Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Hello, I'm Token Black, and this is Big Brother," Token's voice blares over the loudspeaker as a group of ten familiar twenty-one and twenty-two-year-old college students stands in the classic Big Brother living room below him, "This summer, the ten of you, my friends and peers, will compete for the chance to win a large cash prize that will change your lives all while living under one roof completely cut off from the outside world. Each week we will hold a competition where the winner will become the Head of Household. The Head of Household has a lot of power in this game: they get their own private room and, more importantly, get to nominate two of their fellow housemates for banishment. At the end of the week, the remaining housemates will vote on who gets banished from the household," Token explains, "The person with the most votes will be banished from the house. Once we reach the final two, all of the former banished housemates will return to cast their votes for a winner. The winner will receive $500,000 and come a minuscule amount closer to being as rich as me."

Craig stares up at the ceiling and flips Token the bird as Cartman rolls his eyes. "See, Token? Shit like this is exactly why no one likes you!" Cartman barks.

"I like him," Clyde chimes in next to him.

"Shut up, Clyde!" Cartman exclaims, before glaring up at the loudspeaker, "Besides Token, you already got this all wrong. People like seeing black people on TV, not hearing them!"

"Sure, you may be able to survive Cthulhu, AIDS, and even death itself, but will you be able to survive each other?" Token dramatically voices over, blatantly ignoring Cartman's comment.

"Psh, piece of cake!" Kenny dismisses, nudging Butters in the side.

"Aye! Don't ignore me!" Cartman shouts at the ceiling, stomping his foot like a toddler.

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

Look, I really don't care about this competition in any way whatsoever, but I guess it would be nice to take some of Token's money.

"Gee, thanks Craig," Token's voice sounds over the loudspeaker in the diary room.

Craig smirks and leans back on the sofa, "You're welcome."

…

Wendy Testaburger
Hippie Rights Activist

Personally, I think it's an outrage that there's only two women in the house. But Bebe and I can prove that we're just as tough as the men!

…

Five minutes later, the group of ten is standing in the hallway in front of the pair of bedrooms, doing their best to create order before everyone loses their minds around them.

"Alright," Kyle speaks up, clapping his hands together, "We only have two girls, which means three of us guys will have to sleep in the girls room. If no one has any other suggestions, I think Tweek and Craig should do it."

Behind him, Cartman rolls his eyes, "Oh sure, pick the gay guys! You are so racist, Kahl!" he shouts, pointing his finger in the redhead's face.

Kyle cocks his forehead, puzzled, "Your comment doesn't even make any sense, fatass."

"Ooh, ooh! Pick me! Pick me!" Clyde bounces from his place next to a severely-disinterested Craig, "I'd make a pretty girl!" Everyone stops and stares at him strangely, "What?" he squeaks.

"No, no, no!" Bebe outbursts, "I don't want him anywhere near me!" she claims, pointing at Clyde.

"Why? Afraid you'll fall in love again?" Clyde smirks.

"No," Bebe huffs, crossing her arms over her torso, "I'm afraid I'll get nauseous just having to look at your ugly mug."

Wendy sighs as she takes a step between the feuding pair. She places a reassuring hand on her best friend's shoulder, "Look, it's obvious that Bebe isn't comfortable sharing a room with Clyde, so Stan, why don't you take his place instead?"

"What? No! You can't take Stan!" Kyle quickly chimes.

"Why not?"

"Because-um, we should all be together. We're all a part of Stan's group after all," Kyle sweat drops, swiftly gesturing to himself, Kenny, and Cartman.

"Okay…" Wendy begins, still taken aback by Kyle's objection, "We'll just take Butters then."

"Really?" Butters beams, "Gee, I've never been picked first for anything!"

"Oh come on, don't I get a say in this?" Clyde asks, "If Stan's group gets to stay together then how come my group gets split in two?" he states, gesturing to himself, Tweek, and Craig.

"He does have a point, Bebe," Wendy says to her friend.

"Fine! You can stay," Bebe caves, hoping to save herself from a potential headache as she turns to her ex, "Just stay the hell away from me!" she cries, grabbing her suitcase and storming into the designated girls room.

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

I know it seems like I was overreacting, but you guys have no idea the insanity that I've put up with these last twelve months. I broke up with Clyde a year ago, and he just can't seem to let it go.

…

Ten minutes later, Bebe sighs as she unpacks her belongings in her new bedroom, her aggressive unpacking causing her other roommates to keep their distance from her. Clyde cringes from a few feet behind her as he watches Bebe place a photo of her and David on her dresser. He turns to Tweek and Craig, who are busying pushing their beds together across from Bebe. Clyde pshs, waving off the photo with an eyeroll.

"Couples, am I right?" he remarks. Craig and Tweek stop what they're doing and flash him puzzled looks.

…

A few minutes later, the trio is standing in the hallway outside of the two bedrooms. Clyde is busy conversing with an indifferent Craig while Tweek is frantically eyeing the cameras on the wall next to them, muttering about how the government is out to get them. Tweek paces over to one with a wide-angle lens and starts inspecting it suspiciously.

"Isn't this great, Craig? This is our chance to show the world how awesome our group really is! It's the ultimate showdown: our gang vs. Stan's gang for the win. Craig and those guys will prevail!" he cheers.

Craig sighs, already finding Clyde's enthusiasm exhausting. "Well considering there's only three of us and one of the members is you, I don't find that very likely," he states, catching the attention of a certain black-haired male who has just stepped into the hallway.

"Yeah, Craig is right," Stan agrees, "You guys can't beat us."

"What was that, Marsh?" Craig asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing. I was just agreeing with you," he says with a shrug before walking back into the boys room to rejoin his buddies.

"Hey, speaking of our gang, where's Jimmy?" Clyde wonders.

Craig shrugs, "He was smart enough to get as far away from this train wreck as possible. I guess he still has an ounce of self-respect. Oh, how I envy him," he mutters.

…

Meanwhile, in the boys room, the main four are gathered around their respective beds discussing their foolproof strategies to win the competition.

"I'm telling you guys. This thing is going to be a walk in the park for us – especially me," Kenny says, running his hand seductively through his hair, "All I gotta do is charm my way to the top and that half a million dollars is mine."

"Look, I know we're all really excited about the money," Kyle states, "but I think it's important that we don't get ahead of ourselves here. We're still outnumbered where we stand."

"Kyle's right," Stan chimes in, flashing a smile at his super best friend, "If we want a chance at winning this thing, we're going to have to pull other people in to vote with us. This game is a lot more complicated than Token made it sound."

"For you guys maybe, but that check is as good as mine!" Cartman blares, a devious smirk on his face.

Kyle Broflovski
Intellectual Know-it-all

How do I plan on winning the money? Well, let's put it this way: I'm playing the long game here and my goal in this competition is to stay as level-headed as possible. With Cartman here it's going to be a real challenge, but I think I can do it.

…

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

These guys are idiots, especially Kiel. They all think they have this competition in the bag, but little do they know I hold the secret formula for success right in my pocket. (holds up a piece of paper)  Step 1: Go on Big Brother, Step 2: ?, Step 3: Profit!

…

"Come on fellas, we shouldn't talk strategy, we should just focus on having fun!" Butters claims, unpacking his Hello Kitty backpack. He pulls out a shirt with a big yellow daisy on it and holds it up to his chest, "Do you think this is a good outfit to wear to our first competition?"

The boys stop and stare at Butters bizarrely. Cartman turns to Stan and gestures at the blonde over his shoulder. "I'm gonna give this kid two weeks tops," he says.

…

"I'm telling you, Craig. This is all a conspiracy!" Tweek claims, latching onto Craig's arm as the pair walk down the hallway, "It's obvious that this house was built by the gnomes to conduct horrible scientific experiments on us!"

"You really need to stop reading those magazines, babe," Craig states, walking past the living room where Stan and Kyle are sitting on the sofa.

"Stan, I think we should make a deal right now that no matter what happens in this game, you and I are going to stick together until the very end," Kyle smiles, holding out his hand.

Stan nods and shakes it, "You got yourself a deal, Broflovski," he winks, causing Craig to stop and raise an eyebrow while Kenny peeks around the corner of the hallway at the couple.

Kenny McCormick
Horny College Student

I know a lot of people came here for the money. But honestly, my goal before I leave here is to hook up with everyone in the house…and I mean everyone.

…

The scene cuts to everyone (minus Craig) screaming in the living room while Kenny hops on one leg holding his bloody stump with his hands. His right leg lies detached on the floor beneath him. "'Tis but a scratch, guys!" Kenny attempts to console them as Craig sits smugly on the sofa behind him.

…

One emergency surgery later, all ten of the housemates are back situated in the living room. Kenny turns and glares at Craig while he sits on the couch, Kenny's leg reattached and cast up as he rests it on a nearby ottoman.

"Craig, how many times do I have to tell you that you can't rip people's legs off every time they hit on Tweek?" Token scolds him from the loudspeaker.

"Now come on, where in the rules does it say that I can't rip someone's leg off?" Craig asks, crossing his arms as he sits on the opposite end of the sofa.

"Why would I need to put that in the rules? It's just common sense!" Token cries, mumbling a few choice words under his breath before getting back on the loudspeaker, "Alright, fine. I'll tell you what. I'll let you stay, if you apologize and promise not to do it again."

Craig rolls his eyes, "Craig Tucker doesn't apologize, Token. You should know that," Craig sits up in place, accidentally nudging Tweek in the side, barely touching him. "-Oh my God! I'm so sorry, babe. Are you okay?" he asks, grabbing onto Tweek's arm and pulling him closer, "Here. Let me kiss it to make it better."

"Craig," Tweek squeaks, blushing lightly, "you barely touched me."

"Well Craig," Stan begins, taking a step closer to him as he stands with Kyle side-by-side near the end table, "are you going to apologize to him or not?"

"Fine," Craig huffs, half-heartedly turning to the flirt, "I'm sorry you're a dumbass."

"Craig," Tweek states warningly.

Craig sighs and looks over to him once more, "I'm sorbet, Kenny."

Stan cocks his forehead, "Did you just say you're ice cream?"

"Actually, sorbet's not really ice cream, Stan," Kyle cuts in, raising his finger in point, "it's technically a-"

"Oh my God, will someone please shut up the Jew?" Cartman whines.

"Well, I can see this is getting absolutely nowhere, so it's time for everyone to compete in the first food competition. Food competitions are simple, each week you must work together to complete them. If you successfully complete the competition, you will be given a food-related reward. It can be anything from lobster to an ample amount of money for groceries, but if you fail the competition, you will be penalized and your grocery budget will be cut in half, which means your stomachs may have to pay the price," Token explains, "For this week's food competition, you must open a can of soup and warm it up on the stovetop."

"Impossible!" Clyde dramatically cries, holding his arm up towards the heavens, "It can't be done!"

"Clyde," Craig sighs, getting up to join his friend in the kitchen, "you literally just grab the tab on the top and-oh, why am I even bothering with this?"

Clyde chuckles. "Of course you would be an expert at the top, Craig," he cracks, causing Craig to scowl and punch him in the shoulder, "-Oww!" Clyde sniffs and rubs his aching bicep, "You know that hurt me more emotionally than it did physically."

Craig crosses his arms, "Good," he grumbles.

"Alright guys, stand back!" Cartman commands, pushing his way to the stovetop while the remaining housemates all crowd around him in the kitchen area. "I'm a master at these types of things!" Cartman grabs the can of soup and grips the top. Stan and Kyle watch wondrously a few feet away from him as he struggles to twist it open. After a good few minutes of tugging and cussing the aluminum soup can out, Cartman slams the can down on the counter. "Well, you guys asked for it. I guess I have no choice but to resort to Plan B," Cartman claims, taking a few steps back and throwing his head up towards the ceiling, "MYEEEM!"

"Oh for God's sake, Cartman. Just give Kyle the can!" Stan shouts, reaching towards the counter. Cartman quickly shields it from his grasp.

"No way! He'll probably Jew it up!"

"What the hell does that even mean, fatass?" Kyle blares next to him. Cartman jumps on Kyle, causing the pair to get into an all-out fist fight. Stan joins them in the tussle while Craig's group stares strangely at them.

"Leave it to those guys to get into a fistfight over a can of soup," Craig states stoically, rolling his eyes.

Clyde tilts his head, "Didn't you just rip Kenny's leg off for hitting on your boyfriend?"

"That was justified."

Wendy, Bebe, and Butters cheer as Bebe dumps the soup into a pot on the stove. "Congratulations, guys. You've just completed your first weekly food competition!" Token states, the sizzling of the food item causing the tussle to dissipate. "Now, it's time to head outside for your first Head of Household competition!"

…

The ten contestants – Stan, Kyle, Cartman, Kenny, Butters, Craig, Clyde, Tweek, Wendy, and Bebe – are standing in a straight, horizontal line in the backyard of the Big Brother household. Each of them are holding a two-foot pole and a brightly-colored tennis ball. "Alright, everyone. It's time for your first Head of Household competition," Token states from the loudspeaker attached to the side of the house, "But first, let me explain a little bit about the Head of Household position and what it entails."

"God, this sounds like a job interview," Craig mutters, rolling his eyes.

"The Head of Household is a highly-coveted position because in this game it has a lot of power," Token continues, "Whoever wins the competition will get to nominate two people for banishment and of course, gain access to the private room which features a wide array of snacks and a decently-comfortable bed."

"-You had me at snacks, buddy!" Clyde chimes, reaching into his pocket and digging out a granola bar. He unwraps it and takes a bite.

"Aye! Don't call him buddy, guy!" Cartman shouts from the opposite end of the line.

Token clears his throat, "Anyway, as I was saying, anyone who wins the Head of Household position is automatically ineligible from participating in the HOH competition the following week. This prevents anyone from going on a streak and just eliminating everyone in sight," he explains, "Now, for today's competition, each of you will be balancing a ball on a miniature pole using only one hand to hold onto the pole's base. Once your ball drops, you're out. The last person standing wins HOH," Token says, "To make things interesting, whoever places last in the challenge this week will be penalized in the next one, assuming that they are still here for it. If there are no questions, everyone position your poles and I'll count you down."

"This challenge is no fair, asshole! Kenny's a shoe-in to win," Cartman barks, "He practically spends all day on a pole!"

Kenny turns to Cartman, his voice muffled behind his signature orange parka, "Hey, fuck you, Cartman!"

"Everybody ready? Cause this challenge is on!" Token announces once the countdown clock reaches zero.

"I thought you said you were going to count us down," Kyle states.

"I lied."

Five seconds into the challenge, Tweek is already struggling as he fights down his twitches. "Goddammit," Tweek whispers under his breath, his distressful cry immediately catching his boyfriend's attention.

Next to Tweek, Craig moves his elbow out, preparing to opt-out, but Tweek narrows his eyes at him. "Craig, don't you dare throw this for me," he warns him.

Craig nods, straightening up his arm, "Okay, babe," he promises as an adjacent Clyde makes a whipping sound, "Fuck off, Clyde."

"Hey, this is pretty easy! I love playing with balls!" Butters chimes, causing most of the guys to choke back their laughter. Butters turns to Cartman, visibly confused by their reactions, "What?" he squeaks.

"Aww, damn it!" Tweek cries as his ball falls to the floor. He sighs as he watches it roll into the dirt, "I should've known. Steadiness isn't exactly my strong suit."

"Tweek is out first! Let's hope this doesn't cost you too much," Token states over the loudspeaker. Tweek sighs and takes a seat down on the lawn.

"Pst…Kahl. Kahl? KILE!" Cartman shouts, irritating the redhead standing a few people away from him.

"What?" Kyle hisses, doing his best to hold his concentration.

"Nothing," Cartman grins, "I just wanted to get you to drop-Oww!" he cries as Stan shoves him in the side with his elbow, instantly causing the two of them to drop, "Damn it, Stan! You're such a cheater!"

"It was worth it," Stan smirks, bending over to pick up his ball.

Twenty minutes later, only four contestants remain after Kenny stepped out to use the bathroom, Butters broke out into his rendition of "Camp Town Lady" and Craig kicked him in the shin, and Kyle saw a bee and screamed bloody murder, high-tailing away from the creature in fear of an allergic reaction. Bebe almost dropped out after complaining about getting too much sun and wanting to go to the nearest mirror to check her skin, but Wendy managed to talk her out of it.

"We're now down to the final four in this competition: Clyde, Wendy, Bebe, and…Craig," Token completes, sounding surprised by this news.

"Don't sound so shocked, Token, I'm better at handling balls than you think," Craig states, deadpan, struggling to hide the slight smirk on his face.

"JESUS CHRIST, CRAIG!" Tweek shrieks, his face beet red.

Next to him, the girls watch disgusted as Clyde crams his fifth granola bar into his mouth and chews, causing a sea of crumbs to rain down onto the pavement, a small pile of previously-discarded wrappers at his feet.

"Clyde, can you not? Some of those crumbs are landing on my skirt," Wendy complains, accidentally leaning forward. Her ball topples off her pole and bounces onto the back porch. "Shoot."

Craig sighs, watching as his ball loses balance slightly after hers. He shakes his head in disappointment. "Sorry, babe," he states, gazing at Tweek, who is now sitting between Stan and Kyle.

"It's okay. You tried your best, dude," Tweek smiles. Craig shoves Stan aside and sits next to him.

"And so it's come down to this: a showdown between Clyde and Bebe for the title!" Token announces eagerly, "Who will win our first ever HOH competition? I have a feeling we might be here all night-"

"Whoa!" Clyde shouts while he loses balance, helicoptering his arms as he falls to the floor with a thud, his challenge pieces and granola bar flying through the air in the process. "Aww man!" Clyde cries, mourning his fallen food more than his apparent loss.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Token mutters, "Bebe wins HOH! Congratulations!" he states, causing Wendy to jump up and cheer from the sidelines. Bebe races over and hugs her, equally excited as Butters and Tweek congratulate the winner. "Tomorrow you will announce your nominations to the rest of the group. Until then…enjoy your awesome room!"

…

Clyde Donovan
Human Garbage Disposal

Well, my ex won HOH, so this is pretty much the worst-case scenario for me. It doesn't a take genius to see that Bebe's probably going to nominate me tomorrow. My only hope at this point is that the person I go up against is less likable than I am, which isn't too hard to believe. I mean, come on, who would keep someone else over this face? (beams into the camera)

…

Later that night, Bebe and Wendy are sitting sprawled out on Bebe's new bed, the latter feeling surprisingly sick since she ate the dinner that Cartman claimed was food. Wendy groans as she holds her stomach. "Hey, you okay, girlfriend?" Bebe asks, her face filled with concern.

"Yeah. My stomach's just doing flip-flops right now. I should be fine in a few hours," Wendy claims, doing her best to push down the nausea, "But enough about me, who are you going to nominate tomorrow? This is a big decision, Bebe."

"I know, and I'm not taking it lightly," Bebe replies with a sigh, "The problem is I can justify nominating everyone in this house for one reason or another. I just don't know how I'm going to narrow it down."

"Well, let's talk through it then," Wendy says, getting into the crossed-legged position, "Tell me what you're thinking."

Bebe nods, nervously tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, "Well, it's obvious that both Craig and Kenny have caused tension in the house…and everybody hates Cartman, so I don't think anyone but him would be upset if I nominated him. Hell, Kyle would probably throw a party!"

"True," Wendy agrees.

"But – and I know I'll feel selfish for saying this – part of me really just wants to evict Clyde as soon as possible," she vents, staring down at the bedspread.

"Don't feel bad, Bebe," Wendy responds, reaching her hand out to place it consolingly on her best friend's shoulder. "Living with an ex must be super awkward. I can only imagine what you're going through. And this position is tough, you just have to do what you think is right – whether it be for yourself or for the group."

Bebe exhales, sounding like she is releasing the weight of the world from her lungs, "You're right, Wendy," she states, gazing up at her, "I gotta set myself free from all distractions."

…

A few hours later, Bebe is walking down the hallway back to her original bedroom after gifting her private room to Wendy for the night. The girl had been vomiting for the past hour, and Bebe wanted to make sure she could get a good night's rest. Bebe sighs as she continues down the hallway, the house dark and surprisingly silent for a space that houses Eric Cartman.

Bebe reaches the girls room and peeks in, finding Tweek and Craig lying asleep in their makeshift double bed hugging. Bebe's expression softens as thoughts of David flood her mind. For the first time this competition, she feels lonely.

