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Through the Cracks	By : Aspergirl Category: +S through Z > South Park Views: 7479 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or its characters. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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"Oh no." Already, Stan and Kyle didn't want to hear it.
Cartman stood, brushing the dust off his pants, having regained enough composure to speak. "I just heard Butters talking about his uncle sucking his ass!"
The other three boys were skeptical. "No, you didn't," Stan declared.
"Guys, I'm seriously! Butters' parents came in and grounded him because he's an uncle fucker!" Cartman broke into jubilant song: "Shut your fucking face, uncle fuckah! You're a cock-sucking, ass-licking uncle fuckah! Come on, Kinny, sing it with me! You know you want to."
Kenny gyrated and sang: (You're with your uncle gettin' sounded. That's the reason you got grounded!)
Cartman laughed, then stopped abruptly. "Wait, what does 'sounded' mean?" Now it was Kenny's turn to laugh uncontrollably, while his friends exchanged confused stares. Cartman resumed, “I know what I’m talking about. I met his uncle when I pretended to be AWESOM-O. Total creeper.” Giving it some more thought, Cartman added, “I should have seen it before. Butters would like taking it up the pooper.” Kenny considered what he knew of Butters and seemed to advert to the evidence. Kyle and Stan looked troubled, not wanting to think of their friend that way.
"Look," Stan said severely, "Butters gets grounded all the time. There's no way it's because he was fucking his uncle."
"Wanna bet?" Cartman put his hands on his hips and added in a sassy tone, "If Butters tells us he fucked his uncle, Kahl has to fuck his uncle."
"Fine!" Kyle shot back.
"Dude," warned Stan, putting a hand on Kyle's shoulder. But the redhead was on fire.
"But if you're wrong, you've gotta... dress in drag and fuck your uncle!" Kyle was ready to shut Cartman up one way or another.
"Dude!" Stan had heard enough, but Kenny found the raised stakes intriguing.
Much to Kyle's chagrin, so did Cartman. "Ooh, Kahl. Is that what you fantasize about at night while you're counting your money?" Cartman caressed himself all over, giving his ass a little spank.
Stan covered his ears. "Whatever! Just... if we just ask Butters, can we stop talking about this?"
"Yes. And after Kahl fucks his uncle."
Kyle growled and seethed, following the others to Butters' house, tucking the basketball under his arm. I wish I could smash fat boy's head in with this thing.
Up in his room, Butters sat hanging his head. His father towered over him; the angry lecture that began in the principal’s office was finally drawing to a close. “As we speak, your mother is on the phone with your Uncle Bud, inviting him for a visit so you can apologize to him personally.”
“Yes, sir.” Butters still couldn’t look at his father. I don’t know how he puts up with me and all my nonsense.
“That’s that. Now turn over.” It was like asking Butters to go brush his teeth. Butters complied, pulling down his pants and draping his body over his father’s lap. THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! Mr. Stotch stood up, allowing Butters to clothe himself again. “Can you tell me why I spanked you, son?”
Butters gave his father a sidelong glance, then quickly looked away again. “Be-because you love me.”
“That’s right. Now go wash up for dinner.”
All alone, Butters intended to obey his father, until he heard something heavy hit the window. A basketball. Butters looked out the window and saw his friends. Kenny and Cartman looked very pleased to see him, while Stan and Kyle looked pensive. (Hey, Butters!) called Kenny, through his parka.
“Oh, uh, hey fellas,” said Butters. “I can’t come out and play on accounta I’m grounded.”
“We know,” Stan answered. “But—”
“Butt!” Cartman quickly covered his face with his hands. His anticipation was so great that any mention of nether regions, real or imagined, was more than he could handle.
Kyle shoved Cartman, who whined and rubbed his arm. “Could you tell us why you got grounded?” Kyle finished.
Stan, still unmoved, added, “It’s sort of important, I guess.”
Looking around, as if to make sure there were no younger children present to hear the tale, Butters confessed, “I was bein’ real bad, see. I was makin’ up bad lies about my uncle Bud. I shouldnta done that, ‘cuz my uncle Bud loves me a whole lot.”
Kyle shoved Cartman again. “Aha! I knew it!”
“Quit it, Kahl!” Cartman shoved Kyle back before turning his attention to Butters. “Butters, you fucktard! At school you said your uncle was licking your asshole!”
Innocently, Butters answered, “I said some naughty words, but my parents straightened me right out. I won’t say my uncle did things he didn’t do.”
Stan, Kyle, and Kenny looked at Cartman, waiting for an explanation. “I’m not making this up!” Cartman yelled, stomping his foot peevishly. “You guys were there when he said it! It’s not my fault you guys never listen to him!”
Kenny picked up singing again: (Better go get ready, uncle fuckah! Put on your hottest teddy, uncle fuckah!) He nudged Cartman and winked.
Cartman was enraged. “This isn’t over, dickhole. You’re gonna be sorry!” he screamed up at a startled Butters, who shut the window and disappeared. Cartman then turned his attention to Kyle, and his shouts turned into an eerie hiss, which was much more terrifying. “And you are gonna fuck your uncle. I’ll make damn sure of that.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. How does he never see what a hypocrite he is? He makes it too easy. “Is that what you fantasize about while you’re stuffing your fat face?”
Cartman turned pale. “I…” He swallowed hard. Searching for support, he saw only Stan’s disapproval and Kenny humming endless refrains of “Uncle Fuckah” to himself, before looking back to Kyle’s cool smirk. Cartman blurted, “I’m not fat!” and scampered away.
Now it was Kyle’s turn to enjoy a satisfied, but short-lived chuckle. “Gross, man. What if Cartman really does fantasize about that?”
(Wouldn’t surprise me. I think he’s secretly into some kinky shit.) Kenny pictured Ms. Cartman’s appearance in Crack Whore Magazine. (Maybe it runs in the family.)
“I gotta get home for dinner,” said Kyle. “Later, guys.”
“Me too. See ya, Kenny.” The boys exchanged waves.
Before going home to see if there were still some Hot Pockets or at least some bottles of booze in the fridge, Kenny turned and looked up at Butters’ window. The light was out, and Butters was nowhere to be seen. Kenny had thought the story was another one of Cartman’s sick jokes, but alone in the silence, Kenny wasn’t so sure. Where does Cartman get this stuff? Butters wouldn’t say something like that. Would he? Kenny’s stomach was beginning to speak to him. (I guess I’ll go home and see if there is anything for dinner.) He walked home, but looked over his shoulder every few moments, as if he thought he might see Butters come back to the window.
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Through the Cracks