A/N: I checked this like twenty times. But, yeah, it doesn't have any language in it whatsoever. I didn't realize it until I read over it. Anyways, enjoy, and please leave a review. I would very much appreciate it...

Jews Can't Play Basketball. Cartman's harsh words bit down on Kyle's pointed, elf-like ears; Kyle had thought he was good at basketball, but being the tiny little weakling he was, he pretty much stunk at every sport he tried. But, fail and fail again, Broflovski never gave up trying.

Rain or shine, he never passed up a chance to play basketball with Stan. Well, dude, practice makes perfect. You aren't gonna get any better unless you try, Stan had told him just a few weeks earlier.

Yet...something was missing. Kyle practiced every single day after school, but yet he still came up short.

Jews Can't Play Basketball.

Kyle was beginning to consider getting a new sports mentor. But, if not Stan... then who? Stan was pretty much his only athletic friend. Everyone else was lazily perched on their couch, face full of Cheesy Poofs, watching Terrance and Phillip...

"Go Kyle!"

Stan's motivational cries sunk hopelessly into a pit of pure cacophony as Kyle missed yet another shot.

"I can't do it, Stan..." Kyle admitted, his pink face engulfed in a salty ocean of sweat.

Stan began to massage his friend's bony shoulders in an effort to cheer him up.

"Come on, Kyle...you can do this. I believe in you.

Besides, you only need one more point..."

Kyle's head became limp as he buried it shamefully into his pale, milky knees.

"Yeah, but nobody else does..." Kyle mumbled, newly-formed tears streaming down his face and fusing with his glistening sweat.

"Don't listen to what anybody else says, Ky. You're my best friend, and if I didn't think you could do this, I would've told you a long time ago."

Kyle looked up at his raven-haired companion with a crooked pink smile upon his lips.

One of Stan's long, fleshy fingers met Kyle's sweat-soaked face and wiped away several forlorn tears that had somehow fell astray.

Kyle looked into Stan's sapphire blue spheres with a newfound confidence that was absolutely indestructible.

"Let's do this."

With that fresh sense of winner pumping through his veins, Kyle was determined to win-even if this was just a practice game.

He shot across the large indoor court like a gale, pushing his way through several taller opponents as he headed for the hoop. The spherical orange and white symbol that had danced so daintily by his side was now fully in the hands of Kyle Broflovski, who immediately shot up like a weed and showed off an impressive Slam Dunk.

The ball lightly scraped against the lacy white fabric as it descended, causing a virtually egotistical grin to form on Kyle's usually pouty lips.

"You did it, Kyle!" Stan cried, pulling his clammy, red-faced best friend awkwardly into his chest.

Cartman approached them with a protruberant frown that marred his typically haughty demeanor.

"Well, Cartman, I won the bet. Where's my twenty dollars?"

"I'm gettin' it ai'eighty!"

Cartman reluctantly reached into his back pocket and took out the two folded green pieces of paper he had hoped to hold tauntingly over Kyle's head after he won the bet.

Sickened to the point of nausea, he handed the money to Kyle, who eagerly snatched it up.

The devilish grin Kyle was wearing reminded him so much of himself. Words could not express how much he wanted to rip it right off Kyle's lips and sew it onto his face.

Unfortunately for him, Kyle was going home a winner, and there was nothing Cartman could do to change that.

Stan was right, Kyle thought to himself, Jews can play basketball.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this short little crappy one-shot. It took me nearly three hours to write it. *Sigh*

Anyway, please leave a review. You know I love feedback.