She steps into the room and walks over to her dresser, quietly digging through one of the drawers for her sterling silver hairbrush. Bebe grips onto the handle and turns around, scanning the room, now realizing a certain brown-haired someone is absent. Not wanting to think twice about it, Bebe shakes her thoughts off, gently closes the drawer, and heads towards the door. She stops suddenly, accidentally knocking into someone in the process.

Bebe looks up only to find Clyde standing above her in the doorway, the pair standing chest to chest, the latter looking equally shocked. "What are you doing?" she whispers, more puzzled than anything.

"I was just getting my pillow," Clyde answers meekly, "I know you're not comfortable with me being here, so I was going to sleep on the sofa."

Bebe face falls, suddenly feeling like the world's biggest jerk, "Oh. Okay," she speaks, watching as Clyde awkwardly shuffles around her. Bebe turns away from the door and locks eyes with Clyde as he makes his way back to the exit, pillow in hand. "Clyde, you don't have to do this."

"No, it's fine, Bebe. Really," Clyde assures her with that same goofy smile, "Besides, if I stay here, I know you won't be able to keep your hands off me. I am irresistible," he jokes, giving a toothy smirk.

Bebe smiles, a strange, unknown feeling forming in the pit of her stomach as she watches him leave through the doorway and step into the darkness.

"Goddammit, why is my heart racing?" she mutters into the silence, her hand placed delicately over her pounding chest.

…

The next day, all ten housemates are gathered around the dining table awaiting Bebe's nominations for week one. Bebe sighs and clasps her hands together as she stands at the head of the table, staring out at a bunch of anxious faces. "As you guys know, I had to nominate two of you for banishment today, and this decision wasn't easy. I do like all of you in some way – except for Cartman-"

"AYE!"

"-So, without further ado, this week I nominate Craig and…"

Clyde stares up at Bebe, softly exhaling as he accepts his fate.

"…Kenny," Bebe completes, her nomination earning shocked expressions from both Wendy and Clyde. "Craig, I nominated you because you ripped Kenny's leg off. Need I say more?" she asks, turning to the raven before shifting her attention to the dishwater blonde, "Kenny, I nominated you because you cause trouble and make some people here uncomfortable, and I would like to maintain a peaceful house if at all possible," she explains, "If anyone has any questions, my door is open. Let's try to make this week as drama-free as possible, alright? This house meeting is dismissed."

Bebe watches as Stan's group stands up and exits the premise, Craig and those guys following close behind. Tweek stands up from his seat looking like he is about to cry while Craig is sporting the same stoic expression he always is. Clyde stands up next to Craig and nudges him in the shoulder, the former still in shock over dodging nomination, "Dude…" he whispers to Craig before the trio wanders off, leaving Bebe alone with a dubious Wendy.

"Come on Bebe, why did you do it?" Wendy asks, approaching her best friend and grabbing her by the arm.

"I told you, Wendy. It was for the group," Bebe answers.

Wendy cocks her forehead, not buying this for a second, "Right…the group," she repeats, her eyes shining in skepticism.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Intellectual Know-it-all

Bebe announced the nominations this afternoon and honestly, I'm not surprised. Now all that's left is to weigh the pros and cons of banishing both Craig and Kenny. We've only been here for five days and Craig is a pretty negative presence in the house, but if we get rid of him, we're going to have no one who will be able to calm Tweek down during his panic attacks – which have been fairly frequent these last few days. Kenny is my friend, but he has caused a lot of chaos in the house by flirting with everything in sight, so this decision is going to be tough.

…

Craig and Tweek are sitting side by side in the storage room, the latter covering his face with his hands as he freaks out over his boyfriend's nomination. "Ack, Craig! How did you get nominated the very first week?" Tweek asks, already twitching at the thought of losing him.

"I'm not a people person, you know that! Besides, I had to rip Kenny's leg off. There was no other option. It's the way of the fist, babe."

Tweek sighs, "I wish you would stop saying that's your religion…"

Craig gives a somber smile and scoots closer to him, wrapping an arm around the timid blonde. "Look, we both know that Stan's group with potentially Wendy and Butters are probably voting for me, so this doesn't look good."

"Craig! Why would you say that to me?" Tweek squeaks.

"I just want you to be prepared in case things don't work out the way you want them to," Craig explains. The pair mulls in dampened silence, neither one of them knowing quite what to say.

"You know, I noticed something," Tweek speaks up, "The girls don't seem to like Kenny too much…maybe there's still a way to save you. And if there is a way, I'll make sure it happens, tiger," Tweek smiles, patting Craig twice on the knee lovingly. He stands up and throws open the doorway, the determination in Tweek's actions shocking Craig to his core.

"Gosh, he must really like me," he mutters.

…

That evening, Bebe and Wendy are back in the girls room, the former showing her BFF her newest pair of incredible heels. Nearby, Craig is sitting on his bed with a half-awake Tweek, who is more tired than usual due to having to cut down his daily consumption of coffee significantly from fifteen cups to only three. Tweek is sitting with his head up against the wall, weakly holding his boyfriend's hand as Craig attempts to read a book.

Craig narrows his eyes as a familiar blonde enters the room, flashing the same sultry smile he used when he tried to pick up Tweek. "'Sup, ladies?" Kenny coos, stepping around Craig on his crutches to sprawl himself down on the bed next to the girls. Seeing him, Bebe and Wendy stop what they are doing and glare at him.

"Don't be a creep, McCormick," Craig warns, standing up and taking a few steps closer to him, "It's obvious no one's interested in sleeping with your smelly ass!" he yells, the volume of his voice causing Tweek to immediately snap awake and turn his face towards the crowd.

"Right…" Kenny smirks, standing up and licking his lips as he gives Craig a once-over, "…and you're sure you're not just jealous, Craigy poo? Say, I have an idea, how about you, me, and the Tweeksters have a little fun?" Kenny beams, dancing his fingers up Craig's shoulder, "I have no problem being the third wheel. Do you want to ride him first, or should I do it?"

Bebe and Wendy quickly back away, eyeing Craig's enraged expression, the stoic's hands clenching into fists. Craig growls and lunges at Kenny as Tweek races over to stop him.

"NO, CRAIG! THINK OF THE MURDER CHARGES!" he cries, pulling Craig back. Tweek twists him around and pins him down onto the nearest bed, the fit of strength shocking everyone around them. Tweek and Craig stare wide-eyed at one another; Tweek sweat drops.

"Whoa, Tweek. You can take Craig?" Kenny awes, Craig flushing in embarrassment at this discovery.

…

"I'm telling you, Stan. We can't trust him," Cartman outbursts, sitting on his bed in the boys room, "He's the three Js: Jersey, Jinger, and Jew! He would sell your soul in a second for some of that sweet, sweet Jew gold!"

Stan raises an eyebrow from his bed perpendicular from Cartman's, not sure whether to refute or just ignore this ridiculous accusation, "Come on Cartman, Kyle's our friend. I really don't think he would betray us in this."

"Stan?" a voice squeaks from the doorway. Stan looks up only to find his girlfriend Wendy poking her head into the entrance of the room, "Can we talk?"

Stan's stomach drops when he eyes the serious expression on Wendy's face, "Sure."

"Alone," she specifies further, narrowing her eyes at Cartman.

Stan quickly turns to him, "Get out of here, Cartman!" he orders.

The fat boy rolls his eyes and stands up, mumbling under his breath, "Man, I am so glad I'm not whipped like you guys!" he blares as he exits.

Cartman walks a few steps out then quietly ducks behind the nearest wall, pushing his ear up against it.

"So Wendy, what's up?" a voice that sounds like Stan's wonders.

Wendy sighs, "Well, as you know, we're supposed to vote to banish someone tomorrow and – I was kinda hoping that maybe you would vote for Kenny with me." Cartman widens his eyes and moves closer to the doorway, clinging onto every word.

"Kenny?" Stan shrieks, "Why?"

"Because Stan, he doesn't respect us girls or Tweek for that matter, and he makes us really uncomfortable," Wendy says, releasing a heavy sigh, "Look, I know he's your friend and I know Craig is kind of your rival, but I really believe that getting rid of Kenny is what's best for everyone."

"Wendy, I can't just turn my back on him like that. What kind of friend would I be if I did that?" he wonders.

Wendy pauses. "Well, you wouldn't be the greatest friend, but you'd be a pretty good boyfriend."

"Hey, Eric!" Butters chimes as he strolls over to his friend, causing Cartman to jump a mile.

"Quiet, Butters!" Cartman hushes, quickly pressing his ear back against the wall, "I'm trying to get intel on the other housemates."

Butters cocks his forehead, a peculiar smile on his face, "Well, that sounds like it hurts!"

All of a sudden, Kenny sashays down the hallway. He stops in front of the pair and fires a finger gun at Butters, leaning up against the wall next to him. "Hey, Buttercup," he schmoozes, "How's it hanging?"

"Kenny, I swear to God you better get the hell out of here before I punch you in the ribs!" Cartman growls, turning away from the wall to cuss at him.

…

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

Oh no. I am not thinking about switching just because hoity-toity Wendy Testaburger doesn't like Kenny. If anything, I would switch because I can relate to Craig more and he didn't spend his entire childhood eating bologna sandwiches. But that doesn't matter because I am not switching anyway. Eric Cartman never backstabs his friends! (pauses and crosses his forearms) What are you laughing at, Token?

…

Later that evening, Craig is sitting up against the wall in the hallway, his arms sprawled out on top of his knees as he stares off into space – the house surprisingly dim and serene around him. Tweek smiles and eagerly joins him, sipping his latest success story: a cup of instant coffee that took him about twenty minutes to make. Tweek sits down next to his boyfriend, his signature olive-green button-down shirt covered in coffee stains.

"I think I'm finally getting the hang of this whole instant coffee thing," he beams, stopping to take a sip of the concoction.

Craig blinks, "That's great, honey."

Tweek scrunches his eyebrows, Craig acting surprisingly detached, even for him. "What's wrong, Craig? Oh God! That wasn't your coffee, was it?" Tweek cries, his mind filling with horrifying thoughts, "Here, you can have what's left!" Tweek holds the mug out to him.

Craig blinks twice and looks up at his partner, finding Tweek's gesture endearing. "No, Tweek. You can have it," he states.

"Well, alright," Tweek replies, cautiously retracting the coffee and taking a sip, "But seriously Craig, what is up with you? You haven't been acting like yourself since we ran into Kenny."

"It's that obvious, huh?"

Tweek shakes his head, "No, you're always withdrawn. I just know you really well."

"Okay," Craig answers, barely moving his head as he gives a nod, "so why don't you tell me what's bothering me?"

"Well," Tweek begins, scrunching his forehead in thought, "if I had to guess then I would say that you're embarrassed that I'm stronger than you. But it's okay, Craig, it's been this way for while. You just never noticed because there was never a need for me to assert my dominance," Tweek explains, taking another sip of his coffee, the statement causing Craig's face to flush.

"Whoa, okay. You are not stronger than me. You just caught me off-guard."

Tweek leans forward and pats Craig on the back, "Sure Craig, whatever you say," Tweek states, a hint of dubiousness in his voice.

Craig groans and throws his head back against the wall, "Tweek, I'm being serious here. If what you're saying has even a sliver of truth to it, this could change our entire relationship!"

"How?"

"Well, if you can pin me down then I'm not the seme," he realizes, Craig's eyes widening in terror at the thought.

Tweek sighs and rolls eyes. "Oh good God, you mean you're still on that nonsense?" he facepalms, still hanging onto his cup of coffee with his other hand, "Craig, me being stronger than you doesn't change anything about our relationship, okay? You're overreacting."

Craig's gaze trails to the floor as he fiddles with the carpet underneath them. "Maybe you're right," he admits with a sigh before looking back up at him, "What difference does it make anyway? You being stronger than me changes nothing," he states into the darkness, although the expression on his face suggests that Craig himself may not believe these words.

…

Later that night, Stan is walking through the dark and empty hallway, Wendy's words racing through his mind as he makes his way to the boys room. Suddenly, Stan stops, hearing what sounds like gentle sobbing coming from down the hall. Stan looks both ways twice before carefully tiptoeing down the hallway over to the source of the sound. He traces it to the storage room and stops in front of the large, wooden door. Stan takes a deep breath and knocks on it. He slowly peeks his head in, instantly recognizing the bright green hat positioned a few feet away from him. "Kyle?" Stan squeaks, staring down at his super best friend.

Kyle sniffs, quickly wiping away his tears when he sees it's Stan. He hides his face, still sitting on the floor against the wall in the dimly-lit closet. "Oh. Hey, Stan," he greets weakly.

Stan cocks his forehead, still puzzled by the situation, "Were you crying?"

Kyle shakes his head, "No, of course not," he answers.

Stan steps forward and slowly sits down next to him, spying the silver necklace that Kyle is tightly gripping in his hand like it's his last lifeline. Stan sighs as he stares down concerningly at his friend, "Dude, you need to stop thinking about them."

"I know," Kyle states, holding his head up as he chokes back a sob, "I just can't believe I'm not over it yet. How could I be so stupid?"

"Hey, you're not stupid," Stan whispers comfortingly, "Cartman is stupid."

Kyle sniffs and nods, throwing his arms around Stan. He softly lowers his voice to a whisper, "Oh, Stan," Kyle states with a half-smile, "You always know just how to cheer me up."

…

Clyde whistles as he struts his way to the refrigerator, eager for his daily midnight snack. He grabs the refrigerator door and swings it open, Bebe's face illuminating in the darkness next to him. Clyde shrieks and stumbles backwards, falling onto his butt with a thud. "Bebe, what the hell are you doing up? I thought everyone was asleep by now!" Clyde notes, eyeing his ex suspiciously, "Don't tell me you're going to rat me out to everybody."

Bebe steps forward, releasing a heavy sigh, "No. I just thought after everything that happened yesterday. You might want to, you know, talk about it?" Bebe awkwardly speaks.

"Oh," Clyde replies, suddenly feeling all the joy sucked out of him. He stands up from the kitchen tile and brushes himself off, turning towards her, "I really don't think there's anything we need to talk about. Just…thanks for sparing me, I guess."

Bebe nods, dumbfounded by Clyde's laconic response. She blinks twice, "You're welcome."

…

Meanwhile, back in the girls room, Wendy is fast asleep in her bed against the back wall of the bedroom. Tweek and Craig are spooning in their makeshift double bed near the doorway, joking with each other at half volume, the latter feeling a bit better after their conversation earlier.

"All I'm saying is if you win the money, I'll propose to you," Craig states, causing Tweek to giggle in response.

"Ah, so you're a gold digger?" he jokes.

Craig smiles, "No," he beams, holding onto his boyfriend tighter, "Fine, I'll do it right before you win."

"Haha! Alright," Tweek says, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks of the absurdity of the scenario.

Craig sits up slightly and stares down at him, his expression sincere. "I'm not joking, Tweek. I seriously will," he tells him.

"I believe you, Craig."

"Really?"

"No," Tweek responds, smirking as he hits Craig with a pillow. Craig flops back down onto the bed and sighs, the couple gazing up at the rafters in silence.

Finally, Tweek opens his mouth to speak, "Hey Craig, will you marry me?" he simpers.

Craig shoots him a playful glare and bops him on the head with a pillow. "You're such an ass," he mutters.

…

The next day, everyone is gathered in the living room awaiting further instruction from their token black friend. Kenny and Craig are sitting on the two lounge chairs near the loudspeakers while the rest of the contestants are sitting on the surrounding sofas. "Alright, everyone," Token announces, "It's time for each of you to cast your vote for banishment. One by one, I will call you into the diary room where you will announce who you wish to be banished from the house and why. Once everyone has cast their vote, we will gather back here and I will reveal who must leave the Big Brother house forever."

"Dun, dun, dun!" Clyde sings below him.

"-Yes, quite," Token agrees before continuing, "The banished housemate then has five minutes to get their butt out the door. Before we vote, I'll give each of you one last chance to tell your fellow housemates why they should keep you. Craig, we'll start with you."

Craig stares forward, looking disinterested, and waves it off, "Pass."

"Kenny?"

Kenny turns to the crowd, sporting his best seductive smolder, "Keep me around and you'll find out why they call me Kenny the Magnificent," he winks.

"Okay. Now, without further ado, Stan, please go to the diary room," Token instructs.

Stan nods and makes his way to the diary room, passing by Tweek who is hugging himself and trembling while he sits on the sofa next to Craig, the blonde looking like he is about to vomit.

Stan Marsh
The Normal One

I know I told Wendy that I would think about it, but honestly, not voting for Craig never crossed my mind, so today I would like to cast my vote for Craig. I would say I'm sorry but I'm not, dude. Seriously, you need to work on your anger issues, you're almost as bad as Cartman.

Stan exits the room and sits back on the sofa next to his best friend. "Great," Token replies, "Wendy, you're up." Wendy gets up to cast her vote.

Wendy Testaburger
Hippie Rights Activist

Today my vote is for Kenny. Craig may not be the most pleasant person to be around, but at least he doesn't set the male population back a century.

Wendy returns to the sofas and Token calls Butters up. "Oh, boy! It's my turn!" Butters cheers, sprinting over to the diary room.

Butters Stotch
Southern Belle

Kenny, you're my friend. There's no way I would ever vote against you, so my vote is for Craig. I don't like voting people out, but unfortunately that's just the way it works, fellas.

Butters exits the room and rejoins Cartman on the sofa. He looks to the fat boy and smiles. "Alright, Donovan, cast your vote, you nerd," Token announces over the loudspeaker.

"Whatever you say, valedictorian," Clyde sasses, getting up to walk to the diary room.

Clyde Donovan
Human Garbage Disposal

Craig, come on man, we had a deal. It's Craig and those guys 'til the end. I didn't think I'd have to save your ass this early, but I'll do it cause I love you man. Obviously, this means my vote is for Kenny.

Clyde walks back to the sofas, a spring in his step. As soon as his butt hits the chair, Kyle stands up to cast his vote.

Kyle Broflovski
Intellectual Know-it-all

My vote is for Craig. Kenny is my friend and I think it makes the most sense for the four of us to stick together. I just gotta keep my head in the game and I think everything will be fine.

Kyle returns to the sofas and takes his seat next to Stan. "You okay?" Stan wonders. Kyle turns to him and smiles.

"Yeah," he nods.

"Tweek, you're up," Token states. The blonde is sitting cross-legged on the sofa, his eyes closed as he struggles to find his center. "Tweek," Tweek doesn't budge. "TWEEK!"

"Gah!" Tweek shrieks and falls off the sofa, causing Craig to shoot the loudspeaker a glare.

"Dude, it's your turn to cast your vote," Token informs him.

Tweek sits up, still shaking, "Do I have to? I think my vote is obvious. There's no way I'm going to evict my boyfriend."

"Believe me, everyone knows. We just need to get it on camera. It's simply a formality," Token explains.

Tweek shrugs, seemingly satisfied by this answer, "Oh, alright," he claims, slowly making his way over to the diary room.

"Come on Tweek, get the lead out!" Cartman cries, causing the blonde to eep and move faster. Craig shoots Cartman a glare from his chair, "What?"

Tweek enters the diary room, his legs shaking like jello as he approaches the signature red sofa. Tweek squeaks, accidentally knocking over a few chairs in the process. He stares wide-eyed into the camera.

Tweek Tweak
Extreme Coffee Addict

Okay, well, um, I'm voting for Kenny. It's not like I have anything against him personally, I would just never cast a vote against Craig, even if it cost me the money.

A few minutes later, after the remaining two people have returned from casting their votes. The rest of the housemates and Token watch as Cartman waddles back to the sofa, appearing rather pleased with himself in his position of power.

"Alright, the votes are in. It is now time to reveal who will be the first person to be banished from the Big Brother house," Token announces to the household, a few members looking like they are about to shit their pants at any moment: namely, Clyde and Tweek.

"Lay it on me, baby," Kenny coos, shooting a finger gun while Craig remains stoic next to him, like he couldn't care less about what's going to happen.

"By a vote of 4-3, the first person to be banished from the Big Brother house is…Kenny," Token announces, "Kenny, I'll give you five minutes to say your goodbyes, then you have to leave the house."

