Author's Note: Hey guys, just a short one-shot I felt like writing. I'll be able to update my other two stories more often, now. I don't own South Park. Matt Stone and Trey Parker do.

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"…It's a woodland critter Christmas!" Cartman sang as he walked down the South Park street.

It was finally that time of year when children shouted with glee as they opened their presents that were kept stacked under pine trees that dropped needles all over the living room floor. When young love makes it to third base and someone feels remorseful. When the births go down and abortions go up. When people eat too much at family dinners and no amount of Pepto Bismol or antacids can do anything about it. Yes, Christmas had to be the best holiday of the year. Next to Halloween, of course. You just can't beat free candy.

Cartman came to halt as he came upon the last person he wanted to see. He looked into the boy's emerald eyes and sighed.

He's probably going to give me some stupid speech about the meaning of Christmas and how commercialism has taken over everyone's minds and yadda yadda yadda blah blah, he thought.

But the fifteen year old in front of him said nothing. His eyes were red and clouded over. He blinked once, however it didn't take the lifelessness out of his pupils. A tear broke free and before it could travel down his cheek, a hand had swiped it away. He looked up, actually seeing Cartman for the first time, who had been standing there with a smug smile on his face for at least two minutes.

"Why, Kahl, whatever seems to be the matter?" he asked, still grinning stupidly. Any pain the Jewish boy suffered made his day.

Kyle opened his mouth, then closed it slowly. He bit his bottom lip slightly and started to speak.

"Sh-she fo…" He stopped and glanced down at his feet, which were exposed to the snow and wind.

Cartman followed his look and his smile lessoned. Barely.

"Where are your shoes?"

Kyle glared. This is what Cartman had been missing. The flame was back in the redhead's eyes and his words dripped with venom.

"Like you give a rat's ass. Fuck. Off."

"Well, Kahl, are you PMSing? Because my mom has a bunch of chocolates at home. Oh, wait, I'm sorry, we don't have any diabetic Kosher candies. Sucks for you," Cartman sneered.

This was the perfect chance to leave, but for some reason he stayed rooted to the spot, unsure why. Then he realized that Kyle hadn't shot some snotty remark back at him. No, he was laying facedown on the icey ground, his body being racked by short, harsh, sobs. There was no way that Cartman's comment had made his worst enemy react like that…was there?

"Jesus H. Christ, Jew. You're gonna freeze your face off if you keep that up." And for reasons that escaped him, he put his hands under Kyle's armpits and hauled the boy up onto his feet.

Kyle mumbled something under his breath, and Cartman leaned in closer asking him to repeat it.

"I said," he replied slowly, "What do you care?"

Cartman swallowed. "I don't care, dumbass. I just want to know why you're upset. So I can have a reason for my happiness," he explained.

"I thought as long as I was sad, you were happy. Besides, why should I tell you?"

"Because."

"Wow, Eric, you won me over with that answer. I'd be glad to tell you what's bothering me!" Kyle shouted sarcastically.

Cartman's face lit up, but as the seconds passed and no words escaped Kyle's lips he understood that the comment had been sardonic. He flipped the Jew off and spun around, leaving the boy and his sorrows behind him, literally. But three little words stopped him in his tracks.

"She found out."

With his back still facing Kyle, he asked, "What did she find out?"

"My secret," Kyle answered simply. "She dug and dug until I fucking snapped. But she snapped right back." He laughed, even though he couldn't see the humor in the situation.

"What? Did you forget to study for next month's test?" Cartman asked, only half-joking. He figured the woman Kyle was talking about was his mom. And she got pissed when Kyle didn't do things that were above perfect to her standards.

Kyle smiled even though Cartman couldn't see it. "Nope. I wish. Guess again." He was starting to get a little giddy from the cold and the lack of clean air entering his lungs.

"I don't know," he sighed annoyingly. "Your bitch mom found out that you and Stan were having unprotected anal sex behind her back? Is that it?"

Kyle was silent a moment. "Stan's not gay," he muttered.

It took a couple seconds for the words to register in Cartman's mind. 'Stan's not gay.' Not 'We're not gay' or 'I'm not gay'.

"Oh. My. God. My Christmas finally has meaning!"

He turned around only to be met by a pair of very sad eyes. And he instantly felt bad for his previous statement. Why? He couldn't answer that, no matter how much he wanted to.

"How long?" he asked, silently yelling at himself for not leaving when he had the chance.

"Not long. A couple weeks, maybe. I thought telling her right away would be a good thing. It would be a good idea to get it over with…"
"Did she start a war or something?"

Kyle laughed and continued laughing until he saw Cartman's solemn and confused face. But even then he was giggling.

"It's not that funny," Cartman remarked.

"She didn't start a war. She…she," Kyle was cracking up, again, "She fucking disowned me! Ha! My own mother kicked me out! Said I…I wasn't her son! That I'm a worthless piece of shit that should just kill myself! Isn't that great!?"

Cartman frowned, but said nothing.

"And you know the best part?" he continued. "The best part is that she's right! She's fucking right! I'm going to kill myself."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you won't try to stop me."

And they both knew he was right. Cartman wouldn't stop his foe from committing suicide. That was Stan's job.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Kyle replied sadly. "Bye."

Cartman looked up from the ground only to see Kyle walking away towards the pond. He knew what would happen. He didn't know who would find the body first, but did it really matter? He knew he could stop this. It wouldn't take much. But instead he stayed planted, watching as the figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

Then, Eric Theodore Cartman went home.