Deception is Gay

In South Park, Colorado, there were certain guarantees to the month of May. For one thing, May was the month that the underpants gnomes saw their greatest profit. Being that the gnomes generally believed in giving back to the community, they always saw to it that each resident of South Park woke up with a set of underpants on the pillow next to them on May 13th.

Unfortunately, the underwear was not always a match for the individual, which would probably explain why Officer Barbrady was currently sporting a bright pink thong—the top of which was clearly visible when he bent over—while Big Gay Al sat sulking at a picnic table in a corner.

The setting was the annual South Park community picnic—another, slightly more pleasant, fixture of the month. In the picnic area, just to the side of Big Gay Al, the City Wok guy was manning a refreshment table, and steadfastly avoiding eye contact with Sheila Brofloski, who was putting up signs for her missing cat.

Ranger McFriendly, from his seat across the way, would have protested at Mrs. Brofloski's brazen violation of park policy in stapling signs to the trees, if he were not too busy protesting Mrs. Garrison's advances.

A touch football game was going several yards over, which was what was currently holding Kyle Broflovski's attention. He was one of the few actually paying attention to the game, only kept company by the girlfriends of the players and Jimbo's increasingly drunk crowd—the latter were taking bets that they were too drunk to keep up with, while the former were motivated by a desire to appear too busy to talk to Wendy Testaburger, who was trying to pass out a petition for animal rights, or something equally gay. He had thus-far managed to avoid catching her eye, so he remained blissfully ignorant of the actually subject matter.

Kyle kept his green eyes focused on the game, never looking away from a certain dark-haired player on the blue team. He cheered as his best friend scored the touchdown to win the game, not at all concerned that, in doing so, Stan had accidentally broken Craig's middle finger.

That was what he got for sticking it out when it wasn't wanted.

Unfortunately, in cheering, he managed to attract the attention of the one person he had just been rejoicing in avoiding.

With no small measure of apprehension, Kyle watched Wendy's blue eyes first widen at the sudden appearance of fresh meat for her cause, and then narrow in calculatingly.

Honestly, she looked like a viper ready to strike.

Kyle shifted in his seat under a shade tree, torn between running for cover and staying to see the post-game antics of the players—particularly Stan. As Token Black and a few younger kids he didn't know lifted a pitcher of Gator-Aid over Stan's head from behind, causing his already sweat dampened shirt to cling wetly to his every muscle, Kyle decided against moving.

Screw Wendy.

In fact, he had just about gathered the nerve to say those exact words to the girl should she decide to approach him—and really, was there any question of it?—when he realized she was already standing over him, peering down ominously through her kohl colored lashes as her decidedly curvy body blocked the warm glow of daylight.

He didn't mind the loss of the sun, but he really wished he could still see Stan.

However, telling her off was quite frankly out of the question. Courage was fleeting in the face of Wendy in one of her moods, as she so clearly was in. She terrified him more than the thought of Cartman on a hot fudge bender—and where was Cartman, anyway? He was usually around to mock Wendy's environmentalist endeavors. It was the only time he appreciated the fatass's presence. He attempted to avoid eye-contact, but naturally Wendy would not allow that. She squatted to his level, shoving her clipboard in his face insistently.

"Kyle," she cried impassionedly. "The rest of this town may be totally environmentally short-sighted, but I know that you can see the big picture!"

He blinked.

Wendy looked at him and sighed, clearly not impressed by his attitude. "Kyle Broflovski, do you know what you're sitting on right now?"

That managed to get his attention. He shot up like a streak of lightning, looking down with panic at what he assumed must be a pile of cow manure. Instead, he saw…

"Grass?"

Wendy beamed and rose as well, apparently surprised by his environmental awareness. "That's right! Grass. And do you know what it's going to be next year?"

It was all he could do to refrain from saying 'taller grass', but luckily she continued before he had a chance to say what he was sure would be as good as a death warrant.