Kenny springs up out of his seat and smiles, grabbing his crutches, "No problem, I can do it in three!" he chimes, racing over to his best buddies. Next to him, Tweek is heaving a sigh of relief while Wendy is doing her best to hold back a smile.

Kenny throws his arms around Stan and Kyle and gives them a hug, "Bye, guys. Good luck and kick some serious butt!" he wishes, before letting them go and draping his arms around Butters, "Bye, Buttercup. Keep being awesome!" he proclaims. Kenny releases him and turns to the trio of Craig and those guys, who are standing a few feet away from him near the lounge chairs, "Bye, guys! Thanks for the fun – especially you, blondie," Kenny winks at Tweek, causing Craig to shoot him a death glare, his boyfriend now clinging to his arm. Kenny laughs, "I love you too, Craig," he states jokingly.

Kenny walks over to the front door and grabs his suitcase. He steps towards the exit then stops suddenly, turning back around to face his foe. Cartman raises an eyebrow as Kenny's expression darkens, flipping the fat boy the bird.

"Fuck you, Cartman!" he declares, swinging open the door and walking out into the daylight, leaving a speechless Cartman and an elated Kyle in the dust. The door slams shut.

Chapter Text

"…and that was when I realized that everything I had ever loved in my life had turned to shit," Stan laments, dramatically closing his journal. Kyle sits somberly next to Stan on one of the living room sofas, giving a small nod while he stares at the floor, the early-morning light from the sun seeping over them.

Cartman yawns from the sofa across from them, "Alright, kewl."

"No, it's not cool, Cartman!" Kyle barks, jumping down the fatass' throat, his face almost as red as his signature Jew fro, "Stan is sharing a very depressing moment in his life that left him damaged and hopeless. That's like saying it was cool when I had HIV!"

"I'm not just sure it's kewl, Kahl," Cartman remarks, his eyes shining in deviousness, "I'm HIV positive."

"AARGH!"

All of a sudden, Butters races into the room, running like the whole building is on fire. "HEY, FELLAS! FELLAS!" he shouts, bolting over to them. He stops in front of the trio and leans forward, catching his breath as he holds his stomach. The Boys watch as Butters takes a few deep breaths before staring up excitedly at them. "You'll never guess what I just heard!"

"You're adopted?" Stan answers.

"Craig and Tweek having sex?" Cartman guesses, causing Tweek to raise an eyebrow from his place next to the kitchen counter, the blonde in his casual wear.

"Uh, no," Butters replies, losing a bit of his pep, "Token just told me in the diary room that we're going to have a talent show for this week's HOH!" he chimes, bouncing up and down, "This is going to be so much fun! We're all super talented, after all. I gotta go tell the girls!" Butters exclaims, running out of the room without a second thought, leaving the trio puzzled behind him.

After a moment, Cartman sighs, tapping on his mug, "Seriously yew guys, why do we let him hang out with us?" he wonders. Stan shrugs.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

Well, I didn't get banished yesterday, so either I'm a good person or most of the people in this house are complete morons. And let's face it, we both know it's obviously the second one.

…

Craig sighs as he shifts on his bed slightly, slowly regaining consciousness. He smiles, feeling someone cuddling against him, and wraps his arms around them, squeezing them tight. "Good morning, honey," he greets.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" an unsuspecting but familiar voice beams back, causing Craig to scream and push them away, falling off the bed in the process.

Craig groans as Clyde hangs his head over the bed, the brunette staring down at him wondrously. Craig sits up and rubs his aching forehead before shooting his former bestie a glare, "Clyde?! What the fuck?" Craig shouts, the shock finally wearing off, "Where the hell is Tweek? And what are you doing in my bed?"

"I got lonely," Clyde shrugs, flashing his best puppy-dog look, "Ever since Bebe started dating David, I have no one to cuddle with anymore, and I need physical contact, Craig. I've always been that kind of person!"

"And this is my problem?" Craig states, standing up off the ground and brushing the dirt off his space pajama pants.

"Yes! Of course! My problem is your problem. And as our leader, you should help me with it," Clyde explains, watching as Craig takes a seat on the edge of the bed, the stoic tiredly rubbing his eyes. "What's the point of us being best friends if I can't sleep with you?"

Craig and Clyde turn towards the door as someone clears their voice from the hallway. Their gazes stop on Stan, who is flashing them a horrified look before making a beeline down the hall. Craig widens his eyes and jumps up, quickly heading towards the door. "No, no, no, no, NO!" he cries, hoping to squash this before it gets out of hand.

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

Clyde has gotten a lot clingier than usual lately, which is surprising, even for him. I used to think Tweek was clingy, but at least it's cute when he does it.

…

A few minutes later, Craig returns to the bedroom looking even more checked out than he did three minutes ago. Clyde smiles as Craig sighs and defeatedly rejoins him on the bed. "Anyway, you gotta help me with Bebe. She's totally giving me mixed messages!"

"Ugh, fine," Craig caves, rubbing his tired eyes, "What'd she do this time?"

"Well, she didn't nominate me for banishment last week and she wanted to talk to me about it, but she's still dating David. That girl makes no sense!" he cries.

Craig groans and facepalms. Even at age twenty-two, he still doesn't have time for this shit.

"I thought playing hard to get would help," Clyde continues, completely ignoring his friend's disinterest, "but she's not responding to any of my advances."

"It's only been seven hours," Craig grumbles, flopping onto his back and covering his face with his hands.

"Yeah," Clyde agrees, "and in here that's like three months!"

Craig moans and throws the blanket over his head, hoping to block out his greatest annoyance.

"Come on Craig," Clyde begins, leaning forward to stare at his friend, "don't you want to help out your best friend?" he asks, batting his eyelashes.

"Tweek's my best friend," Craig mumbles.

Clyde throws the blanket off Craig and stares into his eyes, his expression a mixture of shock and sadness, "Tweek can't be your best friend and your boyfriend! That's occupying two spots, man. It's against the bro code!" he whines.

"Why not? They don't have to be mutually exclusive."

"Well, yeah, but if Tweek's your best friend then that means I'm not," Clyde squeaks, his lower lip trembling.

Craig turns to the side, propping himself up with his elbow as he narrows in on his friend's expression. "Oh God, Clyde please don't," Craig pleads, already knowing the waterworks will start any second, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. "If you don't cry, I'll get you a sandwich."

"Really?" Clyde sniffs, perking up a bit. Craig rolls his eyes and reluctantly nods. "WHOO! FREE FOOD!" Clyde cheers, throwing his arms up in celebration, his sadness seemingly forgotten.

…

Five minutes later, Tweek is standing in front of the kitchen counter singing the chorus of MC Hammer's signature song, "Can't Touch This", under his breath and dancing a little in place while he carefully prepares his coffee. Craig peeks around the corner, trying his best to embrace his inner Feldspar-the-Thief stealth as he creeps towards him.

Craig bolts forward, tackling Tweek from behind. The blonde eeps, grabs Craig, and quickly flips him backwards, pinning him down back-first against the kitchen tile. "Oh, hey, Craig!" Tweek cheerily greets, his demeanor instantly relaxing when he realizes the supposed attacker was just him. Craig sighs.

"Hi, Tweek," Craig mutters, his face flushing at his supposed failure as Tweek stands up and helps him off the ground, "Where were you this morning? Clyde decided to climb into bed with me."

Tweek leans towards the counter, retrieving his cup of coffee and bringing the mug to his lips with a shrug. "He always does that," he states.

"I know, but this time he smelled like sour cream," Craig says with a shudder.

Across the room, Stan is sitting at the dining table with Kyle and Clyde, the super best friends watching as Clyde shovels what appears to be breakfast down his gullet. Stan and Kyle exchange disgusted glances before turning back to the display in front of them. Stan clears his throat. "Uh…Clyde?" he speaks up, earning a glance from the brunette, "You gotta stop eating so much, dude. You already went through half the grocery budget this morning."

"What?!" Clyde squeaks, quickly throwing his head up and swallowing the food in his mouth before continuing, "That's ridiculous!" he complains, "That's like telling Tweek not to drink coffee or telling Craig not to flip people off."

Stan sighs and clasps his hands together on the table with a shrug, "I have told them both of those things before with little to no problem, so you're going to have to find a better example."

…

"A talent show? Really?" Bebe squeaks, bouncing up and down excitedly next to Wendy, the pair standing in the HOH room with Butters, who has just told them the good news, "This is so exciting! But-oh wait. That's right. I won't be able to participate because I was HOH last week," Bebe realizes, landing back down on the ground with a disappointing thud.

"It's okay, Bebe," Wendy assures her, patting her best friend gently on the shoulder, "You can still have fun watching the show, and who knows? Maybe you could even help some of us with our performances!"

"Hey, yeah!" Bebe beams, her face brightening up at the thought. "I can even do wardrobe!" she realizes, "So, do you guys have any idea what you're going to do for your acts?"

"Hmm…well, I guess I could always give my speech on why we should change South Park's flag again…" Wendy mutters, before quickly turning her attention towards the only guy in the room, "What are you thinking of doing, Butters?"

"Me?" Butters squeaks, unable to believe that he is actually being included in a conversation, "Oh, well, um, maybe I could sing my song about apples…" Butter trails off, the young blonde seeming rather disappointed at the thought, "Of course, I wouldn't have much of a chance at winning HOH if I did. I'm much more of a dancer than a singer."

"Then why don't you dance, Butters?" Wendy wonders, "I don't think I've ever seen you dance before," she states, Bebe nodding in agreement next to her.

"Oh…gee, ladies," Butters begins, taking a step back and nervously fiddling with his hands in the process, "I would love to, but I haven't tap danced once since…the incident," Butter completes, turning forward and widening his eyes as he ominously stares at the wall.

Bebe tilts her forehead, puzzled, "The incident?"

"Yeah…I sort of accidentally killed eight people during one of my competitions," Butters quickly mutters, rubbing the nape of his neck, "then of course there was that dance team…"

"Well, just because it happened twice doesn't mean it's going to happen again," Wendy assures him, "Besides, this house is super safe. I'm sure nothing bad will happen."

Bebe nods, placing a hand on Butters's shoulder, "And if it does, just aim your shoe at Cartman."

Butters cocks his head, "Cartman?" he repeats.

"Eric," Wendy clarifies.

"Oh yeah," Butters states, giving a small smile as he plays with his knuckles, "Well, if you girls believe in me that much, I guess I have to do it."

"Awesome!" Bebe cheers, pulling him into a side hug, "Now let's get to work on your costume. I have a million ideas for it!"

…

Later that morning, Stan and Kyle are sitting on Stan's bed in the boys room watching their third group member as he stares up at the ceiling, their frustrations growing in the silence. "Alright, fatass. Why the hell did you vote for Kenny?" Stan asks with a piercing glare.

Cartman sits up on his bed and huffs, immediately getting defensive, "How do you know I was the one who voted for Kenny? For all you know, it was the slippery Jew!" he barks, pointing his finger in Kyle's face.

The redhead sighs, "It was not me," he states as Stan turns and shoots a glare at Cartman.

"Alright, fine. It was me," he caves, "but as usual, you two are thinking like middle-aged bitches. Craig's the most violent one here; he's not going to win this thing. He never even had a chance at winning this thing! He's probably only here because Spazatron wanted him to come," Cartman argues, his face turning as red as his jacket, "So why would we vote him off the first chance we get? Personally, I'd rather have Mr. Antisocial than Mr. Social."

Stan groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Cartman, we had a deal to stick together until we had the numbers," he responds, "You just screwed us over week one! We could've cut the head off the dragon! Now we're tied in members with Craig and those guys."

"-Who, as I said before, aren't even playing, so what's the problem?" Cartman asks, already growing tired of this conversation. Cartman sighs, the bed releasing a horrifying squeak as he stands up, "Now, if you two are done being Negative Nancys, I'm going to go bother Butters. That kid has been too cheery lately. It's starting to get on my nerves," he says, before pointing both his fingers to the door, "Screw you guys. I'm going to the kitchen!" the announces, the super best friends watching as he waddles out the door.

Stan and Kyle sit in silence for a moment, waiting until they can no longer hear Cartman's departing footsteps. "You know, we're idiots if we keep him," Kyle whispers, nudging Stan in the shoulder.

Stan nods, "I know. That's why we gotta make sure he doesn't win HOH this week, so we can screw him before he screws us over."

Kyle shuts his eyes and shudders, causing Stan to shoot him a curious look, "Thanks for that visual," Kyle mumbles.

…

A half hour later, Stan is sitting on the sofa reading Craig's book about Space when someone comes over and throws their arms around him, pulling him close, their scent of lilacs rubbing off on him, "Oh, Stan!" Wendy speaks, pulling her boyfriend into a hug, "I'm so glad you decided to vote with us yesterday. You really are the best boyfriend ever!" she beams, pecking him on the cheek.

Stan's face flushes, already feeling the vomit coming up from the pit of his stomach but not for the reason most would think. "Uh…yeah," Stan squeaks, quickly putting the book down.

"You know, Bebe didn't think you were going to do it. She thought you were going to chicken out at the last minute, but I always knew you had the guts!" Wendy chimes, kissing him on the face once more before swinging over the sofa and taking a seat on her boyfriend's lap, Stan's stomach flopping at the word 'guts'.

"Yeah, that's great, Wendy-" Stan stops suddenly, his eyes widening as he sees Kyle walking towards him. He gently nudges Wendy to the side, urging the girl to get off him. Wendy cocks her forehead before taking the hint, precariously getting off her boyfriend, who hasn't stopped gazing at his best friend since he entered the room. She sits down on the cushion next to him and anxiously taps her kneecaps, "So yeah, um, I'll see you around," Stan tells his girlfriend, the latter completely oblivious to her boyfriend's antics. Stan races out the back door.

Wendy nods, slightly taken aback by Stan's sudden departure, "Oh, uh, alright."

…

Tweek Tweak
Extreme Coffee Addict

So Token told us this morning that our HOH competition this week is going to be a talent show, which made me a bit uneasy cause I placed last in the competition last week, so I'm supposed to be penalized somehow in this one. And ever since I found that out, I've been up all night freaking out about it, which is strange for me, I know. (gives a small laugh) But seriously, I hope I don't die here. It's bad enough I have to live in a house with all these cameras.

…

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to your next food competition," Token announces over the loudspeaker after rounding up all of the contestants in the living room, "But before we get to the excitement, I just want to ask everyone how they've been doing. I know it was pretty crazy last night."

"Yes," Cartman butts in quickly before Kyle has the chance to speak, "And we will avenge our good friend Kenny, God rest his soul," Cartman mutters, making the sign of the cross as he clutches his silver cross necklace that he got from his time in Faith +1 in his palm.

Stan crosses his arms, "Kenny's not dead, Cartman," he states with an eye roll.

"Guys, it's Kenny," Cartman reminds them, "He's probably lying in a ditch somewhere being eaten by rats as we speak!"

Token sighs, wanting to voice a rebuttal but knowing to keep out of this nonsense. "Alright, Tweek," Token says, turning the spotlight to the twitchy blonde who shrieks at the attention, "As everyone knows, you placed last in the previous competition, so you will be penalized in this one," he reminds the crowd, "Since I'm not a total monster, I'll let you pick which of the two things you will go 24 hours without. If you fail, the food budget will be cut by 50% for this week. If you pass, hell, I'll even throw in a state-of-the-art coffeemaker," he adds, feeling generous.

Tweek crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes skeptically at the offer, "Which brand?"

"It's a Grindmaster 5000."

Tweek's eyes widen like saucers. He starts drooling as he clasps his hands together, angelically gazing up at the rafters, his eyes shining at the thought, "Oh my God…"

Craig snaps his fingers in front of Tweek's face, his boyfriend still dazed next to him. "Great, we lost him," he mutters.

"But remember Tweek, you only win the groceries and the coffeemaker if you can last one whole day without your chosen thing," Token states, snapping the young man back to reality, "So, what will it be: Coffee or Craig?" he wonders, the question causing all of the other contestants to stand frozen in shock.

Tweek slumps his shoulders forward, releasing a heavy sigh, "Coffee," he states.

"Wow. That did not take much thought," Token comments, "Alright then. Tweek must go without coffee until noon tomorrow. If he drinks even a sip of it, the challenge is lost. Good luck everyone, and may God have mercy on us all," he says, quickly getting off the loudspeaker before the somber mood envelopes him too.

Everyone stands in silence, lamenting over the upcoming difficulty of this task. "Oh boy, this'll be fun!" Butters smiles, bouncing up and down slightly, earning a few glares from The Boys in response.

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

Honestly, part of me was kinda hoping he would pick me cause Tweek without coffee is next-level terrifying. I don't really think anyone but myself and Tweek know what these people are in for.

…

A half hour later, Craig and Tweek are sitting on their double bed in the girls room, the latter already experiencing a bit of a headache from his caffeine withdrawal when Clyde walks into the room, smiling like he just won the lottery. Clyde stops in front of the couple and claps his hands together, a satisfied smile gracing his face. "Well, I finally figured out a way to get Bebe to fall back in love with me."

Craig facepalms, "Oh no," he mutters under his breath. Clyde raises an eyebrow as Craig lifts his head back up to stare at his friend, "Are you sure you want to do this? You don't exactly have the best success with romance."

"No offense, Craig," Clyde huffs, folding his arms over his chest, "but what do you know about romance?"

Craig turns to the side, locking eyes with his boyfriend before staring back up at Clyde. "You got me there," he states flatly.

"Besides, everyone knows if you want to woo a girl, you have to go outside her window, hold a boombox over your head, and play Peter Gabriel."

Craig turns back to Tweek, "Did you know that?" he asks. Tweek shakes his head.

"But since I can't go outside or have access to a boombox, I'm going to have to do the next best thing and serenade Bebe with my voice of an angel!" Clyde beams, pulling out a guitar from behind his back. Craig's widens his eyes at this news but keeps his mouth in a line.

"Well, good luck," Tweek says.

"Thank you, Tweek, but I won't need it!" Clyde declares, oozing with confidence, his confidence only soaring when Bebe enters the room.

Seizing the opportunity, Clyde turns to his ex-girlfriend, a seductive smile on his face as he takes a few steps closer to her. "Bebe, I still love you," Clyde confesses, the girl immediately stopping in her tracks, turning towards him, and cocking her forehead when she hears this statement, "and I'm prepared to do anything to get you back."

"Oh good God," Craig mutters, fully aware that he is about to witness a disaster, "Uh…can we just get out of here first?" Craig asks, gesturing to himself and Tweek.

Clyde ignores him, takes a deep breath, and starts serenading Bebe, "BuT I LovE iT WhEn YOu sInG To mE!" he off-key choruses, his singing almost as terrible as what he calls "playing the guitar".

Beside him, Craig cringes on the bed while Tweek sits next to him, covering his ears with his hands. "This is physically painful to witness," Craig comments.

"Clyde? Clyde! CLYDE!" Bebe cries, quickly holding her hand out and stopping him before he can continue butchering the song, "For the love of God, please stop."

The boy stops playing and gazes at her. "It's that good, huh?" Clyde smirks, hugging the guitar to his chest.

Bebe shakes her head, "No, it's terrible, and I have a boyfriend. Why can't you respect that?" Bebe questions, quickly stepping past him on her way to the door.

Clyde throws his arms down, completely dumbfounded by her less-than-stellar response while his friends awkwardly sit nearby, "Well, I'm sorry that you keep giving me mixed messages!"

"What messages?" Bebe shouts, the argument so loud that it's starting to attract a small crowd in the doorway, "I've made it very clear time and time again that I want nothing to do with you! You and I are over, don't you get that?!"

"No, and clearly you don't either if you keep trying to make the moves on me. Even Craig thought you wanted me!" Clyde retorts.

"What? No, I didn't!" Craig cries.

Clyde nudges Craig in the shoulder, cupping his hand over his mouth as he lowers his voice to a whisper, "Play along, I'll make it up to you later."

"Clyde, I don't love you anymore," Bebe states firmly, releasing a heavy sigh, "You and I are not getting back together…ever," she declares, quickly exiting the room, shoving past Cartman in the doorway.

Everyone immediately shifts their attentions to Clyde, who is standing in the center of the room, looking like he is going to burst into one of his signature sobs at any moment.

"Uh…Clyde?" Craig speaks up, never feeling more awkward in his life.

