This story will contain Kyman, Stenny, Dip and a little one-sided Buttman. A mystery-suspense story that will keep you guessing until the end. I'll update it as often as I can since I'm doing other stories too. The plot may start small but give it some time and I promise it'll prove to be a good read. Please enjoy!

For as long as I can remember, I've hated my arch-nemesis Eric Cartman since we were toddlers. Our hatred was well-known in our quiet town of South Park. He would insult me with his Anti-Semitic slander and in return I would rip on him for his weight. We were opposites in every way that it's easy to see why there was so much hostility between us. Although sometimes I find myself wondering… Just how well do you really know your enemy?

It was a typical Tuesday. I was at my locker and opened it to get out my books for English class. While busy at the moment, I turned around in time to see Bebe Stevens coming down the hall with her usual gang of giggling girlfriends. However she excused herself and approached me with one with a dazzling smile and an invitation in hand.

"Hi Kyle," she greeted me sweetly. "It's no secret that Bebe used to have a crush on me. Wasn't she over me yet? Then again, I did hear she was trying to catch the eye of the popular track star, Max Carleton. "One of my girlfriends is having a birthday party over at the Sizzler and I'm being helpful by inviting cute boys. Won't you come?"

When I accepted the invitation, I noticed that many girls were flashing me flirtatious looks, followed by their wild laughter. Too bad those girls would be in for a disappointment because I felt that I was secretly gay. But I couldn't blame them for their interest mainly because I was so adorable-looking.

I wore my regular orange jacket; forest-green colored jeans and a bright green ushanka that hid my embarrassing fiery-red jewfro. Bebe gave me a twirling good-bye with her fingers, and then a minute later I saw my best friend Stan Marsh heading towards me. One look at him and I knew he'd gone another night without any sleep. There were dark shadows in his midnight-blue eyes and his behavior seemed as melancholy as ever.

Only a week ago, his long-time girlfriend Wendy Testaburger broken up with him for good. She'd been such a nagging bitch, complaining about how Stan didn't seem to be into their relationship anymore, and how she felt like she was falling into the background of his life. So Wendy went and left. To add insult onto injury, she ended up hooking up with the fabulously popular Bridon Gueermo. Since then, Stan's despondency seemed endless. I was already growing concerned for him that finally I felt that I had to say something.

"Stan, you've really have got to stop doing this to yourself," I said gently. "It's no good for you to sit around and brood forever. Look, I've got an invitation to a party at the Sizzler. Why don't you come along?"

While watching Stan open his locker, I couldn't help noticing that the pictures of him and Wendy together were totally wiped clean from the side. Stan took a minute to gather his things first before turning to face me with his expression depressed. "I don't know, dude. I think I just might go home and catch reruns of the Philip & Terence show," Stan replied lethargically.

"But that's all you've been doing these past few days! I understand that break-ups are never easy, and you're still hurting from it. You need to get out, Stan. So why not come to the party with us?" I urged.

"Why go to that party when all I'm going to do is see Wendy with that douchebag?" Stan's scowl clearly said that he was done discussing the issue. "I don't think I can handle it."

At that exact moment, our other good friend Kenny McCormick came to join us and he too was carrying an invitation for the Sizzler. "Woohoo! Party-time tonight! So um…you guys coming?" He looks hopefully over at Stan.

Before we could stop him, Stan already lost his temper and was throwing us both angry looks while slamming his locker door shut. "You guys just don't get it, do you? I can't go because I'll see them together! I won't face that humiliation! So just leave it alone!"

With that, my best friend walked off in a huff. Kenny hurried after him and I would have followed too but a highly obnoxious voice from behind stopped me. "Let him go, Kahl. If Stan insists on being a whiny lil' pussy, then who are we to tell him what to do?"

Feeling vexation at once, I turned around to glare over at the most intolerant fat prick in the world. In return, he had a devious smirk reserved just for me as always. Eric Cartman was the most vile, despicable human-being in South Park who had a horrendous reputation for performing the most wicked acts ever known; Tried to start World War III, chopped a guy's parents into chili, intentionally gave me aids, tried to have a show taken off the air, and as for the rest…well… I could go on forever.

"Shut the hell up, fatass. Stan's going through a tough time right now," then I added with an irritable frown. "I wouldn't expect "you" to understand that."

I had hoped to slip away and find out where Shan had gotten to, but Cartman wasn't going to let me off the hook that easily. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he blocked my path by leaning leisurely against the locker. Eric Cartman looked pretty much the same, wearing his light-blue hat, along with his red jacket along with his earthly-brown jeans. Needless to say, his devilish nature matched that of his dark charisma. He was still the fattest kid in the fourth grade, and I lived everyday to remind him of that.

"Get out of my way, Cartman. I gotta go see if Stan is okay."

"Stan is fine," Cartman said dismissively. "That bitch Wendy dumps him more times than I crap on the toilet. So are you coming to the party tonight?"

"No I'm not," I replied impatiently.

My mind was on other stuff. But just as I started to walk away, I felt Cartman lunge out and grabbed my arm and held me in an iron grip. I spun around to say something angry but I caught the sinister glint in his eyes. I wasn't afraid of him; he was merely trying to intimidate me.

"Let go of me, fatass," I growled at him.

"Not until you answer my question, Jew-rat. Are you going to the party at the Sizzler tonight?" Cartman yanked me closer to him.

"Dammit! I've already said I couldn't! Now get off!" Pulling my arm free, I straighten my jacket and started to walk off in disgust. Maybe now I quickly talk to Stan before the bell rung for class. I hadn't gotten very far when I suddenly heard Cartman's jeering voice calling after me.

"Well then… I guess this once again proves my point about Jews…," I froze on the spot when I heard that insinuating tone of prejudice.

