Disclaimer: Hi, I'm Christopher Paolini, author of "Eragon". I did not steal ideas from "South Park", "Star Wars", or "Anchorman". They were just my inspirations. (No, I'm not really Christopher Paolini. I don't own him either.)

Chapter 13: Wrap Up

The sky was the color of dusk-purple construction paper as Uncle Jimbo's truck bounced violently along, and sometimes off, the dirt road. He and his war buddy Ned were taking Stan and his three friends home from a hunting trip.

"Wow Christophe, when those mutant turkeys ambushed us in that ditch, I though we were done for!" Kenny said.

"Yah, so much for the French being surrenderin' p-ssies. You got quite a trigger-finger there, kid!" Uncle Jimbo complimented Christophe as the jeep crushed over a large bump. "Oh crap." Jimbo shouted out his window, "Sorry Officer Barbrady!"

Christophe thanked Kenny for about the 80th time that hour, for making him talk to his mom.

"I know you said that like 80 times already." Kenny rolled up his window. "So, did she say anything…you know…about who your dad was?"

"Yes, unfortunately. Apparently my father is a hermaphadite, and I have a twin brother somewhere in South Park. Zat's why I've been smashing my head against trees and stuff all day. I've been trying to give myself amnesia, so I can forget she ever said zat!"

Kenny's face froze, his dirty-blond hair still whipping in the wind. Stan and Kyle stopped making out, exchanged nervous glances, and slowly sat up.

"Um, Mole," Kyle asked. "Did, did she say anything else about your brother?"

"Just zat he's my fraternal twin and lives with my hermaphadite father…mother….whatever. Why do you ask?"

The other three boys looked at each other, the way your parents did when they were about to tell you where babies really come from. After a minute of awkward silence, Uncle Jimbo realized a private conversation was in order. He turned on some loud country music and asked Ned if he remembered a hunting trip on a volcano.

"You guys, it might just be a coincidence," Stan pushes down on the air with his hands. "I mean I'm sure there's lots of hermaphadites… in this tiny mountain town,"

"Hoh no," Kenny squinted and rubbed his forehead.

"Who is it?" Christophe demanded.

"You wanna know that bad?" Kyle raised his eyebrows.

"Well I didn't care before, but now zat you're making suck a big deal out of it, yes!" Christophe insisted. "I don't care if I'm related to Dick Chaney, just tell me, okay?"

The other boys agreed nonverbally, and Stan sighed. "Hey Uncle Jimbo, can we make a little detour? We need to stop somewhere,"

"Sure Stanley."

Thunder and lightning clapped over the dark mansion on the hill. The four boys finally finished the climb to the balcony. Stan pounded the gold knocker. South Park's mad scientist, Mephisto, answered.

"Hello. Have you boys come to see the seven-assed wallaby?"

"No, no." Stan said quickly. "We, we have a question…"

"Thank you for driving us, Shelly."

It was 10:30 in the morning, the next day. Chirstophe was grateful to have been helped by Kenny's brother's girlfriend, who's just received her driver's license—from Office Barbary, unfortunately. Ever since South Park had to resort to him as town driving instructor, pedestrians now screamed not "Old people driving" but "Young people driving!", as they were doing right now.

"No problem, turd." Shelly screeched around a corner traffic light (which was red). Squashed in her dad's old car were herself, her boyfriend, her brother, his boyfriend, her boyfriend's brother, and her boyfriend's brother's boyfriend (Shelly, Kevin, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Christophe, in other words.)

"There he is!" Kyle pointed. "Stop!"

Shelly slammed on the breaks, making the car's back end do a wheely. "Sorry."

"Zat's okay." Christophe hoped out of the car. "Zis should not take long."

He strolled into the dark alley, and light up another cigarette. He found a nice shadow to look scary and mysterious in, and leaned against the brick wall. He was watching Eric Cartman, picking on some poor cute blond boy.

"You CAN'T leave me Butters!" The fat tyrant hollered. "I won't let you!"

"C-C-Cartmen, we- we can still be friends," Butters begged, "It's just that y-you treat me like crap too much for me to stay with you an-and Powder says I should stop letting you—"

"I don't give a crap what that little hoe Powder says! I'll show you what I think of what Powder says!" Cartman raised a huge fist.

"Hello, Cartman."

Cartman could tell who it was from the accent, before he even turned around to look. "Whadda you want, you British piece of—AY! Butters get back here!"

Butters had darted around the corner.

"Leave him be, Eric." Christophe took out his cigarette and blew some smoke.

Cartman used his fist on Christphe, knocking him to the paved ground. The cigarette bounced off the wall and hissed out of life when it landed in a rain puddle.

Cartman grabbed The Mole by the dark T-shirt. "Why is it whenever ah'm about to have some fun, your Emo little ass has to come in and—"

"Do you zink you hate me now, Cartman?" Christophe smirked and, with effort, kicked Cartman off himself. He rolled into a corner between the wall and a dumpster.

Christophe pushed himself up and drew his shovel from its sheath on his back, pointing it threateningly at Cartman. "At last myself, and Kenny, zat little blond dweeb, and everyone else who you've f—ked over, vill have our revenge! I've been waiting since 9:00 last night to tell you zis, Cartman!"