Clyde throws himself onto Craig and breaks down crying, the impact of the lunge causing Craig to fall flat on his back with a thud. Clyde lays on top of him, drenching the leader's shirt with tears as he hugs him. Tweek reaches over and pats Clyde gently on the back, Craig wincing from the extra weight on him and the unbridled display of emotion.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

It's been an hour since Tweek gave up coffee, which means we're about to enter what I like to call The Five Stages of Fear. The Five Stages of Fear are like The Five Stages of Grief, only much more terrifying, and describe step-by-step the terror of what we're about to experience during Tweek's caffeine withdrawal. In the first stage, Tweek gets a huge headache – not too scary, I know, but then stage two starts…

…

Tweek is lying face down on the living room floor, sobbing into the carpet as a small crowd of his housemates gather around him. "It's not fair! Why?! Why do they have to keep us apart?!" Tweek wails, rolling onto his back and screaming at the ceiling.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

Stage two usually lasts for about an hour, then the most bizarre stage begins…

…

Craig is sitting on the sofa, staring at the loudspeaker on the wall, doing his best to ignore his partner's antics. Next to him, Tweek is cradling his boyfriend's head in his hands as he sits on the leg of the couch. Tweek leans forward and starts gingerly licking the side of Craig's face.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

Then the extreme paranoia kicks in…

…

"Tweek!" Craig calls out, standing in the backyard as he calls up to his boyfriend, who is sitting in a fetal position on the roof. Tweek is trembling like there's no tomorrow. "Babe, come on! Tom Cruise is not hiding in the closet! We should know; we were in there for 19 seasons!" he attempts to soothe him.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

But don't worry, just in case you thought the first four stages were too easy, the last one is absolute pandemonium and destruction…

…

Tweek calmly exhales as he stands in the center of the living room, the house serene around him. "Oh, well," he states peacefully into the air, "I guess I just won't be able to have any coffee today. How lovely," he says with a hefty lip twitch.

Tweek blinks twice, staring straight ahead for a moment before he finally snaps. He starts screaming and grabbing random household items, throwing them around the room in a frenzy.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

And people think I'm the destructive one. (smirks)

…

Stan walks over to Craig, who is leaning up against one of the hallway walls, safely watching Tweek tear through the living room like a tornado. "Aren't you going to do something about this?" Stan wonders as a few of their fellow housemates cower behind the kitchen counter.

Craig shrugs, not even bothering to budge, "Eh, he'll tire himself out eventually."

Stan huffs and rolls his back onto the wall, his arms crossed in irritation.

…

Stan Marsh
The Normal One

Craig is such an asshole. He may have half the town fooled, but I swear he doesn't care about anyone but himself. How did he even make any friends, let alone run a whole group? It just doesn't make any sense! (leans back on the sofa) – And you know Kyle would agree with me.

…

A few minutes later, Stan sighs, growing tired of waiting for his rival to step in once Tweek's outcries attract the attention of everyone in the house. Even Bebe and Wendy leave the HOH room to check out the disruption.

"Craig," Stan hisses, "this is getting out of hand. You should really do something. He's your boyfriend, dude, tell him to calm down."

Craig sighs and rolls his eyes up at the ceiling, "Thank you, Captain Obvious," he quips.

At this, Butters peeks out excitedly from behind the fridge, "Captain Obvious is here?!"

After five terrifying minutes of things escalating beyond any human's control, Stan watches curiously as Craig starts counting down from ten under his breath next to him, tapping against his leg with each digit as he does so. When he reaches five, Craig pushes himself off the wall and calmly approaches Tweek, who has remarkably ceased his screaming and destruction and is now weakly swaying in the center of the carpet. At zero, Tweek lets out a small squeak and falls backwards into Craig's waiting arms. Craig takes a few steps back and gently lays Tweek down on the floor, grabbing a pillow from the nearby sofa and placing it under his boyfriend's head as he does so. Craig slowly stands up and walks by Stan, who is flashing him an incredulous gaze from the hallway.

"This ain't my first rodeo, Marsh," Craig smirks, addressing his question before Stan can even open his mouth.

…

The next morning, after a surprisingly restful night for the other housemates following the biggest outburst in Big Brother history, the housemates groan when they hear thunderous screaming coming from the living room.

"This competition is making him sick, Token! He had such a huge headache last night that he had to wear an ice pack! He didn't sleep a wink!" Craig rages, glaring up at the loudspeaker.

"Craig, it was Tweek's choice to give up coffee," Token calmly responds, hoping some of his demeanor will rub off on his friend, "He knew what he was getting into when he chose it."

"This competition was designed to hurt him! You knew he'd be suffering if he picked either! Now call this dumbass challenge off!" Craig shouts, completely oblivious to the fact that Tweek has just wandered into the room behind him. Tweek walks over to him, still holding the ice pack to his forehead.

"No! Don't," Tweek speaks up, staring straight at the loudspeaker, the outburst causing Craig to immediately turn to him. "I can do it," he states, giving a firm swallow.

"Great," Token states, quickly getting off the loudspeaker before Tweek can give it a second thought.

Craig turns to his boyfriend, confused beyond belief as to what just happened. "Why did you do that?" he wonders.

"Craig, it's true. I have a dependency on it. And I want to get better," Tweek assures him, unsure of which dependency he's referring to, "What other opportunity am I going to have to do this?"

Craig narrows his eyes at him, his expression softening as he sees the determined glint in Tweek's eyes, "You're right," he sighs, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Tweek states, giving a small smile as he affectionately places his hand on Craig's arm, "What you did was actually really sweet," he assures him, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to refill my ice pack."

…

As the final five hours of the challenge approaches, Stan, Kyle, and Cartman are gathered in the backyard of the Big Brother house, the trio standing in front of the only tree. Cartman grins as he takes a line of rope out from behind his back, coming up with his greatest idea yet as he stares across at the twitchy blonde boy, who is leaning up against the plant.

Tweek twitches as he watches Cartman lean forward and wrap the rope around him, tying the blonde securely to the tree. "Is – ngh! – all this really necessary?" Tweek asks, watching Cartman circle around him, "I have self-control! I can make it 'til noon!"

"Maybe so, but after that stunt you pulled yesterday, I want to be 100% sure that we're going to win this thing," Cartman replies, getting to the end of the rope and tying it securely around the other end. "The last thing we need is less food, especially with Clyde wringing us dry every week," Cartman takes a step back to admire his work, "Well, have fun, nerd," he states, patting the rope once before waddling back into the house with his two buddies. Tweek spies the coffeemaker through the kitchen window. He slouches forward and sighs.

…

Fifteen minutes later, Stan is lounging on the sofa in the living room, whispering sweet nothings into his love interest's ears. "You know, I always thought you had the cutest smile," Stan coos, causing his love to giggle from their place on Stan's lap.

"Oh, yeah. What else do you like about me?" Kyle chimes, his eyes glistening as he stares down at his super best friend.

Stan blushes and turns towards the open back window, "Well, there's-" Stan's eyes widen, now noticing that the tree is empty, the ropes thrown carelessly onto the lawn. He sits up in place, Kyle gently moving off him as the pair lock eyes with Tweek, who is now standing at the back door near the coffeemaker, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Get him!" Stan cries, the trio all springing into action at the declaration. Stan and Kyle race over, tackling Tweek to the floor on his sprint to the coffeemaker.

"Come on," Tweek cries, trying to claw his way out of the pair's grasp and surprisingly succeeding, "let me just taste it! Oh God!"

"No!" Kyle shouts, trying to hold him back.

Stan groans as he struggles next to him, his hold on the blonde failing fast, "Damn it, Tweek! Why are you so slippery?"

All of a sudden, Craig steps into the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at the trio on the floor. Craig watches as Stan and Kyle wrestle his boyfriend, attempting to keep Tweek from losing the challenge for everyone. Craig sighs as he casually sips his soda. "You know, I can distract Tweek for a few hours," he states above them.

Hearing this, Stan immediately lets go of the blonde and stands up, pulling Kyle with him. The super best friends lean over the kitchen counter and huff, severely out of breath from the endeavor. "Oh thank God!"

Craig rolls his eyes and walks over to his boyfriend, who is gripping onto the side of the coffeemaker for dear life. "Come on, Tweek. Let's go," he mutters, pointing his arm over his shoulder.

"But-but coffee," Tweek whines, his pupils dilating in pure innocence as he cradles the cup.

Craig sighs and stares up at the ceiling, "You can have that later, now come on," Craig states, picking him up and physically moving Tweek away from the machine before he decides to fight.

…

An hour later, Tweek and Craig are lying on their makeshift double bed alone in the girls room, the former laying his head on his boyfriend's chest as he hugs him, Tweek's head surprisingly clear and calm after their romantic activities.

"Hey, do you think Stan is gay for Kyle?" Craig speaks into the silence while he affectionately pets Tweek's hair, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere as he gazes up at the ceiling.

Tweek lifts his head up, setting his hand gently on Craig's bare chest as he stares into his eyes, "Huh. I don't know," he answers honestly, "I always thought Kyle was gay for Stan, but he has dated a lot of women over the years. Although he was only head over heels for what's their face…" Tweek trails off before cocking his forehead lightly, "What brought this on?"

"I'm not sure," Craig sighs, still slightly winded, "Stan's just been giving off strange vibes when he's around him lately, but I guess it's probably nothing," he states, waving it off as he hugs his boyfriend closer to him. Tweek simply shrugs and lays his head back down on Craig's chest. He sighs.

Chapter Text

Craig moans as he slowly opens his eyes a few hours later, the overhead light giving him a bit of a headache. Craig tries to bring his hand up to his face to soothe it, but he can't budge. "What the hell…?" he mutters, quickly shaking himself awake when he eyes his ankles tied to the edges of the bedposts, the bed sheets wrapping them tightly in place. Craig turns from side to side only to find his wrists restrained as well, his hands fastened to the headboard. "Tweek? TWEEK!" Craig calls out to the empty room, still racking his brain over what happened. A feeling of dread forms in the pit of his stomach as the realization suddenly dawns on him, "-Oh no."

Craig bolts out of the room dressed in only his boxer shorts as he makes a beeline to the conjoined kitchen and living room area. Sure enough, Tweek is lying on the kitchen tile, rubbing instant coffee on his skin, the blonde laughing maniacally as he smears it all over his body.

"I am coffee bean…" Tweek whispers to himself as the rest of their housemates gather around them.

"Well, it's officially noon and Tweek is covered in instant coffee, so that means you guys lost the food competition," Token announces over the loudspeaker. Several of the other housemates glare down at the culprit, "that means your grocery budget will decrease by fifty percent this week."

"Now, wait just a minute here, Token," Craig says, standing beside his boyfriend, "You said if he had one sip of coffee then we'd lose the challenge, but technically Tweek didn't drink the coffee, so doesn't that mean we won?"

Token is silent for a few moments; the housemates exchange puzzled glances with each other. "But that's not-" Token begins, thinking this one over, "But he didn't-" Token pauses, before letting out a defeated sigh, "-Goddammit. Fine, Craig. I guess you guys win on a technicality…but I'm not happy about it."

"Not as happy as you were after seeing Black Panther, right?" Cartman smirks up at the loudspeaker.

"Shut-up, Cartman."

The girls cheer as Craig reaches down and pulls a coffee-covered Tweek up from the floor, immediately pulling him into a hug. Tweek groans, still dazed from his antics, instant coffee dust sprinkled over his cheeks. "Did I do good, Craig?"

"Yes, babe. You did fantastic," Craig states, gazing down at him, before quickly shooting his hand up to cover his nose, "but please take a shower. You smell like your dad's sunset blend."

"You know, the secret ingredient is meth," Tweek adds in point.

"What?!"

"I'm just kidding," Tweek says, leaning into Craig's right ear, "It's meth and nutmeg."

"Gross!" Clyde cries out from beside the sofa, "Who the hell likes nutmeg?"

…

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

Things have been unbelievably slow here, especially without a partner to keep me company. That's why I'm so glad the talent show is happening because it finally gives me something to do. Butters is so fun to make over. He has a really great bone and facial structure. Of course, I can make anyone look pretty, but having a cute face definitely helps the process!

…

Bebe smiles as she carefully details Butters's eyelid with a sparkly pink eyeliner pen. Bebe steps back and scans Butters over, beaming at her work. "Do I look cute?" Butters wonders as he sits in front of the bathroom mirror, the two girls in the house standing on either side of him.

"You look adorable," Bebe nods, "With our help, you're going to win this talent show for sure! Now, we just have to decide on wardrobe. After much deliberation, Wendy and I have successfully narrowed your shirt choice down to two options."

"What do you think, Butters? Pink or aqua?" Wendy asks, holding both shirts up by the hangers. Butters scrunches his forehead in thought.

"You should go with the pink one. It matches the eyeliner," Tweek states in passing on his way to the shower. Bebe cocks her head to the side, seriously thinking this suggestion over.

"Tweek, wait!" Wendy outbursts, stopping the blonde before he can undress, "Can we talk for a second?" she asks, stepping fully clothed into the shower with him. Wendy slams the door shut behind her.

"Eek, Wendy! What are you doing?!" Tweek shrieks, his fists clenched nervously to his chest as he scans the tiled walls, "The camera turns on if there's more than one person in here," he whispers.

Wendy tilts her forehead, "How do you know that?" Tweek's face flushes. "Never mind," Wendy says, quickly waving it off, "Look, I just wanted to make sure that the plan is still on."

"Yeah, of course," Tweek states, feeling his shoulders ease up, "I'm not one to back out. Who am I, Cartman?"

"No," Wendy smirks, "and thank God you're not. Great. We'll keep things going then-" Wendy turns to step out the door. She jiggles the handle, but it doesn't budge. "-Uh oh. The door is stuck," she states, already bracing herself for Tweek's panicked overreaction. Wendy quickly bangs her hands flat on the skewed surface, hoping to catch her best friend's attention, "Bebe! BEBE, HELP!" she shouts, unaware that Bebe has already left the bathroom with Butters a mere moment ago.

Tweek steps back against the tiled wall, trying his best to keep himself from having a panic attack. "Ngh! Here. Get on my shoulders," he proposes, gesturing her over to him, "I can hoist you up, then you can climb over and unlock it from the outside."

Wendy nods, "Okay."

Tweek groans as he hoists Wendy up. She grabs the top of the structure and climbs over the door before accidentally losing her balance and falling on Craig, who is nonchalantly heading straight towards the shower. Wendy lands on top of him, knocking Craig onto his back with an ommf.

"Man, even when I'm gay, I have girls throwing themselves at me. Careful, Wendy, or I'm going to have to sue you for touching my thigh again," he quips, appearing more amused than angry by the disruption.

"Sorry!" Wendy chimes, quickly rushing out an apology, "The door got stuck. I had to climb over it to get out. Tweek helped me."

Wendy freezes, feeling a dark shadow washing over them as her boyfriend steps into the room to investigate the commotion. "Craig, what the fuck?" Stan blares, narrowing his eyes at his rival, "Get the hell off my girlfriend!"

"Well, as you can see from our position, what you're asking of me is borderline impossible," Craig replies, still as deadpan and unfazed as ever.

Getting the hint, Wendy quickly jumps off him and stands by Stan's side. "Stan, don't be upset," she pleads, "This is all just a big misunderstanding."

"Oh," Stan huffs, "so I didn't just see you sprawled out on top of the biggest dick in the city?!"

"Wow, Stan. What an insult," Craig states, standing up and brushing himself off, "Did it take you all day to come up with it?"

Stan glares at him, "I can't believe you would try to make moves on Wendy! Do you honestly have no soul at all?"

"Yes," Craig replies, "but I didn't 'make moves' on your girlfriend. She just happened to fall on top of me while I was walking over here."

"Sure," Stan says, his voice laced with disbelief as he faces him with his arms crossed, "And why should I believe a stupid thing like that?"

"Because I'm gay! I'm not interested in any girl," Craig counters, finally showing some emotion, "Do I need to suck my boyfriend's dick to prove it?"

Tweek awkwardly knocks on the shower door. "Uh…can someone please open the door? I'm still stuck in here," he states, hoping to ease the enraged confrontation.

"You are on thin ice, Craig," Stan warns, narrowing his eyes as he aggressively points at him, "I'm going to fuckin' wreck you."

"Ooh, I'm so scared. What are you going to do? Show me your Littlest Pet Shop collection?" Craig states with an eye roll, before swinging the shower door open, "Maybe you should trust your damn girlfriend!" he steps in, his anger melting when he locks eyes with his boyfriend, "Oh, hey babe, what are you doing in here?" Craig asks in a surprisingly cheery tone.

"Wait! Don't shut the-aww, forget it!" Tweek cries, caving halfway through the motion. Craig shuts the door, slamming it closed in Stan's face as he stands there fuming.

Stan sighs heavily as he turns to Wendy, who is anxiously playing with her hands while she stares at the floor. "Stay away from them, Wendy. They are nothing but trouble," he states, trying to ignore the thumping coming from the shower.

Wendy stares down at the floor and nervously bites her lip, conflicted, as Stan storms off.

…

An hour later, Tweek groans as Craig pins him down on the floor of the living room, the latter holding him down by the wrists. Tweek smiles and gazes up at him, using his best acting skills to look impressed by it. "Wow, Craig. You really are stronger than me."

Craig cocks his eyebrow, "You're not trying, are you?"

Tweek turns to the side, blushing lightly, "That fact seems irrelevant," he states in a small voice.

"I don't see how-"

Tweek grabs Craig and swiftly pulls him down towards him. Tweek leans forward and starts peppering kisses on his boyfriend's neck.

"Jesus Christ, Tweek…" Craig moans, slipping his arms around Tweek's waist and pulling the blonde inward.

Cartman stops suddenly on his way to the kitchen, eyeing the couple that is sprawled out on the carpet. "Oh sure, you gays will mess around on national television, but when I wanted to exploit your relationship for money, you both punched me. Unbelievable…" he grumbles, before sulking over to the refrigerator, Craig flashing him the bird as he departs.

"You know," Craig smirks, gazing down at Tweek, "if you don't let me go right now, babe, I'm going to tell everyone about your secret crush on me."

Tweek narrows his eyes, playfully cocking his forehead, "You wouldn't dare."

Clyde sighs as he walks by, rolling his eyes at the pair. "Oh my God, you guys are so coupley, it's nauseating," he complains, before passing by Bebe in the hallway.

…

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

Clyde's been super snippy ever since I rejected him yesterday, especially towards the couples in the house. If he's trying to make me feel bad about turning him down, he's not doing a very good job.

…

Clyde walks by Stan and Wendy, who are kissing in the hallway, the latter trying to calm her boyfriend down after his confrontation with Craig earlier. Clyde stops in his tracks and huffs at the couple, "Sure, you love him now, but just wait a week, Wendy," he mutters.

Wendy pulls away from Stan and flashes Clyde a puzzled gaze, the couple still holding onto each other. Stan sweatdrops.

…

Butters Stotch
Southern Belle

Token told us all to go to the living room shortly, so I guess it's time for the talent show. I'm real nervous, but the girls believe in me, so I really think this time will be different. It has to be…right?

…

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to the first ever Big Brother talent show!" Token announces to the houseguests, half of whom are nervous and half of whom are bored out of their minds. Five of the houseguests – Tweek, Craig, Kyle, Stan, and Cartman – are sitting on a lone sofa facing a single television set that is displaying the Big Brother logo while the other four – Bebe, Wendy, Clyde, and Butters – are standing behind them, the living room looking quite clean after Token hired staff to tidy up after Tweek's earlier tornado incident. "One by one, each of you will go up and perform your talent for the other housemates. At the end of the competition, you will cast your votes on slips of paper for a winner, keeping in mind that you can't vote for yourself," Token claims, "I'll then tally up the results and whoever receives the most votes wins this week's HOH. Bebe," Token begins, narrowing in on the blonde girl, "since you won HOH last week, you are ineligible to compete this week, but I'll still let you vote for your favorite act," Bebe nods, "Remember, you each get five minutes for your acts, so try to make it good. And as always, technology is not permitted, but I will let you guys use a boombox for any music-related talents."

"Thank you, Token," Stan says from his seat next to Kyle.

"No problem, Stan," Token replies.

"Really? Now you're giving us a boombox?" Craig sarcastically outbursts, "Where were you yesterday when Clyde was wrecking our song?"

