This is a chaptered version of a fic I’ve already written, It’s Your World, I’m Just Trying To Live In It. I thought the fic ended far too abruptly and wasn’t drawn out enough and had more potential, and I quite liked the idea, so here we are!
This is for Maxi, because she’s absolutely in love with It’s Your World (though God knows why pls Maxi no) and if it weren’t for her undying love for it, I probably wouldn’t have bothered making it better.
As most of you will know, I am absolutely shit at updating chaptered fics, and I’ve been inspired by Shellzbellz to update weekly. So, for now, this is going to be updated every Thursday.
KYLE: Cartman! KYLE: We’re on the same team, for Christ sake! KYLE: Stop punching me! CARTMAN: I can’t help it! I have a thirst for victory that needs to be quenched! KYLE: Then why don’t you try actually attacking the other team, for once? KYLE: Surprisingly, that’s how you win the game. CARTMAN: Don’t tell me how to live my life. CARTMAN: I’m a free spirit, Kyle. You can’t cage this bird. KYLE: I’m going to kick your stupid virtual ass. CARTMAN: Try it, Jew. See what happens. CARTMAN: Kyle, no! Not the flamethrower! KYLE: ‘you can’t tell me how to live my life!’ KYLE: That’s right. KYLE: That’s what happens! KYLE: Boom!
CARTMAN: Jesus Christ. KYLE: I tried to warn you, Cartman. CARTMAN: Remind me not to let you near any flamethrowers in the future. KYLE: I don’t think I will, no. KYLE: Speaking of me telling you what to do, it’s getting kind of late, and I’ve gotta get up early to get down to Denver tomorrow. KYLE: You should head home. CARTMAN: Denver? What’s in Denver that’s so important? KYLE: Uh, Stan? CARTMAN: Oh, right. Gonna go see him again tomorrow? KYLE: Of course I am, dude. KYLE: It’s his birthday. There’s no way I’m gonna miss that. KYLE: Things already suck enough for him.
CARTMAN: Oh, yeah. CARTMAN: But seriously. CARTMAN: You should let me go with you. KYLE: How about no. KYLE: Why would I let you come with me. KYLE: Ever. CARTMAN: Stan’s my friend too, Kyle. CARTMAN: I just want to say happy birthday, that’s all. KYLE: Right. KYLE: As much as Stan would probably *love* that, I’m gonna pass. KYLE: He doesn’t need any of your shit right now, Cartman, okay? KYLE: He could barely handle seeing me last weekend. CARTMAN: I’m not even gonna flip him any shit, I’m just gonna say happy birthday! Among other things. KYLE: Like what. CARTMAN: Like, supportive stuff, right? Stuff like, 'get better soon’ or whatever. CARTMAN: He probably just needs more people to talk to, if anything. CARTMAN: I can’t imagine being cooped up in there alone like a mental patient is doing him any good.
KYLE: I told you to stop calling him that already! CARTMAN: Ow! I didn’t call him anything! CARTMAN: It was a comparison, Kyle! KYLE: Well, then I’m telling you now to stop comparing him to stuff! CARTMAN: I’ll just talk to him for like, two minutes! Seriously!
CARTMAN: It’s not even that much! Then you guys can do whatever you want and I’ll just wait outside or something. KYLE: … KYLE: You’ll just wait outside? KYLE: I mean, you have been way less of a dick lately. CARTMAN: Thanks? KYLE: It wasn’t really a compliment. CARTMAN: I’ll probably just go find the cafeteria or something. Hospital food doesn’t really suck. KYLE: Of course you would love eating hospital food. CARTMAN: I never said I loved it, it just isn’t terrible. CARTMAN: But in the six weeks Stan’s gonna be gone, I’m only asking for like, five minutes. CARTMAN: That’s not a lot. Besides, if I did want to fuck with him, I wouldn’t do it on his birthday. CARTMAN: I’m not *that* heartless, Kyle. KYLE: Well. KYLE: I guess you’re right? KYLE: Well, not *right*, but. KYLE: I’m only gonna let you come along if you swear that if he doesn’t want you there, you’ll go. CARTMAN: Yeah, totally. Consent is key, man. KYLE: And no complaining. CARTMAN: Alright, now that’s a little far fetched. KYLE: Cartman. CARTMAN: Okay, geez. No whining. I got it. KYLE: And I get to punch you as hard as I can in the arm if you do. CARTMAN: Not as hard as you can. Only like, sorta hard. KYLE: Either you accept my terms and conditions or you don’t get to come at all. CARTMAN: Oh my God, fine!