"Will you just get to the point?" Cartman said, and then called Christophe an ethnic term that's so nasty, I haven't even learned it yet.

"Mephisto never told you vat happened to your father."

"He told me enough!" Cartman spat. "He said ma mamma was a hermaphatite, and she got some other lady pregnant with me!"

"Pregnant wiz US Cartman! I am your brother!"

"WHAT?" Cartman's eyes bugged out and, correspondently, his pupils shrank. He grabbed his face with both hands. "You mean I'm—I'm part British?!"

Christophe began to correct him, "French—" but the great cow was already running across the street screaming.

"Victims," Christophe quoted his favorite movie, watching Cartman vanish around a corner. "Aren't we all."

Kenny, Stan, Kyle, Kevin, and Shelly watched him go, then looked back at Christophe. They were crossing the street, returning from Tweek's Coffe Shop. Christophe jogged back to the sidewalk to meet them.

"So, how'd it go?" Kenny grinned, throwing his arm around his lover.

Christophe grinned too, wickedly. "I've ruined him!"

He received many a high-5.

"So if you and Cartman are brothers, that means you've got the right to torment him whenever you want!" Kyle said. "And he'll be so busy annoying you, he might not bother any of us anymore!"

Shelly slowly sipped a latte.

"Ohmigad, she IS dating that geek!" a voice from behind them squealed.

Stan cringed. "G-d, it's like fingernails on a chalk board!"

Shelly spit her coffee out and spun around. "What did you say?"

Milly Dolcheimer scoffed, putting her talon-nailed hands on her hips. Lindsey Lowtramp and Paris Hoeton, being her loyal clones, copied her.

"I don't think I was talking to you." Milly tossed her fake blond hair.

"You were talking about us." Shelly approached Milly and folded her arms over her "Buffy!" shirt. "So why don't you leave my boyfriend and me alone, for once. You must have something better to do than say crap about people."

Every able person in South Park who wasn't a parent abandoned his/her store, car, construction job, caffeine fit, street baseball game, makeover, and "Terrance and Phillip" show to circle the teens and chant, "Cat-fight! Cat-fight!"

"You wanna have a catfight?" Milly raised her ot-quite-threatening fists. "Bring it on B-tch! I don't care if I break a nail—I'll just buy new ones!"

With the crowd still chanting, Shelly pinched up some of Milly's hair. She twirled her over her head by it, and send her crashing through the window of a run-down ice-cream truck. Kevin ran up to the truck and kicked it for good measure. It creaked, then somersaulted down into a nearby drain ditch. (Kavin hadn't planned on that.)

A city bus stopped long enough for Artsy, Frankie, and Sonya to roll down their windows and wave their sketchbooks and electric guitar. "GO SHELLY!"

"Is this our last cameo here?" Artsy asked.

"Yah." Frankie said.

"Dang."

The art students hollered their goodbyes as the bus pulled away. Shelly gave them a two-fingered salute.

"So," Lindsey Lowtramp gazed down at the wrecked ice-cream truck. "Like, does this mean I'm the new clique leader until Milly comes back from the dead next week?"

"No way, she said I could!" Paris squealed.

While they batted at each other like sissies, Shelly and Kevin met up in the middle of the street. Kevin gave her a Hollywood smooch, at a 60 degree angle.

"Wmm, this is getting interesting," Officer Barbrady commented, from where he was leaning against a parked semi truck (well duh, where else would he comment from, from where he wasn't leaning?).

Shelly's emerald eyes glared up at him, and she clenched her fist.

"I mean," Barbrady stood up, straightened his hat. "Move along people, there's nothing too see here." The rabble simmered down and began moving along.

"So what should ve do now?" Cristophe asked the other three middle schoolers.

"Let's get the ninja weapons and have a fight at Stark's Pond!" Stan said. "They're in my closet. You can use Cartman's, Christophe!"

"We can fight against Shelly and Kevin!" Kenny added. He threw his head over his shoulder to the two, as he and the boys walked down to Stan's house. "You guys get some dumpsters or something to try and kill us with, we'll meet you at the pond!"

"Mmm hmm, whatever." Kevin answered. He and Shelly finally made it to the ground. They rolled up and down the street, making out.

"I said move along people, there is nothing to see here!"

"I'm gonna make sweet love ta ya wo-man…"

THE END

(And if fan fictions had credits, this is the short goofy scene that would play after they were finished.)

Cartman crouched behind his sofa, nervously shoving Cheesy Poofs in his mouth.

"Eric," his mother/father called, "Mamma's going to have some company over. Why don't you go out with your little friends and smoke weed or something…"

Barely hearing her, Cartman reached a hand out weakly and whispered.

"Mephisto, why didn't you tell me?"

A/N: I apologize for the fact that this fic had no plot. My "Star Trek/Family Guy" story will flow much more smoothly. Well, I hope you all enjoyed the slash and such. Thank you so much for reading, all your reviews made me laugh. You stay classy, San Diego!