"What you call 'wrecking', I call 'artistic talent'," Clyde remarks next to him.

Craig scrunches his eyebrows, "So you artistic talented our song?" he questions.

Clyde smiles smugly and nods, "Exactly."

Token stands in silence for a moment before he awkwardly clears his throat. "Anyway, without further ado, let The 1st Annual Big Brother Talent Show begin! Clyde, you're up first, buddy."

"Alright," Clyde chimes, rubbing his hands together as he moseys on over to the small table that is situated in front of the TV, the surface covered in tacos, "Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to witness the most amazing thing never before seen by man!" Clyde announces, bending over and picking up a single taco, "I, Clyde Donovan, will now eat twenty tacos in under five minutes!"

"That's not a talent; that's just disgusting," Craig complains, arms crossed on the sofa as he sits beside Tweek.

Clyde rolls his eyes, "Well, sorry not everyone can be as talented as you, Craig! I saw what you guys did to the shower."

"Gah!" Tweek cries, hiding his face in his hands as he blushes furiously.

"Hey, that picture of Stripe was pretty good," Craig defends.

Five disturbing minutes later, Clyde smiles as he finishes the last of the tacos, only throwing up three times during the process. He bows triumphantly, getting a few pity claps from a scattered few who are just happy that the nauseating display is over.

Stan then stands up and does his dance-off routine to the song "Achy, Breaky Heart" in front of the boombox.

"Whoo! Go Stan!" Kyle cheers, the redhead the only one positively engaged by the act.

"Yeesh," Craig mutters, "And I thought Clyde's talent was the worst thing in existence, but clearly I was wrong."

"Aww…" Clyde coos from behind him, shedding a happy tear at Craig's comment, "I love you too, Craig."

"That wasn't a compliment."

Clyde crosses his arms and huffs. "Well then would it kill you to give me one for once?"

"Most likely," Stan smugly states from the stage.

"Okay, Craig, you're up next," Token announces over the loudspeaker once Stan has returned to his seat on the sofa between Kyle and Cartman.

Craig rolls his eyes up at the ceiling, "Pass."

Token sighs, "You can't pass, Craig. You have to actually perform something for the group."

"Fine," Craig huffs, heaving himself out of his seat and stomping over to the front of the room. He turns and faces his housemates, lifting both of his middle fingers up towards the ceiling. "Fuck you," he says flatly, before quickly taking his seat back next to his boyfriend.

"You know, it pains me to say this," Stan mumbles, "but that's probably the best act I've seen so far."

A few minutes later, Kyle is standing on the pseudo stage in front of his friends and peers, smiling warmly. "For my talent, I'm going to spell whatever words you guys throw at me," he states, eagerly rubbing his hands together, "So, does anyone have a suggestion?"

"Asshole Dick Fart?" Cartman shouts from the sofa, struggling to contain his laughter from behind his knuckles.

Kyle narrows his eyes at him, "Ookay…any other suggestions?"

"Kelly Rutherford Menskin?" Cartman chokes out through a laughing fit.

Kyle clenches his fists, "Oh, that's it!" he roars, lunging at Cartman. Kyle punches him once before Cartman starts sobbing and crying for his mother.

Wendy nervously shuffles to the stage, hugging a stack of notecards to her chest as she stops in front of the big screen television. She clears her throat, "Greetings, everyone. Today I would like to talk to all of you about the importance of recycling."

"Oh boy, here we go!" Cartman shouts from the crowd with an eye roll.

"What?!" Wendy shrieks, unable to believe the audacity of the fatass.

"Boo, Wendy Testaburger, Boo! Get off the stage!"

"Are you kidding me?!" Wendy yells, firmly perching her hands on her hips, "Do you not care about the importance of recycling? If everyone simply did their part, we'd save millions of trees!"

"Uh…I don't think he cares, Wendy," Stan awkwardly states from the sofa.

One gigantic fight later, after Cartman booed Wendy fifteen more times before she stomped off the stage, Cartman himself is standing front and center in front of his housemates, two of whom – Butters and Clyde – are lying on the carpet in front of him, a bright yellow cape fastened around Cartman's neck as he gazes out at the crowd.

"Friends, Wendy Testaburger, and Kiel," Cartman mutters under his breath. Kyle glares at him, "I, the great Eric Cartman, master of all things totally awesome, will now jump over this pair of losers using only a skateboard!" he exclaims, gesturing down at Butters and Clyde before taking his place at the end of the ramp.

Stan cocks his forehead, "Why did you want to see this, Kyle?"

"I don't want to see this!" Kyle cries.

Everyone watches as Cartman takes a running start and jumps on his skateboard. It splits in two.

"BWAHAHAHA!" Kyle laughs from the sofa.

Cartman's face reddens. "Hang on, I'm not ready yet. I still have another board!" Cartman shouts, holding up his second skateboard and setting it in the proper position. He races forward and carefully steps on, cruising in from the kitchen at record speed. He reaches the ramp and flies into the air, jumping over Butters and Clyde before safely landing on the opposite ramp.

"Holy shit," Stan states, his shocked expression matching all the other spectators.

"Yeah! Go, Eric!" Butters cheers, completely oblivious to the fact that he could've been flattened into a pancake if he missed.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Cartman proclaims, blowing kisses to the crowd, "I would like to thank Orville and Redenbacher for inventing the power of flight!"

"Alright, Tweek, you're up," Token voices over the loudspeaker, causing the blonde to shriek and nervously make his way to the front of the stage.

"Hi, everyone," Tweek greets, death-gripping onto his pot of coffee, "For my talent, I will now down this two-liter pot of coffee in less than thirty seconds," he states, holding the pot up to the group.

Craig smiles from the audience, "Looks good, babe."

"That's basically what I did!" Clyde blares, Craig's praise hitting his last nerve as he stands behind him, "Where's my applause?"

"Well, maybe if you did something impressive, you would actually get some," Craig quips, as deadpan as ever.

"Oh, I see," Clyde begins, pacing over to him, "it's cute when your boyfriend does it but disgusting when it's me!" he roars, completely unaware of the uncomfortable looks everyone is sporting around them.

Craig shrugs, "Yeah, pretty much."

"You know, I'm getting sick and tired of playing second fiddle to someone who can't even button their shirt correctly!" he shouts, gesturing to Tweek, who is standing meekly nearby, cradling the pot of coffee in his arms, "-It's time to choose: Tweek or me."

Craig lifts his head up, matching Clyde's eyeline for the first time that argument. "Tweek," he states firmly, never sounding surer of something in his life, "Now calm down, you're triggering his anxiety."

Clyde growls, his face resembling a boiling teapot more than a human being. He points a finger in the stoic's face, "FUCK YOU, CRAIG!" he yells, his volume causing several of the housemates to cringe, "TWEEK COULD PROBABLY SHIT ON THE FLOOR AND YOU WOULD CALL IT CHOCOLATE!" Clyde declares, before storming off.

The room is silent.

"Yeesh. You guys have issues," Cartman mutters, for once thankful that the arguments in his group never scarred him emotionally.

Tweek sits back down on the sofa, suddenly feeling too drained to perform his talent. He scoots closer to Craig, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Clyde seems genuinely upset," he states to his stewing boyfriend, "Maybe you should talk to him."

Craig shakes his head, still fuming as his arms remain tightly crossed against his torso, "No, I am not missing the rest of this shitshow," he tells him, "He's the one in the wrong here. So what if he got rejected by Bebe? It happens all the time. That doesn't give him the right to take it out on everyone."

Tweek sighs, "I don't think this is about Bebe, Craig."

"Yeah, well, he pissed me off," he huffs.

"Well, that was certainly…interesting," Token speaks up from the loudspeaker, "Since Tweek has chosen to withdrawal from the competition by not completing his talent, that means Butters is up," he announces, "Butters, you're the finale, so once you finish your act, everyone will vote for a winner. Are you ready?"

Butters gulps from his position behind the sofa, "I-I think so," he states, feeling the tenseness of the surrounding crowd.

"Great! You can head to the stage now," Token informs the shivering blonde.

Butters nods and looks to Wendy and Bebe, who are both flashing him encouraging thumbs up. He walks to the front of the room and presses the play button on the boombox. His signature song starts to blare through the loudspeaker as Butters starts dancing like Charlie Brown.

"Loo loo loo, I've got some apples. Loo loo loo, you've got some too," Butters sings.

"Butters, you're making it very hard for me not to hate you with every inch of my body right now…" Cartman mutters, clenching his fists as he glares at his human guinea pig.

"Alright, fellas," Butters chimes, hitting the next button on the boombox, "It's time for the edgy, rap remix!"

Everyone minus the girls and Tweek groans, causing the blonde to nudge his boyfriend playfully in the side. "Come on Craig, we gotta hear that!" he beams, his mood instantly shifting when Clyde reenters the room.

The brunette stomps over to the sofa and stops on the left side of it, in front of Tweek and Craig. Clyde glares down at the noirette, his packed bag slung hastily over his shoulder. Butters is still performing his act to the others, but everyone has already opted out to watch this train wreck instead. "Hello, Craig. I just came over here to tell you that I don't care about you anymore," Clyde huffs, Craig not even acknowledging his existence, "In fact, I'm going to leave Craig and those guys and start my own group with Kevin Stoley and Jason – oh wait, he's dead," he quickly realizes, his face falling slightly, "And that kid who never talks!" Clyde declares with gusto.

"Douglas?" Token suggests above him.

"Yeah, him!" Clyde cries, raising his finger in point, "I'm going to call it Clyde and the cool guys, and I'm going to teach them all about how selfish and rude you are. And how you're a big asswipe! Then we're going to have a turf war, and you'll be stuck with Token and Jimmy and Tweek, who isn't even an official member," Clyde sasses, narrowing his eyes at Craig as he crosses his arms over his torso. Craig continues to stare straight ahead, blatantly ignoring him, but unbeknownst to him, Tweek is paying attention to every word. Tweek's face softens at the comment, appearing quite hurt by it. "Yeah, I said it! – And then you'll be sorry!" Clyde claims, heaving a huge sigh from his rant, "Face it, you're not my friend anymore, Craig, and nothing is going to change that!"

Craig nudges Clyde over with his leg, barely registering a word he's saying. "Yeah, that's great," he says flatly, not bothering to move his upper half, "Can you move over a bit? I'm trying to watch this, so I can make sarcastic comments about it later."

Butters continues dancing onstage, trying to smile enthusiastically through his nerves as all eyes are immediately shifted back to him. He throws his arms up and kicks his foot into the air as he reaches the grand finale. The crowd watches in slow motion as Butters accidentally kicks one of his tap shoes clean off. The shoe spins three times before striking the chandelier that is hanging above Tweek and Clyde. The chain supporting the gigantic ceiling decoration loosens and slides down. Craig looks up, seeing the fixture losing its support above them.

"CLYDE!" Bebe cries out moments before Craig simultaneously pushes Clyde out of the way with his right foot and rolls Tweek on top of his own body, saving them both.

Clyde falls to the floor with a loud 'oomf!', the chandelier crashing square in the space between where both he and Tweek were originally residing, the impact of the crash causing dust clouds to fog the area around the housemates.

After a few frightening moments of silence, Kyle slowly lifts his head up, the dust clouds starting to settle around him. He squints his eyes and coughs a few times, waiting patiently for his coughing fit to subside before turning to the others, "Is everyone alive?"

"Kiel?" a familiar fat boy's voice rings nearby, "Is that you?"

"Yes."

"Goddammit," Cartman curses. Shuffling is heard in the dust clouds, "-Oww, Kahl! That's my arm!" he whines, rubbing the spot where Kyle punched him.

"Bebe? Bebe! Where are you?" Wendy's voice calls out from behind the sofa.

"Wendy, calm down. I'm right next to you! I'm holding your arm," Bebe assures her.

"Oh," Wendy blinks, "Hi."

A large sigh is heard from the front of the room, "Gee, fellas, I'm sorry. I really thought it was going to go better this time," Butters states, quickly grabbing onto the leg of the sofa.

"God, Token. You just had to have a giant chandelier in here. You just had to flaunt your wealth to show off your black privilege!" Cartman sarcastically spews at the ceiling, his arms folded.

"Uh…guys?" Stan speaks up from his place between tweedle dee and tweedle dumber, purposeless ignoring Cartman's ignorant comment, "I'm concerned that we haven't heard from the other side of the room yet. You know, the side the chandelier actually fell on."

"Stan's right, yew guys. I haven't heard any screaming or crying, so it's official. I'm calling it: Clyde and Tweek are dead. Craig's status has yet to be determined," Cartman says, a strange sense of pride in his tone.

"That's a grim observation, Cartman," Kyle mutters.

"Hey. Hey, yew guys! I just thought of something," Cartman replies, bouncing excitedly in his seat, "If a Clyde cries in the forest and no one's around to care, can you still hear it?"

"Shut-up, fatass!"

The dust clouds settle around them. Clyde groans as he lifts his head up from the floor, his head throbbing after he faceplanted onto the carpet. He sits up slowly, rubbing his aching forehead a few times before facing the scene in front of him. Clyde's eyes widen when he spies the broken chandelier two-feet away from him, the glass shards mere inches from his body. "Holy shit," Clyde mutters, staring down at the destruction in shock before lifting his gaze to his friends on the sofa.

Tweek and Craig are holding onto each other, the latter clutching his boyfriend protectively to his chest, his hand on top of Tweek's head as the blonde continues bracing for impact. Tweek hugs Craig tighter, the couple still clinging on for dear life even moments after the fixture fell.

Tweek looks up, his body shivering as he locks eyes with Craig, who is slowly coming to. "Honey, are you okay?" Craig grunts, the right side of his body feeling like it's on fire.

"I think so," Tweek whispers, carefully resting his hand on Craig's leg. Craig grimaces, causing Tweek to promptly look down at where he touched him. Tweek gasps. "Craig, you're hurt!" he cries, instantly springing off him, a trail of blood running down Craig's right pant leg.

"No, babe, I'm fine. Really," Craig tries to stand up with him but winces when he puts pressure on his leg. He immediately plops back down on the sofa, "On second thought, I'm just going to lay here on the sofa."

"Alright. Let's get medical on the scene now," Token's voice blares over the loudspeaker, all attention on the trio as Clyde tears up from the floor.

"Aww…Craig," Clyde sniffs, "You do love me!" He races forward and tries to hug him, but Tweek gently holds the brunette back while the medical staff runs to the emergency.

"Um, maybe not now, Clyde."

Thirty seconds later, Tweek and Clyde are bawling their eyes out while Craig is being attended to. The Boys watch as the pair cling onto each other a few feet away from them, sobbing over their injured leader.

"Yeesh," Stan mutters, "Who knew Craig was really the glue that held things together for them?"

Kyle nods, standing dumbfounded next to him while they safely watch the scene from beside the other end of the sofa, "Well, the group is called Craig and those guys. Without him, I guess they're bound to suffer through an identity crisis."

Nearby, Wendy is comfortingly rubbing Tweek's shoulder while he cries over his boyfriend's condition. "Babe, calm down," Craig states from the floor, "It's going to be alright."

"I know," Clyde sniffs, popping into Craig's eyeline, "I just love you so much!" he cries, before unleashing a rainforest of snot into his tissue.

"Well," Craig sighs while getting his leg bandaged up, after the doctor on the scene confirmed that he has nothing more than excessive bruising on the right side of his right leg that should heal up in a month or two, "I can honestly say that this was the worst talent show I've ever seen."

"To be fair though, did you come to this conclusion before or after you injured your leg?" Kyle wonders.

"Before and after," Craig confirms, using his hand as a visor to block out the stage lights, "This thing was like watching fifteen Rob Schneider movies back to back," Craig stops and winces as the nurse tightens his bandages up. He throws his head back slightly, staring up at the ceiling. "Oh, what did I do to deserve this?"

Stan and Kyle exchange glances, wanting to say a snide remark but both knowing it's a bad idea if they don't want to end up needing medical assistance shortly afterwards. "I can't think of anything," Stan responds, "Can you think of anything, Kyle?"

"Nope. Not a thing," Kyle snappily replies, awkwardly leaning back on his heels as he does so.

Butters pops his head up from behind the sofa, "What about when you ripped Kenny's leg off?" he smiles while the medical staff packs up their things.

Upon seeing the blonde, Craig growls and lunges. Tweek swiftly races forward and grabs Craig by the waist, securely holding him back in a backwards hug. Tweek gives a meek smile as he tries his best to keep Craig from tearing Butters's face off. "Okay, okay. Let's just relax and calm down," Tweek soothingly states, straining to keep Craig under control.

"Yeah…there's no way your boyfriend's going to calm down, dude," Stan speaks up as Wendy joins him next to the sofa.

"He's calm," Tweek states, pulling him back a bit, "Right, Craig?"

Craig lunges forward once more, attempting to squirm free and attack Butters. He gives an animalistic growl and starts foaming at the mouth.

Butters smiles and takes a step forward, giving Craig a cautious wave.

"Hoh! Hoh! Hoh!" Craig barks as the dancer goes near him and Tweek, causing Butters to immediately widen his eyes and duck in terror behind the ottoman. Tweek gives a nervous laugh.

"Well, with all the insanity that's happened today, I think it's only fair that I give everyone sufficient time to regroup and cast their votes for the winner of The 1st Annual Big Brother Talent Show," Token announces, before releasing a rather heavy sigh of his own.

"No offense, but is anyone even thinking of that now?" Kyle asks, "Two people almost died, and Craig got severely injured."

"Please, Kahl!" Cartman states with an eye roll, "You're only saying that because you know you aren't going to win!" he huffs, his arms crossed sassily over his torso.

"Cartman, it's times like these where people realize there's more important things in life than winning," Kyle notes.

"Pfft! That sounds like typical loser talk," Cartman remarks, "Just admit you have no chance and leave it at that!"

Fifty minutes later, the crowd has regrouped in the living room, considerably less tense than before as they await the voting results. "Alright, everyone," Token's voice chimes enthusiastically over the loudspeaker, "it's time for the moment you've all been waiting for!"

"We're getting tested for lice?" Clyde guesses, anxiously scratching his scalp.

"Nope," Token responds.

"We're killing Kiel?" Cartman perks up, causing the redhead to shoot him a glare.

"No," Token sighs, growing more impatient with each interruption, "We've tallied up all the votes and it's now time to announce the winner of the talent show! I wish I could say it was close, but one of you really knocked this competition out of the park."

"Eww…baseball references," Stan shudders.

"The winner of The 1st Annual Big Brother Talent Show is…Eric Cartman…somehow," Token states, muttering the last word under his breath.

Everyone's stomachs – minus Cartman's – drop at this announcement as Cartman cheers and races over to take the key to the HOH suite from a reluctant Bebe. He snatches it from her before hobbling towards the kickass room, stopping in front of Kyle on the way to gloat his victory.

"You have got to be kidding me…" Kyle states, staring at the floor, looking like his is going to shit his pants and pass out in his own excrement at any moment.

"Well Kiel, I'm sorry if my act was more impressive than you and your butt buddy's. Oh, wait. No, I'm not!" he boasts, before breaking into a rather-lengthy and elaborate victory dance, his fellow housemates staring at him dumbfounded.

Stan Marsh
The Normal One

The moment Cartman won HOH, we could just feel this dark cloud hover over the house. The next twenty-four hours until nominations are going to be absolutely terrifying.

Chapter Text

Kyle Broflovski
Intellectual Know-it-all

Well, Cartman won HOH, so it doesn't take a genius to see that he's probably going to put me up. At this point, it's not even a matter of if but when he does so. The real question here is: can I do enough damage control to get myself out of this mess?

…

Everyone continues to watch in horror as Cartman finishes his victory dance with a classic disco pose before he waddles over to the HOH room. Stan and Kyle attempt to follow him, but Cartman abruptly turns in the doorway, cutting off their path with a wave of his finger. "Yeah, I don't think so," he shoos, pointing his two pointer fingers at them, "You nyah, me nyah!" he announces, gesturing them in the opposite direction.

"But Cartman-" Stan speaks up. Cartman slams the door in his face.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

Tweek has been feeling a little paranoid ever since Cartman won the talent show. And frankly, no one blames him. I mean Cartman winning HOH, along with the whole almost dying fiasco, would make anyone have a panic attack.