"Pavement!" she shouted, swishing the clipboard about as emphasis and nearly decapitating him in the process. "The city is trying to put a road through the park! I need people to sign this petition to keep that from happening. Like… you!" Again, the clipboard came dangerously close to his face.

"I don't understand," Kyle said, his forehead creasing. "How can they pave city land? Isn't that illegal?" He could have smacked himself for giving her an opening, but luckily Stan came up behind her before she could go too far in explaining. His former position as her grade school boy toy leant him the ability to grab the clipboard from her frantically flailing arms without being promptly pushed in the dirt, as Kyle certainly would have been.

"Wendy, what the hell is this?" Stan asked as he glanced at the summary page beneath the few signatures Wendy had managed to attain. "They only want to pave a small walkway from the entrance to the pavilion. What's the big deal?"

Wendy blustered, rendered all but comatose by the force of her indignation. "The 'big deal'? You think they're going to stop there? Oh no! Haven't you ever heard of a slippery slope? Once this is a precedent, they won't hesitate until all of this beautiful grass gives way to cement and asphalt!" She turned about to share her lecture with the rest of the picnic party, who all, as her voice raised, had turned to stare at the strange individual swinging her clipboard about and shouting.

Kyle and Stan used the opportunity to creep off. Without speaking, they made for a bench way out of sight of the angry environmentalist. As they took their seats, Kyle sighed. "Thank God you were there, man. That chick scares the hell out of me."

Stan just laughed. "Come on, Kyle. She's not that bad."

Kyle raised his eyebrows. "Not that bad? She's insane!"

Stan shook his head, smiling. "She just cares about stuff, dude. Way, way too much. It's admirable in a totally intimidating and disturbing way." At Kyle's look, he smirked at his very 'special' friend. "You know what? I think there's something else behind this whole dislike of Wendy."

"Such as?"

"Well…" he took Kyle's hand, still shy despite the fact that their relationship had took this much different turn more than a month ago. "You might be jealous."

Kyle blushed, the color reaching his bright red roots. "Yeah right."

"What? You don't think this whole grass thing isn't about getting my attention?" Stan teased lightly, absently stroking his friend's knuckles.

"You're joking of course. Wendy has about as much interest in men as… well, as I did until a few months ago."

Stan laughed, but nodded in agreement. "You're right. It's too bad, because I happen to have a certain person I'd love to pawn off on her."

Kyle winced. "Oh, no. You know, it's one thing to be…well, gay. But, matchmaking? That's just so…well…gay."

Stan smirked. "Maybe so, but this isn't matchmaking for its own sake. It's for the sake of the world."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that by putting two of the most psychotic people in the universe against together, we'll be saving two other individuals from lives of pain and degradation."

A light was beginning to dawn, and Kyle didn't like what it was indicating.

"You can't be saying…"

"That's right. Wendy and Cartman."

"Aww, sick, dude! I'm not helping to bring about that train wreck!"

"You realize of course that it would be the easiest and most effective means of ensuring Cartman's misery?"

When put that way, it was rather tempting.

"So, we'd be, like, hurting them, right? Not matchmaking?"

Stan grinned his assent, clearly aware that he'd just won the battle.

Kyle could only nod his support as he saw his best friend's eyes slowly coming towards his own. After that point, any thoughts of Wendy and Cartman were highly undesirable.

Notes:

Okay, I know that I should be working on Never Trust Your Friends. Here's the deal: Exams were more brutal than usual, and immediately afterwards I started a new job. I actually had no idea about it until the Saturday beforehand, so, obviously, I have been busier than I thought. I sat down to start the next chapter of NTYF, and this came out. Better than nothing, I suppose. It will only be a few completely angstless chapters, and hopefully it will get me back in the mood to work on the other fic. However, I assure you all, I have NOT stopped writing on it, so look for updates on it sometime soon.

If anyone can guess which famous play that this story will be based loosely upon, brownie points to you! I won't tell until later, as it would kill the suspence.

Reviews are better than cheesy poofs!