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“What the shit is this, Craig?”
“Red Racer.”
“I know that, stupid.”
“Then why ask a stupid question?”
Kenny stops for a moment to look at his companion, who is currently staring at the television screen.
“This is nothin’ like NASCAR,” He moans, the sound muffled by his parka.
“Nope.”
“Tweek said it was,”
“Tweek’s full of shit. Just… shut up and watch okay? You’ll like it.”
Craig pauses the television at the title credits, while Kenny stretches himself out horizontally on the sofa.
“Okay so. I should explain this a bit. Tweek isn’t wrong, it is kind of like NASCAR.”
“It’s a fuckin’ cartoon, Craig.”
“Well, yeah.
Craig thumbs the play button the remote, debating whether to unpause the show. On the screen displayed the Red Racer’s signature rocket, followed by flames and missiles. Craig isn’t passionate about much, but he’ll be damned if he lets someone tell him his favourite show is terrible. He remembers how secretly nervous he was to show his boyfriend, though this was something he was sure would happen eventually – nobody rushes straight home from school for no reason. He furrows his brows in thought.
“Yo, so are we gonna watch this or what?” Kenny breaks his train of thought.
“Yeah yeah. One second.” Craig fiddles with the strings of his hat, before ultimately tossing it to the floor.
“Right,” Craig starts. “Imagine something like NASCAR in space, except you add missiles, aliens and a mystery subplot, because the guy is never unmasked. He reminds me of you because nobody knows what you look like without your stupid jacket.”
Kenny pops down his hood for a split second and gives a toothy grin. Craig flips the bird.
“There’s this rivalry too,” He continues. “On a scale from one to ten, it’s about a Kyle and Cartman.”
Kenny usually chuckles, but this makes him belly-laugh.
“Seriously dude, just watch it. It’s less ‘Wacky Races’ than it sounds.”
Craig goes to pick up the remote again, when the doorbell rings seven consecutive times.
“Coming, Tweek,” Craig yells.
When Craig opens the door, Tweek forgoes the usual greeting of a hug and a peck on the cheek. He launches himself onto the sofa, nearly crushing Kenny’s outstretched legs in the process.
“Jesuschristman, I thought you were gonna startwithoutme!”
“Hello to you too, Sweetheart.”
“Sorry, Craig.”
Tweek holds a hand outstretched for his boyfriend to hold and beckons Craig to the couch. Kenny takes his legs off the seat to make room for a third. It’s not the biggest seat in the world and if they were much older, they probably would have a hard time fitting in the space. Craig and Tweek don’t really mind the forced closeness – they’d be sat this close together anyway if it was just the pair of them – and Kenny is just grateful to be able to watch TV in a quiet, normal household, on a seat that’s not falling apart and with company that won’t scream at him to turn over the channel.
“Whatare you waiting for, Craig? Putiton!”
With little deliberation, he hits the play button. The three of them watch in silence; the television commanding all attention from the boys. Craig’s eyes are fixed on the screen – he doesn’t want to look away but occasionally throws a glance Kenny’s way, where he sees him leaning forward in anticipation. His hand is in hair during the tense moments when the Red Racer crashes after being sabotaged. Kenny’s hood is down and Craig is sure he hasn’t noticed. Craig joins him in leaning forward, as if their collective willing will give the hero the best outcome. His hand is tightly laced with Tweek’s, gripping tighter with every crash and blast.
The show leaves on a ridiculous cliffhanger, as it does every day.
“What!? They can’t leave it there!”
“They do this all the time. See why I’m so hooked?”
“Christ, that was so fuckin’ awesome. Oh man, those crashes –and the blue racer! What the – oh my god, that was just so good.”
Kenny is pacing the floor to the point he could probably wear the carpet out. He’s got so much energy from watching, he feels like he can’t sit still. He still hasn’t noticed his hood is down and he managed to make his hair look wilder than Tweek’s, which was a real achievement.
“Knew you’d likeitman!”
“Just, wow. Damn. I thought they were going to kill him off! But that comeback, Jesus wow.”
“Same again tomorrow, Kenny?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Craig smiles, relaxes in the knowledge his guest had a good time. It’s about time someone else was as much of a fan of the show as he was.