…

Tweek is cowering under the dining room table, tugging at his hair ten minutes after Cartman was announced as the newest HOH. Craig is crouched down beside Tweek, doing his best to ease his boyfriend's anxiety. "It's the cameras, Craig. They're out to get me!" Tweek claims, tugging at his golden locks some more, "First they wanted my privacy, next they'll want my blood!" he shivers.

"Babe, the cameras are not trying to kill you," Craig states, as flat as ever, "And if they were, I would just punch through them with my fists."

"Yeah, babe. Don't worry about it," Clyde chimes in, popping up between the couple and throwing an arm around each of them, "I'll protect you."

Craig glares at him, "Clyde, how many times do I have to tell you, you are not a part of this relationship?"

Clyde huffs and crosses his arms, "Well if I was, we'd cuddle more!" he sasses, turning away from Craig.

Fifteen minutes later, after Craig successfully talked Tweek out from under the table, Clyde corners him in the hallway, his face shining in sincerity. "Hey, Craig. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Craig stops in his tracks, unsure if he should bolt or hear him out after Clyde cussed him out earlier. "Um…okay."

Clyde walks over to him, stopping a few feet short of his best friend. "I just-I feel really bad about what happened at the talent show. We were both upset and we both said some things that we didn't mean before you saved me, and I just want to make it up to you."

"Please don't tell me you're going to sing another song," Craig grumbles, rolling his eyes.

"I won't. I promise," Clyde replies, "But I just wanted to tell you, from here on out, you have my loyalty, and I will vote however you want me to for the rest of this game."

Craig locks eyes with his friend and sighs, "Clyde, I didn't save you just to get your vote. Your offer is nice, but I wouldn't feel comfortable accepting it," he states, patting him once on the bicep before taking off down the hall.

"Goddammit, Craig," Clyde curses under his breath, "Why do you always have to be so noble?"

…

"I'm telling you, Bebe. Cartman is going to come after us. I just know it," Wendy distresses as she sits on her bed in the girls room. Bebe is sitting across from her, delicately painting her nails, a pile of tissues resting on the sheets below them.

Bebe cocks her forehead while she carefully paints her ring finger a light periwinkle, "Do you really think he'd be evil enough to put two best friends up against each other?"

"Yes! That sounds exactly like something Cartman would do. He might even put Tweek and Craig on the block to watch the world burn!" Wendy cries, doing her best to calm her hysterics, "This is bad, Bebe, this is really bad. He might've screwed our entire game with this win."

"Look Wendy, all we have to do is just hope that Cartman doesn't put us up against each other. As long as he doesn't do that, we're fine," Bebe attempts to assure her.

Wendy looks up at her best friend and sighs, "God, I sure hope you're right."

…

Later that night, Craig is walking down the hallway, limping slightly due to his injured leg. Craig stops when he spies a familiar brunette lying down on the carpet, moaning at the ceiling, his hand perched dramatically over his forehead. Craig walks over and stares down at his friend, raising his eyebrow at the absurd discovery.

"Ooh…why did she dump me?" Clyde moans.

"Because she has good taste?" Craig quips with a smirk.

Clyde snaps his hand off his forehead and glares at him. "You know, you don't need to make me feel better, Craig."

Craig shrugs. "Okay," he replies, instantly turning to leave.

"Wait! Don't go!" Clyde cries, extending his arm out to him.

Craig sighs and sits down next to Clyde, tapping his fingers against his unbruised kneecap. "I'm not your therapist, you know."

"I know," Clyde states with a sniff, "I just-really need someone to cheer me up right now," he confesses, placing his hand back over his face with a groan. "So, what's up with you? Is your leg feeling better?"

Craig teeters his shoulders, "To be honest, it didn't hurt that much in the first place."

Clyde nose laughs, "Come on, man, you were bleeding. It's obvious it must've hurt like a bitch."

"Fine, it did, but it was better than going to you and Tweek's funerals," he counters.

"Is Tweek good in bed?" Clyde jumps in, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Yes," Craig answers, not skipping a beat.

Clyde sniffs, his tone a happy squeak, "I knew it."

…

An hour later, after yet another failed attempt at wooing Bebe, Clyde groans as he trudges into the girls room and over to Craig and Tweek's bed. He flops face-first onto the mattress between them, startling the couple who is currently laying on it. Clyde groans into the bed causing the pair to sit up and stare strangely down at him. "I can't believe it. I can't believe she dumped me," Clyde moans, grateful for the girls' current absence, "just because David's hot and he knows how to ride a bicycle!"

Craig locks eyes with his boyfriend before turning back to Clyde and cocking his forehead, "You don't know how to ride a bicycle?" he asks, "But weren't you in the bike parade-" Clyde jolts forward, quickly covers Craig's mouth with his hand, and shushes him. Craig slaps his hand away, "Cover my mouth again, and you'll lose a limb," he threatens.

"You know what, Craig? This isn't about me. This is about David – who is the 'perfect man'."

Craig shrugs, "Well, he is attractive…and smart…and a good person," he lists off, Tweek nodding in agreement at each additional compliment.

Clyde turns to the couple and glares, "You know, you guys really aren't helping."

"We never said we would," Craig smirks.

Clyde sighs, "I just wish I knew what Bebe wanted."

"Probably a restraining order," Craig quips, "But seriously, maybe you should just accept that you guys are done for good. Cut your losses and find someone new to go after."

Clyde stares down at the mattress and exhales, "I wish it was that simple, but this kind of thing doesn't come easy to me. It usually takes years for me to realize I like someone, then even longer for me to actually do something about it," Clyde pauses and sighs, "Maybe I should just wait for Cupid Me to force me into a relationship."

Craig tilts his forehead, "Who the hell is Cupid Me?"

"Oh, right. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone else about that," Clyde says, quickly shaking his head at the slip up, "Uh, no one. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to wallow in my own loneliness."

"Please don't," Craig mutters, watching as Clyde stands up from the bed and paces over to his own.

"Too late!" Clyde chimes, pulling up the covers and burrowing into them. "WHY? WHY DOESN'T SHE LOVE ME?!" he laments, before bursting into a sob. The couple stares curiously at him from the mattress.

"Ugh. Single people," Craig shrugs, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

…

Early the next morning, Kyle sighs as he stands in front of the closed HOH room door, doing his best to collect all his courage before he addresses the beast. Kyle takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, peeking his head in when the fatass grants him entrance. "You wanted to see me?" Kyle asks, his voice rivaling Craig's monotone.

"Yes, Kiel. Come in. Take a seat," Cartman instructs, gesturing towards an open chair before turning away from the door, his hands clasped behind his back as he stares up at the portrait of himself that he hung on the wall, "I'm going to cut right to the chase here, Kahl," Cartman begins as soon as Kyle's butt hits the lounge chair, "As you know, I have a lot of power this week – and rightfully so."

"Uh-huh," Kyle replies, skepticism lacing his tone.

"So, I'm going to make you a little deal, Kiel," Cartman states, pausing to bask in the sweetness of this moment, "I won't put you up for nomination this week if you suck my balls."

Kyle leans back in his seat, unable to believe what he is hearing. "Dude, no way. I'd rather you put me up twice."

"Aye! You watch your mouth, you filthy Jew!" Cartman yells, his face turning red with rage, "Your fate in this game is in my hands!"

Kyle places his palms on the arms of the chair, using them to push himself out of the seat, "Actually, Cartman, it's in every else's hands because they're the ones who vote," he reminds him.

"You better do what I say, Kahl, or I'll put you up against Stan! Don't think I won't try to separate you from your butt buddy!"

"Fuck you, fatass!" Kyle shouts, pausing in the doorway to pretend to think this over for a second, "Oh, that's right. I won't," he wisecracks, swinging open the door.

Cartman growls, clenches his fist, and stomps his foot. "Whatever! I'll do what I want!" he cries with a snap of his fingers and a sway of his hips. "Besides, we both know you're only doing this little game to try to impress your ex!" he screams, Kyle stopping in his tracks when he hears this accusation, his back still to him, "What was their name? Dingus? Dorkwad?" Cartman guesses.

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman," Kyle hisses through his teeth as he turns to face his tormentor, "That is not true."

"Oh really?" Cartman coos, crossing his arms smugly over his torso, "Cause your face says otherwise."

Kyle's cheeks redden, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, "Fuck you, dude," Kyle retorts, storming off before Cartman can take another stab at his heart.

…

Later that morning, Cartman is sitting in his kickass HOH bedroom with one of the only people in the house that he doesn't find utterly reprehensible. "So, Stan," Cartman begins, staring across the room at his group's leader, who is sitting in the lounge chair where Kyle once sat, "What are your thoughts on the nominations?"

"Really?" Stan squeaks.

"Yeah. I do respect you somewhat," Cartman confesses, "Well, more than most of those other idiots, anyway," he adds, waving them off with his hand.

"Well, if I was HOH, I would target Craig," Stan says, not having to give this too much thought, "He has at least three votes – the dude is pretty powerful."

Cartman laughs, the fatass's reaction puzzling Stan to his core. "Everyone has a weakness, Stan," Cartman clarifies, "Craig's is quite obvious."

"You mean Tweek?"

"Exactly," Cartman nods.

"So, if we really want to weaken Craig, we gotta nominate his boyfriend?" Stan concludes.

"Are you kidding?" Cartman cries, his eyes wide in terror, "If we tried to go after Tweek, Craig would probably sweep the rest of the competition in blind rage. No, if we want to get Craig out, we'd have to target him directly. He's a slippery one," Cartman states, rubbing his double chin ponderously, "But, if we get rid of Craig first, the spaz will crumble. Maybe even enough to get him escorted out of here. It's a 2-for-1 deal, really."

"Wow," Stan replies, both impressed and terrified of Cartman's abilities, "You are pure evil."

"Thank you, Stan," Cartman beams from his queen-sized mattress, "I try my best, you know."

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

Nominations are in a few hours and unsurprisingly, I'm not as scared about them as the other housemates are. That's because I have a plan. I know Stan is trying to get Cartman to put me or Tweek up, so all I have to do is throw someone else under the bus. Cartman is so full of himself, he'll believe whatever shit I tell him if he thinks someone's trying to undermine his authority. Of course I can't go after Stan cause Cartman would immediately suspect that I overheard what they were saying in the HOH room, so I'm going to have to pick a different target. And as soon as Butters' shoe hit that chandelier, his time in the house was over.

You know, I always thought I'd never care enough about this game to play it properly, but then again, I always thought I was straight, too, and we all know how that turned out. (smiles at the camera)

…

Craig whistles as he nonchalantly moseys over to the HOH room, constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure no one is following him. Once Craig deems the coast clear, he goes over and knocks on the grand HOH door. He hears shuffling inside as an irritated Cartman hobbles over to the door and swings it open.

"Ah, I knew you'd come crawling back, Kiel!" Cartman beams, his face falling when he sees Craig standing on the other side of the open door. Craig cocks an eyebrow. "Oh, it's just you, Craig," Cartman states, disappointment apparent in his tone as he sports the classic satin HOH robe, "What do you want? Trying to save your little boyfriend again to get more of that sweet, sweet hero sex?" he teases.

"Nope. I just have a juicy piece of information that I thought might interest you," Craig casually replies, his flat tone making it hard to know if he is telling the truth or not, "but I guess you don't care about what Butters said about your authority…"

"What?" Cartman snaps, immediately taking the bait, "What did he say about my authoritah?"

"He said that he doesn't respect it," Craig confirms.

"WHAT?! I'll show him!" Cartman rages, stepping towards the living room.

Craig quickly gets in front of him, stopping Cartman in his tracks. "Wait. You can't confront him now. He'll just deny it," Craig states, trying to make his argument sound as sensible to Cartman as possible, "The best thing you can do is campaign against him behind his back and make him cry like a little girl."

"You're right, Craig," Cartman states, holding his finger up to the heavens in response, "I'm going to hit him right where it hurts and, like a ninja, he will never see me coming!" he declares, before walking back into the HOH room. He stops suddenly, popping his head back out the door to further elaborate, "But, unlike what Kiel said, I don't think ninjas are gay."

Craig raises an eyebrow as Cartman quickly slams the door behind him. Craig stands there in silence.

"Wow. It's so easy, it's not even funny," he states, his stoic expression not leaving his face. "God, he's such a dumbass," he mutters, as he walks away.

…

A few hours later, Cartman smiles as he sashays over to the dining table, meeting his group of fellow housemates. Most of his peers are so on edge that they don't even look up when he arrives at the head of the table. "Alright, everyone. It's time for the moment we've all been waiting for. It's time for me, as the grand and glorious HOH, to announce my nominations for Week 2 of the competition," Cartman says, stating the last part like he is reading off a cue card, "Now perhaps you're sitting here at the table with your orange coat and your little green hat thinking, 'I won't get nominated cause I have two bags of Jew gold', but whoever you are, you're wrong cause I stole them both while you were sleeping," Cartman smirks, proudly holding the bags up in his hand. Kyle glares at him as he continues rubbing salt in the wound, "As you should know, I take absolutely no pleasure in being in this position of supreme power and having to nominate someone, so with that being said, everyone turn and watch Kiel's face as I announce his nomination," Cartman gestures to the camera and points at the redhead, "Can we zoom in on that?" One of the cameras does so, causing Kyle to flash him a look of irritation, "-Oh, yeah. That's a great headshot. Just focus on that despair..." Cartman drools, everyone raising an eyebrow at his questionable reaction.

Kyle glares and rolls his eyes, "Just get on with it, fatass!"

"Patience, Kahl, I'm the executioner here, and what I say goes," Cartman commands, shoving a finger in Kyle's face, "So, as I was saying, this week I nominate Kiel and Kahl."

"Uh…you can't do that, Cartman. It's against the rules," Token's voice rings out over the loudspeakers.

Cartman huffs and crosses his forearms, "I'm HOH. I make the rules!"

"And as HOH, you're supposed to place two unique housemates up for nomination. Those are the official rules of Big Brother," Token tells him.

Cartman sighs and rolls his eyes at the ceiling, "Fine!" he caves, "Then I nominate Kiel and Butters," Cartman announces, most of the other housemates easing up at his choice, "I'm nominating Kiel because I hate him and Butters because he's, well, you know," a few of the housemates nod, "Respect my authoritah and make the right decision, or face my wrath at the next HOH competition!"

Token sighs, "You can't participate in the next HOH competition, Cartman."

"Shut your black mouth, Token!"

…

Kyle Broflovski
Intellectual Know-it-all

Cartman announced his nominations this afternoon, and I'm not surprised that he put me on the block. Right now, the magic number for me to stay in this house is four. I just need four people to think keeping me over Butters is the best option. And honestly, I think it's doable. The last thing I want is for this vote to be a tie, though, because then Cartman will have the pleasure of casting the deciding vote. So, if the house wants to get rid of me, then I pray to God they do it unanimously.

…

Ten minutes later, Kyle flops onto the bed next to his super best friend in the boys room, the pair surprisingly alone after Cartman's horrendous nomination ceremony. "So, how's it looking so far?" he wonders.

"Well, you obviously have my vote. And Craig is really pissed at Butters for the whole almost killing him incident, so I think he'll vote for him over you and Clyde will go along with it," Stan assesses, "Honestly man, I think right now you have the numbers, assuming Tweek votes with the rest of the gang, which seems rather likely. He's practically Craig's puppet."

Kyle stares down at the floor and sighs, "As long as it's not a tie, we'll be fine."

…

Outside in the hallway, Butters is sitting on the carpet, head in his hands, as he worries over the upcoming eviction. Wendy is crouched down beside him, her hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder while Bebe stands over them.

"I have a bad feeling about this, ladies," he laments, "I really feel like I'm halfway out the door."

"Don't worry, Butters," Wendy assures him, "We won't vote for you. If Kyle really wants to get you out, then he's going to have to force a tie – and even then, he'd lose. Trust me, there's nothing more that Cartman wants than to humiliate Kyle on national television."

…

Butters Stotch
Southern Belle

I really don't want to be the second person out after Kenny. I mean, sure, we'd be sequestered in a house alone and get to spend time together, but…hmm…actually, that doesn't sound so bad after all. We'd have a great time! (beams) – But, still, it would be nice to stay here a little while longer, some of the people here are awfully nice. (nervously plays with his fingers, his gaze bashfully dodging the camera)

…

Five minutes later, Craig swings open the bathroom door. He stops in front of the toilet and turns to the right, eyeing his boyfriend, who is latching onto his arm for dear life and has been following him around like a shadow the last couple of hours, his paranoia in the house at an all-time high. Craig facepalms.

"Okay, babe. You know I love you, but this is getting ridiculous. I'm not going to take a shit in front of you," Craig tells him.

"But-but what if while we're separated a giant chandelier falls on top of me and I get crushed and then you'll have to settle for Stan?" Tweek cries, bunching his hair in his free hand.

"First of all, I would never date Stan, so please flush that thought down the toilet," Craig states deadpan, taking Tweek's hand in his own and pulling it down softly, away from his hair, "And Token dismantled all of the chandeliers in this house yesterday, so that's not going to happen."

Tweek's eyes widen in fear, "But-but-"

"Tweek, honey, you need to relax," Craig says, detaching Tweek from his body so he can place two reassuring hands on his shoulders, "Everything is going to be fine, okay? Now please let me take a shit and tell Clyde to stop looking at me like that," Craig states, pointing over his shoulder.

The camera pans over to where he is pointing. Clyde is standing a few feet away from the open bathroom, gazing at Craig adoringly with puppy dog eyes.

Tweek sniffs and wipes his nose on the back of his hand, "Promise you'll come back and you won't end up like Clyde's mom?"

Craig smiles and nods, holding his hand up in a scout's honor, "I promise."

Tweek sniffles, "Okay," he squeaks, reluctantly taking a step backwards. Craig leans forward and pecks him on the cheek before swinging the door closed.

…

Nighttime falls over the house a lot quicker than the houseguests anticipated. Tweek is standing in the hallway alone on his way back from brushing his teeth in the bathroom, feeling quite better after successfully easing his paranoia with his boyfriend's help earlier, although the blonde still feels slightly on edge. He is staring at one of the two-way mirrors, gazing at it skeptically, unaware of the person coming up behind him. Clyde lightly touches Tweek on the arm, gently alerting him of his presence.

"Hey, Tweek. Can we talk?" Clyde wonders. Tweek shrieks and hesitantly freezes when he eyes Clyde's reflection in the mirror in front of him. Clyde sighs, grabs Tweek's arm, and leads him into the empty living room. Clyde loosens his grip and lets his arm go, "Look, I'm sorry, man. I don't know what came over me-"

Tweek slowly turns and looks at him, the pair facing the large back window, "Clyde, it's fine," he states soothingly.

"No, it's not fine," Clyde states firmly, "I was upset because Bebe rejected me and I took it out on you. That was an incredibly stupid thing to do and I understand if you can never forgive me for it."

An awkward silence looms over them as Tweek stares down at the floorboard.

"Clyde," Tweek speaks up, his voice at a whisper as he nervously fidgets with his hands, his face filled with sorrow, "Do you really think I'm not a part of the group?"

Clyde scrunches his forehead, taken completely off-guard by the question, "What?"

"It's just-when you were ranting earlier, you said that I wasn't an official member of the gang. Is that true?"

Clyde looks up, flashing Tweek his classic endearing grin, "No, of course not, Tweek."

Tweek nods, though it appears as though he doesn't fully believe these words. "So…you don't hate me?"

Clyde shakes his head, "No, I don't," he states, the atmosphere growing tense around them as they awkwardly stand side by side, "Look, Tweek, I don't dislike you, okay? It's just-I've been playing second fiddle to you forever when it comes to Craig, and I don't know why I'm having such a hard time dealing with it now."

Tweek nods in understanding at Clyde's confession as he stares down at the floor, a creeping suspicion coming to him. "Clyde," Tweek speaks into the silence, "do you like Craig?"

"No. Of course not," Clyde answers immediately, "I would never do that to you guys."

"Sorry. That question was a bit intrusive," Tweek states, nervously rubbing his forearm as he plops down on the carpet.

"It's okay. It's actually not the first time someone's asked me that," Clyde confesses, joining his friend on the floor, "Tweek, I've been the third wheel my whole life. I just don't know what's wrong with me," he says, pouring his heart out.