Looking back, I saw Cartman smiling mischievously as if he were challenging me. There was absolutely no way I was going to take this bullshit lying down. And Cartman would do well to remember that. Now I march myself back over there until I stood nose-to-nose with the fat Nazi where my emerald-green eyes gleam hatefully.

"You want to run that by me again, asshole?" I snapped.

Cartman wasted no time on telling me what was probably just another one of his warped beliefs. "It's just that I've noticed you don't go to too many parties. I can't help but wonder if this is yet another Jewish stereotype?" He cocks an eyebrow to await a response from me.

"I don't go to enough parties. So what? I really don't see what the big deal is?" I shrug my shoulders. Hard to believe but it's pretty normal for us to be exchanging insults like this. I've hated Cartman for so long that I've never known any other feeling. Besides, Jews are suppose to hate Nazis, just like how dogs are suppose to hate cats, right? No point on getting all riled up like this. It's only Cartman poking a stick at my religion like always. And it didn't stop there.

"You're either babysitting that brother of yours or hoarding Jew gold in your hidden cave or just being a no good back-stabbing Jesus-traitor," Cartman sneers unpleasantly.

"I'm sorry. Is there a point to all this? Cause if not, you can go fuck yourself anyway," I murmured.

Why was I standing here listening to all this crap when I had better things to do? Not to mention Cartman totally got off on this, insulting me whenever he got the chance. The guy was pure evil and I'll never understand why I continue to associate with him. Cartman's smile widens because he was clearly enjoying himself.

"Do you want to know what your problem is?" Then he came out and said it. "You're too much of a "stiff."

I stared at him and for once I was at a total loss for words. A stiff? Is that what he honestly thought? I've never heard that one before. A stiff. What's more, I can't believe how personal I was taking it. But when it comes to pissing me off, Cartman knew exactly which button to press.

"Screw off, Cartman. I don't have time for this. And you know I'm not a stiff." I turned away from him and walked off.

"See you at the Sizzler?" Cartman calls after me.

"Whatever fatass!"

Meanwhile after having his emotional outburst, Stan had run all the way to the boys' bathroom. Standing at the sink with the faucet running, he stood splashing some cold water on his face. Looking at himself in the mirror, he knew he looked like hell. Perhaps Kyle was right. Maybe it was high time to stop doing this to himself and start moving on. Ever since the break-up, all he done was fall apart. Just then he heard the bathroom door open and close. He turned around to see Kenny standing there, gazing sympathetically over at him.

"I thought I'd find you hiding in here. Are you okay?" Kenny asked him.

Stan looked away in order to quickly wipe away the tears in his eyes, but Kenny already saw that he'd been crying. Stan looked around for a paper towel, and then looked up to see Kenny kindly holding one out for him. Gratefully taking it, Stan dried his eyes while talking over his shoulder.

"Sorry about earlier. I'm fine now." Stan wished he could sound more convincing.

He knew Kenny wouldn't judge him. But after all the heartache and pain he went through, Stan wondered if he would ever feel the same again. After watching him for a bit, Kenny placed a comforting hand on Stan's shoulder and gave it a little comforting squeeze.

"Hey man, aren't you tired of feeling sorry for yourself? Don't you want to hang out with Kyle, Cartman and me like old times?" Kenny wanted to know.

Stan nodded his head and felt calmer now that he'd finally stop crying. Crumbling up the paper towel and tossing it into a nearby trash-bin, Stan eventually came to regret allowing his grief to overwhelm him like that. He did miss his best friends after spending the last couple of days locking himself away in his room and walloping in his own misery. Stan offered Kenny a tiny smile.

"Yeah, you're right. I miss you guys," Stan confessed.

With a big grin, Kenny held up the invitation and placed it in Stan's hand. "Great! So you're coming with us! Have your mom drive us to the Sizzler tonight at 7:00P.M."

Stan finally started to cheer up at the thought of having fun with his friends again. He needed to get out of the house. However Stan still felt a little uncertain that he admitted as much to Kenny. "I'm still afraid. I hate it when people keep feeling sorry for me." Then he hung his head and became gloomy. "Most of all, I don't want to be alone."

But Kenny linked an arm around Stan and pulled him in for a side hug. "Everything's going to be alright. You'll be fine," Kenny reassured him. Then he added in a soft tone. "If you ever do get lonely, come find me. I'll keep you company."

Stan took the moment to allow these words to sink in. It was one of the many things he appreciated about having Kenny as a friend. He may be the poorest boy in the 4th grade, but he made up for it by having a heart of gold. Then the bell rung for class, and Stan followed Kenny out of the boys' bathroom. Along the way, Stan was struck with a sudden thought. Before entering the classroom, he pulled Kenny aside and had a question.

"Kenny, don't you ever feel like you're being judged? Like nobody understands you and you feel lonely because of it? Ever had that feeling?" Stan asked.

It was a rather personal question. Kenny wondered how best to answer it. The truth was he knew perfectly well on what it was like to be lonely. Brought up in poverty, he has led a rough life ever since. On top of that, there was the deep dark secret that was unknown to everyone… his inability to die. It made him feel different and isolated. But how could Kenny ever make anyone understand that? Especially Stan Marsh, the boy he admired from afar for a long time? So there was only one thing he could say.

"Y-Yeah… I do understand. It's not easy to deal with but we try to keep going anyway," Kenny said with a smile.

This made Stan feel a lot better that he was back to smiling like his old self again. When he entered the classroom, Kenny was left there with nothing but the sad thoughts in his own mind. "I'm lonelier than you think, Stan," he whispered softly to himself.

What do you think? I should be getting the second chapter up real soon. I promise that the plot will get better so you gotta be persistent when reading it. Please review to let me know how I'm doing so far! But like always, I could do without any flames on it.