Tweek gives a small smile as he gazes out the full-length window, "There's nothing wrong with you, Clyde. You're funny and caring and – not ugly."

Clyde slowly nods, touched by these kind words. "You know, sometimes I think you're too good to me," Clyde reaches out and places a gentle hand on Tweek's shoulder, a strange tingly feeling inching up in the pit of his stomach as Tweek turns and smiles at him. Clyde gulps as he gazes at the blonde, now noticing how Tweek's features light up and his bright blue eyes shine in the moonlight. Clyde clears his throat, suddenly feeling quite awkward, and quickly shifts his hand down.

"Um, so yeah," he states, "We should get to bed," Clyde mutters, turning away, his face flushing a deep red.

Tweek nods, seemingly oblivious to Clyde's discomfort, and stands up. Clyde watches as Tweek departs down the hallway. Clyde helplessly cowers, hiding his burning face in his hands.

"Oh no," he mutters.

…

The next morning, eight of the housemates are gathered in the living room. Kyle and Butters are sitting on the lush nomination chairs while their friends and peers are situated on the sofas around them. Cartman smiles smugly as he stares at Kyle from the sofa, the redhead looking like a nervous wreck. "Alright, guys. We're just waiting for Donovan, then we can get started," Token announces over the loudspeaker, the housemates somewhat puzzled by the loudmouth brunette's absence.

Suddenly, Clyde bolts into the living room, groggy and disheveled from his restless night of sleep last night, all thanks to his daunting revelation regarding the twitchy blonde. "Ah, Clyde. There you are," Token states, "Go on now. Take a seat. We've been waiting for you."

Clyde nods and turns to face his fellow housemates. His stomach sinks when he realizes that the only available seat on the sofa is between Tweek and Craig. Clyde slowly approaches them, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He nervously stands by Craig, "Um, can you move over?" he asks, barely above a whisper.

"Dude, it's fine," Craig replies, waving the request off with his hand, "Just sit between us. It's not like I'm Nurse Gollum and Tweek's her dead fetus."

"Eww…Craig!" Tweek whines, reaching over and playfully shoving his boyfriend in the shoulder, "Why did you have to make me the fetus?"

Clyde weakly nods and tenses up as he sinks down into the cushion between them, hoping if he wishes hard enough, it'll consume him.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to your second nomination ceremony," Token's voice blares above them, "By now, you should all know how this works. One by one, I will call each of you to the diary room, where you will cast your vote for eviction. This week only Kyle and Butters are up for nomination, so you can only cast your vote for one of them," Token reminds them, "Of the nine people in the house, only six of you are eligible to vote. The HOH, Cartman, will only cast a vote in the event of a tie. Before we vote, I will give each of the nominees one last chance to tell the other housemates why they deserve to stay in the Big Brother house. Kyle, you're up first."

"Alright," Kyle replies, pausing to take a deep breath before facing the rest of his housemates, "Guys, I know we've just started this competition and I've really enjoyed the time that I've spent here. If you guys keep me, I promise that I will try my best to give it my all in the challenges and to get to know each and every one of you. Thank you."

"Nicely done," Token states as Cartman gives an eye roll at the ceiling, "Butters, how about you?"

"Well, gee, I've just had the best time with each one of you fellas," Butters begins, fiddling with his knuckles, "And I sure hope that you all think I'm a valuable enough person to keep around. But even if you don't, I still love you, and I'm sorry if I scared any of you with my tap dancing routine."

"Very good," Token states, "Now, without further ado, Wendy, please head to the diary room and cast your vote for eviction."

Wendy nods and stands up from the sofa. She walks across the carpet and steps into the diary room.

Wendy Testaburger
Hippie Rights Activist

Kyle, you and I have a lot in common. That's why I know you're going to be a tough competitor. Plus, Butters has been a great friend to me in the house and I just can't turn my back on him. With that being said, today I vote to evict Kyle.

Wendy exits the room and takes her seat back next to Bebe. Token addresses Stan, "Alright, Stanley, you're up."

Kyle watches as Stan firmly stands up and makes his way to cast his vote.

Stan Marsh
The Normal One

Kyle, I swore I had your back on day one and I intend to keep that promise. I vote to evict Butters.

Stan returns to the sofas as Token calls Craig over to the diary room. Craig sits up, slightly startled by the instruction, "Oh, that's right. I get to vote this time," he states, before getting up and heading towards the diary room.

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

Butters, you're an okay person…I guess, but the moment you almost killed my best friend, my boyfriend, and Clyde, your days in the house were over in my opinion. So…yeah, can I go now?

As soon as Craig returns, Tweek turns to him as his butt fits the sofa. "How did it go?" he wonders.

Craig waves it off like it was nothing, "I totally aced it, babe," he states as Bebe stands up and makes her way over to the confessional.

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

I vote to evict Kyle. I wish I had a good strategic reason behind it, but the simple fact of the matter is I just can't betray a friend. I hope he understands that.

"Alright, Donovan," Token speaks up once Bebe takes her seat, "You're up."

Clyde shrieks as Token's voice tears into his thoughts. The brunette slowly stands up and fumbles to the diary room, shaking so much he can barely get a grip on the door. After a few moments of struggling, Clyde finally manages to tug it open and wobbles inside.

Clyde Donovan
Human Garbage Disposal

Hey, uh, camera. Today I'm casting my vote for Butters. Not that I always enjoy doing what Craig does-whoa, okay. Yeah, that came out wrong. Careful there, Clyde. (laughs nervously) I mean, who would want to do Tweek? Not me! That's for damn sure. (forced laughter)

Clyde slowly makes his way out of the confessional and stumbles his way back onto the sofa, nearly knocking into Tweek, who is now standing up in preparation to cast his vote. "Whoa, sorry," Clyde impishly squeaks.

"It's okay," Tweek smiles and nods before making his way over to the door.

Tweek Tweak
Extreme Coffee Addict

Kyle is very intelligent. I think Stan believes he's the one calling the shots, but Kyle is really the one in control, so that's why this week I vote to evict Kyle.

Tweek gives a sigh of relief as he sinks back into his seat on the sofa. Next to him, both of the nominees are anxiously playing with their hands. Butters is sporting a small smile while Kyle is looking like he is about to vomit at any moment.

"Alright, everyone. The votes are in. It's time to reveal the second person who will be banished from the Big Brother house," Token announces, everyone holding their breaths as they prepare for the verdict, "For the first time this season, we are deadlocked at 3-3," he reveals. At this, Kyle lets out a distressful cry and throws his head down, faceplanting on his knees. "According to the official rules of Big Brother, in the event of a tie, the current Head of Household will cast the deciding vote. So, Cartman, whenever you are ready, please stand up and announce your vote for eviction to the rest of the housemates."

"Thank you, Token," Cartman states. He stands up and walks over to the two nominees, a smug smile spread across his face as he gazes down at them. Butters is smiling up at Cartman while Kyle's eyes are glued to the carpet, "Yew guys, I've given this a lot of thought. There were a lot of things to consider when making this decision and after weighing the pros and cons of keeping each of you, I, the great and powerful Eric Cartman, have made my choice," Cartman declares, the room dead silent around him, "That's why I vote to evict you, Butters," he states, the announcement causing all the other housemates to drop their jaws in shock, "And I can only hope that you can forgive me for it and still give me foot massages once this is all over."

"Well, gee, Eric, of course I will!" Butters beams, standing up from his chair and bringing the fatass in for a hug. Behind him, Kyle is still frozen in shock. "I'm just happy I got the chance to be here!"

Everyone, minus Kyle, stands up from their seats and surrounds Butters, each wishing the small blonde well. "Goodbye, Butters," Wendy says, pulling him into a group hug with her best friend, "We'll miss you."

"Aww, shucks, ladies. I'll miss you too," Butters states, "Thanks for all your help!" he says sincerely, before moving back to give Stan a sturdy handshake.

"Bye, Butters!" Tweek waves.

"Bye, Tweek!" Butters chimes as he slowly makes his way to the door. Butters stops beside the entrance of the Big Brother estate and grabs his bag. He pauses next to the doorway and gives one final wave goodbye, "So long, everybody, and good luck! I'll tell Kenny you said hi!"

"No! Don't tell Kinny that. I hate him!" Cartman shouts back.

Butters opens the door and steps out, a familiar voice chiming from outside the house as the door slowly swings shut behind him.

"Butters! Did you get banished after only two weeks? You're grounded, mister!" Stephen Stotch blares from the exterior.

"Aww, hamburgers!" Butters cries.

…

Later that night, Craig yawns and rubs his eyes as he slowly makes the long trek back to his bedroom from the toilet. Craig wanders down the hallway, pausing suddenly when he catches a bizarre display in front of him. He stops and slowly backtracks a few steps, eyebrow raised as he watches Stan passionately make out with Kyle against one of the hallway walls, the pair moaning as their tongues tango with one another. Craig cautiously and quietly steps backwards, watching them the entire way to the diary room, his mouth flitting into a telling smirk.

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Homosexual

I knew it. I fuckin' knew it.

Chapter Text

"And they were just kissing?" Tweek repeats, lying on his side on the bed the next morning while Craig sits in front of him, Tweek listening intently to Craig recapping exactly what he walked in on last night.

"Oh yeah," Craig replies, "And it wasn't just kissing, I mean, there was some tongue and heavy petting in there. It was like watching two chimps at the zoo."

Tweek scrunches his forehead, "But I thought Stan was dating Wendy."

"If he is, then he's the worst," Craig concludes, wrapping his arms around his propped-up knee.

"You already thought he was the worst."

"And this proves it," Craig confirms with a nod.

"Did they see you?" Tweek wonders.

"No. The way they were going at it, Wall-Mart could've shit itself to death right in front of them and they wouldn't have budged."

Tweek shakes his head, stares down at the bed, and sighs, "Poor Wendy."

"Yeah, poor Wendy," Craig agrees, giving a small sigh before perking up slightly and getting up, "Well, gotta go gloat to Stan and rub his face in it."

"Wait!" Tweek grabs Craig's arm, pulling him back onto the bed with an assertive tug, "Maybe we should tell Wendy first just in case Stan tries to lie and say it never happened."

Craig cocks his forehead, "Is that what you do when someone cheats? I thought you're supposed to announce it in front of the whole school," he states, smirking.

"No, you only do that when your crush is an apathetic asshole," Tweek quips, flashing him a simper.

"Ah, so you did have a crush on me," Craig says smugly.

Tweek drifts his gaze to the floorboard, his face pinkening, "Shut up. Just promise me you won't approach Stan until I get a chance to tell Wendy."

"Aw! But I want to rub it in Stan's face," Craig cries, slouching slightly in disappointment, caving as usual at his partner's piercing glare. Craig sighs and rolls his eyes, "Fine. I promise, honey."

…

Kyle Broflovski
Intellectual Know-it-all

Well, I surprisingly didn't go home last night. And now I've been racking my brain all day trying to figure out why the hell Cartman saved me.

…

"I just don't understand it; Cartman's always been out to get me," Kyle states, venting to Stan as they sit alone on their beds in the boys room, "If that's true, then why did he save me last night?"

Stan looks up at Kyle, crossing his legs as he ponders this one over, "Maybe it's like the whole Batman and the Joker thing. Maybe he realized his time here would be meaningless if he didn't have his greatest enemy to plot against."

"Maybe," Kyle responds, but his tone suggests that he isn't sure, "Or maybe he's trying to use me for his own benefit."

Stan gazes forward, nodding in agreement, "Yeah, that does sound more like Cartman."

…

Five minutes later, Kyle barges into the HOH room, not even bothering to wait for Cartman to grant him permission to come in. Kyle storms over to Cartman, who is sitting on the grand HOH bed reading the newest Chinpokomon comic book, more startled than annoyed by Kyle's sudden appearance. Kyle stops in front of the bed and glares down at him, "Alright. Why'd you do it, Cartman?" he asks firmly.

Cartman blinks once, a playful smile gracing his face as he stares up at the redhead. "Why'd I do what, Kiel?" he wonders.

"Don't play dumb with me! Why didn't you evict me last night? You had me!"

"Maybe it was out of the pure goodness of my heart, Kiel," Cartman states, returning to his comic book, completely unfazed by Kyle's outburst.

"You don't have one!" Kyle cries, his words cutting through the bullshit like a knife, "Now why didn't you banish me?"

Cartman sits up and sighs, briefly locking eyes with Kyle before standing up. Kyle watches as Cartman paces over to the wall and stops abruptly, gazing proudly at the lavish portrait of himself. "It's all quite simple, really," Cartman begins, seeming more like he's talking to himself than to the boy behind him, "We need each other to get further. You see, Kiel, no one can win this game on their own – no matter how amazingly awesome they may be. The simple fact of the matter is, I can't win all six remaining HOH competitions by myself and you can't either. But if you and I were to work together, we would become an unstoppable duo that no one would see coming."

"But why me?" Kyle wonders, throwing his hands at his sides as he takes a step forward, "Don't you hate me? I hate you."

"Of course, and that's what makes my plan so ingenious!" Cartman claims, excitedly turning to face him, "Everyone thinks we hate each other, so they'll never suspect that we're together. We'll win all the remaining HOH competitions and slowly take down those other losers one by one until it's just down to you and me – the ultimate showdown in the finals. Our final battle, so to speak."

"Uh-huh," Kyle states, his voice filled with skepticism. He crosses his arms, "And why should I trust you? You've screwed me over more times than I can count."

"True," Cartman nods, "but even you know that my plan is too flawless to pass up. You also know that if you went with me to the finals that money is as good as yours. So, Kiel, what do you say? Are you ready to win five hundred thousand dollars?" he asks, holding his hand out.

Kyle sighs, uneasily staring down at Cartman's hand for a moment before tilting his forehead. He stares up at Cartman, a hint of doubt still in his eyes, "No tricks? No parents in the chili?"

"No tricks and no Mr. and Mrs. Tellerman," Cartman confirms, holding his palm up.

After a long pause where Kyle thinks over every possible way this could go wrong and ultimately comes to the conclusion that he may someday come to regret either option, Kyle looks up at Cartman and takes his hand, "Alright. Deal," he states, firmly shaking it.

"Excellent," Cartman coos, turning back towards the wall as Kyle walks towards the door. Cartman rubs his hands sinisterly together as he laughs under his breath. "That's right, Kial. Go on your merry little way. Little do you know I'm going to stab you in the back at the final three."

Kyle snaps his head around and glares at him, "I heard that!"

"Heard what?" Cartman twists around, his face sporting a blank expression as he eyes the Jew at the door.

Kyle storms over to Cartman, shoving his finger on his chest. "I just heard you say that you're going to stab me in the back!" he states accusatorily.

"What? No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!" Kyle cries, "You said that you're going to stab me in the back at the final three."

Cartman blinks twice, doing his best to look as innocent as possible, "I don't know what you're talking about, Kiel. I would never do that."

"You better not. Cause if you do, I'm telling everyone about your Britney Spears music videos," he warns, giving him one more aggressive poke before storming out the door.

Cartman quickly waddles after him, stopping in the doorway to scream out at him, "Oh come on, Kahl. That was one time!"

…

Clyde Donovan
Human Garbage Disposal

This game has been particularly cruel to me. First, I get stuck in a house with my on-again-off-again girlfriend, who is currently off-again and is now dating one of the hottest guys in the city and seems to be having the time of her life with him. And just when I thought my life couldn't get any worse, I discover that I have a massive crush on Tweek, who is dating my best bro, who will most likely kill me if he catches wind of it. (sighs) What am I supposed to do, Token?

"Why are you asking me for advice?" Token voices over the loudspeaker, "I'm supposed to be an impartial host."

"Come on, man. I can't tell Craig or Tweek about it. I'm dying here!" Clyde cries up at the ceiling, throwing his arms out in anguish, "What would you do if you had a crush on Tweek?"

Token sighs, "Sorry, Clyde. I'm not allowed to interfere with any relationships in the house. You're going to have to figure this out on your own."

…

Later that morning, Tweek smiles as he holds up a completed batch of scrambled eggs in the only skillet that the housemates hadn't yet destroyed. He walks over to the table and holds them out to Bebe, who gladly scoops some onto her plate with the spatula. Clyde steps into the kitchen behind them.

"Hey, Clyde," Tweek greets, glancing up slightly at his entrance, "do you want any eggs?"

Clyde stops in place, his eyes widening when he sees Tweek. "No, no, NO!" he cries, bolting out of the room in a panic, almost knocking over an oncoming Wendy in the process.

Tweek cocks his forehead before staring down at the eggs in his skillet. "Huh. I didn't think they were that burnt," he shrugs. "Oh, hey, Wendy," Tweek states, once he notices his housemate sit down at the table, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Wendy looks up and rubs the sleep from her eye, "Sure."

A few minutes later, Tweek and Wendy are gathered in the storage room, the pair having made sure the coast was clear beforehand. "So, uh, what did you want to talk to me about?" Wendy wonders, now feeling like her body is at 100%.

Tweek clasps his hands together and sighs, unsure how exactly to proceed with what he has to tell her. "You know I would never lie to you, right? If I told you something, especially something that doesn't pertain to the game, you would believe me, right?" he wonders.

Wendy's stomach sinks, "Tweek, what is it? You're scaring me."

Tweek stares down at her and sighs, "Wendy, Stan is cheating on you with Kyle. Craig caught them last night."

"WHAT?!" Wendy shrieks, her piercing scream echoing off the walls, "Tweek, are you sure?"

"Well, I didn't see it personally," Tweek says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, "But I know Craig would never lie to me, especially not about something like this."

"Oh my God, oh my God!" Wendy cries, pacing away from Tweek as she anxiously runs all of her fingers through her hair. She stops in front of the wall on the opposite side of the room, her eyes filling with tears. "Why would he do this to me? And with Kyle?" she states, a hint of disgust in her tone, "This just doesn't make sense. It must be a mistake! Tell me it's a mistake, Tweek!" she pleads, grabbing onto her friend's shoulders for dear life. Tweek meekly shakes his head, a somber look spread across his face. Wendy bursts into tears and throws her arms around Tweek, crying into his shoulder.

Tweek sniffs, "I'm sorry, Wendy," he states, wrapping his arms around her.

…

Five minutes later, Stan sighs as he reaches down and flushes the toilet, his mind still spinning over Cartman's shocking decision to keep his super best friend. Stan throws open the doorway and takes a step out, barely paying attention to his surroundings.

"Hello, Stanley," Craig states, a stern smile on his face as he stands a mere two feet in front of Stan, his arms crossed.

Stan shrieks and falls back slightly, catching himself with the door before he topples onto the tile. "Jesus Christ!" he cries, his hand clutching his heart, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Doesn't matter," Craig answers, as monotone as ever, "There's something important we need to discuss," he says, following Stan to the bathroom sink. Stan turns on the faucet and starts washing his hands, "You know, I went to the bathroom last night…"

"This is the important thing that we need to discuss?" Stan says, raising an eyebrow.

"No, dipshit, I'm not done," Craig replies, already growing impatient with him, "When I went to the bathroom last night, I saw you sucking face with Broflovski."

Stan reaches forward and turns the water off, clearly shaken, but trying his best to stay cool as he grabs a towel. "Okay. What? Do you want tips or something?" he asks, drying his hands off. Craig narrows his eyes at him.

"Don't try to change the subject. You're two-timing Wendy, aren't you?" he fires.

"Why do you care, Mr. Robot?"

Craig rolls his eyes, "Because I don't want any innocent people getting trapped in your web of lies."

"Wow," Stan sarcastically spews, "How very noble of you," he coos, scanning over Craig's face in disgust, "You know Tweek made you soft."

"Actually, he does quite the opposite," Craig quips, causing Stan to groan and walk off. Craig shrugs and follows him, "Hey, you walked right into that one," he states as the pair head to the empty boys room, "So, how does Kyle feel about you still dating Wendy?" Craig wonders.

Stan halts in the center of the room and stares guiltily down at the floorboard, "Oh my God, he doesn't even know," Craig realizes, folding his arms, "And let me take a wild guess here and say she doesn't know about Kyle either."

"It's none of your business. Now fuck off," Stan warns, turning on his heels and flopping onto his mattress.

"Stan, this is serious. You need to confess and tell Kyle and Wendy the truth before this whole thing explodes in your face," Craig tells him, surprisingly trying to help him for once, "If you don't, the guilt is going to burrow its way out of you some other way. Remember when Cartman faked Tourette's? We learned way more information from his own mouth than we ever needed to know."

"Shut up, Craig," Stan states with an eyeroll, "You don't know what you're talking about. Just because you're only into one person doesn't mean everyone else has to be too."

Craig leans back boastfully, "You're right. I am Tweeksexual," he brags.

Stan pinches the bridge of his nose, "Please don't say that," he groans.

"But for the record, Stan, I don't have a problem with you dating more than one person," Craig corrects him, "I have a problem with you forcing two unsuspecting people into a secret love triangle and leading them both on."

"Well, good for you," Stan huffs, "Now get the hell out of my room, Tucker!" he cries, watching as Craig sighs and rolls his eyes at the ceiling before surprisingly doing what he is told. Stan growls and grabs the pillow from Kenny's old bed, angrily chucking it across the room as he exits.

Someone loudly adjusts one of the microphones above him, causing an irritating static sound to blare over the loudspeaker. Stan raises an eyebrow as the classic background trailer track starts playing immediately afterwards.

"Stan Marsh is a twenty-one-year-old, washed-up college graduate. He's got no job, no class, and is looking for love in all the wrong places," the annoying voiceover judge from his days as a peewee hockey coach narrates over just the loudspeaker in his room, "And now, he's about to find out that being in a secret love triangle is not as easy as it seems…"

"Oh my God, will you cut that out?!" Stan cries at the ceiling.

"…Stan Marsh is…a cheater! Rated PG-13," the narrator completes in a comically over-exaggerated voice before shutting off the music in one shift motion.

Stan groans and faceplants into his pillow.

…

Cartman is sprawled out on his back on his HOH bed humming to himself as he fusses over the photo of Mr. Kitty that he is holding above him. "Oh, Mr. Kitty. You are so cute! Way cuter than Kiel," he coos. Cartman shrieks and drops the picture when a sharp knock is heard at the door. "What?" Cartman growls, quickly grabbing the framed photo and shoving it under his pillow in one swift motion, "Who goes there?" he cries, rolling onto his stomach.

"It's Clyde," the voice rings back, "I need your help."

"Clyde?" Cartman repeats, his eyebrows scrunched in puzzlement. Cartman sighs as he flops off the bed and makes his way over to the door. He swings it open and narrows his eyes at the brunette, "Clyde," he sighs, "I keep telling you, you and Bebe are a lost cause."

"No, not with Bebe," Clyde states, Cartman stepping back curiously and letting Clyde enter the room upon hearing this news. Clyde carefully shuts the door, his eyes filled with fear, "I have a crush on someone else in the house, and I need to squash it as soon as possible. So, can you help me?"

Cartman leans back slightly, bringing his hand up to his chin in a ponder. He strokes it a few times as he stares at his subject, "That depends on what you can give me."

"I'll give you anything," Clyde states frantically, "Just name your price!"

"Hmm…" Cartman begins, seriously thinking this over, "well, you've always been a good friend to me, Clyde…defending me against Kiel and all those losers, so I'll tell you what. I'll help you get over this person for…eight thousand dollars."

Clyde cocks his forehead, his eyes bulging at the number. "Dude, that's way too steep. How about ten dollars?"

"Ooh, ouch!" Cartman winces, pressing his hand against his stomach like Clyde's words just stabbed him, "You're breaking my balls here, Clyde."

"How about fifteen?" he offers.

Cartman's face lights up. "Deal!" he reaches out and shakes Clyde's hand. Cartman quickly drawls his hand back and devilishly taps his fingertips together as he stares at Clyde, "Excellent! Now let the games begin!"

"What games?"

"Clyde. Come on, seriously, okay? It's just an expression," Cartman states, leaning back in his lounge chair and resting his hands behind his head in the classic smug smartass position, "So, who's this little crush of yours? It's Kahl, isn't it? No one wants to like that guy, trust me."

"No, it's not Kyle," Clyde says, already feeling himself sweating over the question, "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd prefer to keep their identity a secret. You know, cause I'm actively trying to crush my feelings for them," Clyde meekly explains, fiddling nervously with his knuckles.

Cartman raises an eyebrow, unsatisfied with his answer, "But if you don't tell me, then how am I supposed to help you, Clyde? My advice is hand-tailored to fit each person."

"Cartman, please, you gotta help me!" Clyde cries, falling on his knees in front of the fatass and clasping his hands together in a desperate plea, "It's only been a day and things have already gotten so bad that I can't even be around this person anymore. How can I go on if all I want to do when I'm alone with them is kiss their cute, unattainable face?!" he shrieks, his voice filled with panic.

Cartman tilts his head as he stares down at him, "Then just do it. Just kiss their face."

"Are you nuts?!" Clyde shouts, near hysterical, "I can't do that to-them, that's practically digging my own grave!"

"But maybe if you kiss them, you'll realize they're not that great and that your feelings were all just a big pile of disappointment," Cartman states, like this is the most obvious solution in the world.

"That's your plan?" Clyde coos, unable to believe what he is hearing.

Cartman leans back in his seat and huffs, "Well, if you have a better one then why am I here?" he questions.

Clyde stands up from the carpet and straightens his back out, silence dawning over the pair as he seriously thinks Cartman's plan over. "Alright, fine. I'll kiss them," Clyde states, in disbelief that he is actually thinking of going through with this horrible idea, "But if this backfires, I blame you," he says, quickly swinging open the HOH door and departing the room before he can knock some sense into his brain.

Cartman rolls his eyes and grunts as he stands up and hobbles towards the door, "You'll thank me for this later!" he calls out after him.

…

Five minutes later, Clyde sighs as he approaches the open doorway of the girls room. He stops quietly and peeks into the bedroom, his stomach dropping when he spies Tweek sitting on one of the beds with Craig. "This is stupid. This is a stupid plan. There's no way that this'll work," Clyde mutters to himself as he ducks back behind the wall in the hallway, "I'll be lucky if I can get five seconds alone with him. And even if I do kiss him, he's gonna scream and kick my ass before Craig goes and kicks my ass again," he laments, Clyde's eyes widening when he hears a thump.

"Ack, Craig! What did you do?" Tweek's voice chimes from the other room, "Your hand-eye coordination sucks."

"I know. That's why I despise team sports," Craig's monotone voice responds.

"I thought that was because you hated being a part of a team."

"That too, babe," Craig states, "Now can you get that for me?"

Tweek sighs, "Fine. But this is the last time."

Clyde peers into the room, watching as Tweek bends over, looking as though he is trying to fish out something that Craig dropped under the bed. Clyde's face flushes as Tweek wiggles his butt up. "Craig, I don't think I can reach it," Tweek states, groaning as he extends his arm out.

"It's okay, honey. I really think you can get it. Just try harder," Craig states, giving a playful smirk as he slips off the bed and drapes himself on top of his boyfriend.

Tweek squeaks as he feels Craig wraps his arms around him. "Craig!" Tweek cries, his cheeks flushing as the noirette rubs against him, "I'm starting to think you only threw something down here just to get me in this position."

"Mmm…and would that be such a bad thing?" Craig coos, turning slightly to plant a trail of kisses on his neck.

"Yes," Tweek pants, trying his best to keep his composure, but failing miserably as he lets out a soft moan, "That's downright evil, Craig Tucker!"

Clyde gulps as he stands frozen in the hallway, all ounce of strength completely drained from his body.

…

Later that afternoon, Clyde casually strolls into the living room, his mind beat from a day of listening to Cartman's stupid plans to combat his crush. Clyde shrieks when Craig pops into his line of vision, Craig's face as expressionless as ever as he stares at him. "Hey, man. Where have you been? We've been looking for you all day," Craig wonders.

"Nowhere," Clyde frantically squeaks, his eyes wide like saucers.

Craig cocks an eyebrow and takes another sip of his soda, "What have you been doing?"

"Nothing," Clyde states with a sweatdrop.

"Yeah, that sounds like you," Craig states, his tone as flat as his soda.

Clyde stares down at the carpet as he kicks his feet, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible but instead looking suspicious as hell. "So, uh, did you sleep with Tweek?"

Craig scrunches his forehead, "What kind of question is that? Is this supposed to be an attempt at small talk?"

Clyde steps back, nervously rubbing the nape of his neck, "Just wanna know if I have to burn the sheets," he quips, attempting to sound more jokey than invested.

"Since when do you clean your sheets?" Craig wonders. He briefly looks over Clyde's shoulder, "I'm getting bored of this. I'm going to leave now."

"Alright." Clyde sighs as he looks over his shoulder, spying what captured Craig's attention only a short moment ago. Clyde watches as Craig joins Tweek across the room. Craig is so happy that he is sporting a smile for once.

"So," Cartman begins, creeping up behind the distracted brunette and swinging an arm around his shoulder, "did you do it?"

"Um, now isn't a good time," Clyde says, staring forlornly across the room.

Cartman steps back and huffs before following an invisible line to where Clyde is looking. Cartman smirks as he sees Wendy standing next to Tweek across the room. He pats Clyde roughly on the shoulder. "Here. I'll help you."

Clyde's mouth springs open, "Wait, no!"

"Aye, everybody!" Cartman announces, taking a few steps forward and waving all of his housemates towards the center of the room, "Everyone shut up and pay attention! Now, I'm going to need all of you losers to line up in front of me and kiss Clyde. Really plant one on him," he instructs, Clyde's face reddening as Cartman points at him, all eyes in the room landing on the pair, "Come on, people! Get over here and make out with this guy!"

Kyle groans as he steps out of the boys room with Stan. He walks angrily over to the fatass, sporting his classic irritated expression. "Cartman!" Kyle barks, "What the hell is going on here?"

"Ah, Kiel, Stan, you're just in time," Cartman says as smooth as butter, taking a step back and nudging Kyle towards the center of the room by his shirt sleeve, "I'm going to need you both to line up and kiss Clyde."

"Oh no," Stan moans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh yes," Cartman repeats, a little too enthusiastically, "You see, it's all a part of today's food challenge. In order for us to win food this week, everyone, minus me of course, has to line up and French Clyde. Aye, Craig! Where are you going?" Cartman cries, aggressively pointing at Craig, who is holding Tweek's hand and leading him into the hallway.

"This is stupid," Craig states flatly.

"No, it's not!"

Kyle sighs, "Yes, it is," he confirms, "Come on Cartman, there's no way Token told us to do that."

"Why does Token tell us to do anything, Kiel?" Cartman proposes, holding both his hands up in the hopes of looking profound, "That's right, black rage."

Kyle groans and rolls his eyes at the ceiling, "I'm out of here," he huffs, as the rest of the housemates start dispersing around him.

"That's fine! That's fine!" Cartman huffs, waving his finger in a snit, "Fuck you, Kahl! And fuck you, Stan!" he shouts, watching as his fellow group members walk off. Cartman turns to Clyde, who is still standing awkwardly next to him and scans him over, "Clyde, you're still kewl," he states.

…

A few hours later, Stan and Kyle are sitting alone facing each other on Stan's bed in the boys room, the room quite empty after the departure of both Kenny and Butters. Kyle smiles as he spies Cartman's empty bed from the corner of his eye. "You know, Cartman winning HOH last week really did have some perks," he says, gazing lovingly at Stan as he picks up both of his hands and squeezes them tight.

"I know, right? It's just you and me now. Just like when we're the final two," Stan replies, leaning forward and kissing Kyle on the cheek. Kyle's face flushes.

"Stan, stop. You're making me blush," Kyle states shyly, his eyes trailing to the floor.

"Do you think anyone heard us last night?" Stan wonders, tightening his grip on Kyle's hands.

"I don't think so," Kyle responds, "I'm pretty sure most of these people sleep like rocks."

A knock is heard at the door, causing the pair to jump back from their spots. Stan clears his throat while Kyle does his best to keep his composure next to him. "Uh, who is it?" Stan cries out.

"It's Clyde!"

Stan and Kyle exchange curious glances with each other before Stan gives a shrug. "Come in!"

Taking no time, Clyde barrels in through the doorway dressed in his pajamas and carrying his blanket and pillow. He drops them on Kenny's old bed. "Hey, guys. Hope you don't mind if I spend the night with you tonight."

"What?" Kyle squeaks, "Why?"

Clyde steps back a bit, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck at the objection, "I just – thought that, you know, things were getting kind of crowded in girls room. And since it's just you and Stan here, I thought you guys would like having some company."

"Uh-huh," Stan states, puzzled by Clyde's persistence, "But wouldn't you rather be with Tweek and Craig?"

"Are you kidding? All they do is cuddle and suck face!" Clyde cries, flopping onto Kenny's old bed and rearranging his pillows, "I mean, where's the fun in that?" he wonders. Stan and Kyle stare awkwardly at each other once his back is turned, "So," Clyde states, turning back to the super best friends with a grin, "who wants to play some Uno?"

…

Early the next morning, Cartman is sitting on his queen-sized HOH bed, digging through his basket of goodies when Clyde lightly knocks and enters the room. "You wanted to see me?" Clyde wonders.

"Yes, Clyde. Come in, come in," Cartman states, putting down the king-sized candy bar and turning towards the brunette. Cartman smiles as Clyde gets situated on the lounge chair. "You know Clyde, I've been thinking a lot about your little problem lately. And I think I've finally figured out why you've been so secretive about it."

"You have?" Clyde squeaks, seeing his life flash before his eyes.

Cartman sits up and gives Clyde a smug nod. "This crush of yours," he begins, "you don't want to say who they are because they're taken, right? Taken by a certain raven-haired, hat-wearing stud?" he coos.

Clyde leans backwards slightly, shifting his eyes as he fidgets in his seat. "Uh…maybe."

"Ha! I knew it!" Cartman cries, leaning back down on his bed frame, clearly proud of himself for uncovering this little mystery, "You are totally crushing on Wendy, man. Not my cup of tea, but she is kinda cute if she keeps her gab shut."

"W-wendy?" Clyde trickles out. He heaves a huge sigh of relief, "-Oh yeah. It's Wendy," he confirms, "So, can you help me get over her?"

"Trust me, Clyde, by the time today is over, you won't even remember her name."

…

An hour later, Cartman smiles as he moseys over to the girls room, whistling a happy tune as he steps through the door frame. Bebe and Wendy are sitting on Bebe's bed against the back wall of the room, discussing what they think the latest trends are this summer. The conversation immediately dies when Cartman enters the room.

"What do you want, Cartman?" Bebe asks, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Why hello ladies…and Bebe," Cartman adds, giving the blonde a devious smirk, "I just came over here because I wanted to show Wendy something really kewl I found in the storage room."

"Psh, yeah right! It's probably just another one of your stupid plans!" Bebe cries, rolling her eyes up at the ceiling.

"Aye! You shut your mouth, you bitch! You don't know what you're talking about!" Cartman fires, his demeanor instantly changing when he turns to Wendy. He gives her a half-hearted smile, "So, are you going to come with me or not?"

"No!" Wendy shouts, offended that he has the audacity to even ask her that.

Cartman clasps his hands behind his back and sighs, "Fine. I guess you leave me no choice then."

"Hey!" Wendy squeaks as Cartman trudges over to her, grabs her by the arm, and swings her forward. Cartman drags Wendy out the doorway, stopping only to tug open the storage closet. "Cartman! What the hell are you doing?! Let me go!" Wendy cries, but Cartman pushes her inside and slams the door shut before she can get an answer out of him.

"Uh…hi," someone nervously greets.

Wendy turns around, finding herself face to face with Clyde. "Oh, um, hi," Wendy greets back, before stepping back slightly to take in her surroundings. The once-drab storage room has been transformed into some kind of pink-hued romantic love nest, complete with red scented candles. Wendy moves her leg forward, nearly knocking into a stereo playing smooth jazz music a few feet away from her.

"Sorry," Clyde states, the atmosphere rather awkward around them as he attempts to gauge her reaction, "I don't know what the hell is wrong with him," he shrugs.

Wendy continues gazing around the room, her eyes landing on a gigantic red paper heart that is stuck to the wall in front of her. She bursts into tears.

"Whoa, Wendy. Are you alright?" Clyde states, rushing over to comfort her.

Wendy sniffs and carefully wipes her nose on her hand as Clyde pats her consolingly on the shoulder, "Oh, Clyde," she squeaks, "Stan cheated on me. I just found out this morning. All of this romantic stuff is just-it's just bringing it all back to me," she confesses, having a hard time keeping the tears from falling, "It seems like no matter what I do, I always end up heartbroken. First with Stan, then with Token, then with Stan again…" she trails off, before sobbing into her hands once more, "I just wish I knew what was wrong with me. Why does every guy I like have feelings for someone else?"

Clyde stares down at the floor and sighs, this question looming over him as well. "I don't know," he admits, "Because love is cruel?"

"I just don't know how I'm ever going to get over him," Wendy sniffs, "How did you get over Bebe?"

"Bebe?" Clyde repeats, taken off-guard by the mention of his latest ex, "-Oh, uh, I don't know – I-I guess I never really did," he confesses, his heart still aching in his chest.

…

Fifteen minutes later, Tweek and Craig are sitting on their bed in the girls room, the former staring into space while Craig is immersed in his book next to him. Tweek leans his head up against the wall and sighs, causing Craig to peek up from his reading. "What's wrong, babe?"

"Not much, except I think Clyde hates me," Tweek confesses, completely unaware of the fatass who is looming a few inches away from the door, "He's been avoiding me all week. He even switched bedrooms so he wouldn't have to sleep in the same room as me," he states, Cartman raising an eyebrow at this news.

"Babe, I doubt any of that was because of you," Craig states, cupping his boyfriend's knee, "he's probably just having another sugar-induced episode. You know how he gets on Wednesdays."

"Maybe," Tweek states, although his uneasiness shows that he's not fully buying it, "Or maybe he lied to me, Craig. Maybe he really does want me out of the group."

"Yeah, well, even if he does, you're not leaving," Craig assures him, throwing his arms around his boyfriend and tugging him close, "I love you too much to let you go."

Tweek blushes as he nuzzles into his arms, "God, Craig. You are so gay," he chuckles.

…

"I just don't know how I'm going to face him, Bebe," Wendy laments as Bebe paints her toenails a bright lavender on the tiled shower floor, "I'm a wreck just thinking about it."

"Just stand firm and be strong," Bebe states, not taking her eyes off her delicate brush strokes. She smiles as Wendy's newly-painted pinky toe gleams in the ceiling light, "When I thought Clyde was cheating on me, I went right up to the source and asked him straight up if he was."

"And?" Wendy squeaks, leaning forward slightly in anticipation, "Was he?"

"No," Bebe softly shakes her head before moving on to the next toenail, "turns out that woman he was at dinner with was his grandma. He took out her false teeth to prove it." Wendy winces. "Yeah, that was a weird birthday," she concludes, "especially when he started using her teeth as a hand puppet…" Bebe pauses, staring off into space for a moment before gently shaking off the thought, "The point is, Wendy, you need to confront this thing now before it spirals out of control, cause the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be to fix things."

…

Three hours later, everyone is gathered in the center of the backyard awaiting further instruction from their token black friend. "Alright, it's time for everyone's favorite event of the week…the food competition!" Token announces to the group of less-than-thrilled housemates below him, "This challenge is both a food and luxury competition that's as fun as it is challenging."

"So…it's incredibly easy?" Craig quips, his arms crossed.

"No," Token states, quickly shutting him down, "But this might interest you, Craig."

"That depends, does it involve guinea pigs?"

"No."

Craig sighs and glares at the loudspeaker, "Then I'm not interested in the slightest."

"You see, this isn't any ordinary competition. This is a pee drinking competition," he states, Token's announcement causing all of the housemates to flash him disgusted looks.

"Wait, why would that interest me?" Craig fires, "What kind of weird kinks do you think I have, Token?"

Stan steps forward, eyeing the eight glasses of urine that are situated on a small, round table in front of them. "Um, whose urine is this?" he wonders, gesturing down at the nearest glass.

"Does it matter?" Craig states, pausing slightly to glance at Stan's sheepish expression, "Oh my God, it does," he realizes.

"Anyway, each person must drink one glass of urine in order for the entire house to win groceries for the week," Token continues, blatantly ignoring the contestants' outcries, "Kyle, you're up first."

Kyle steps back, scrunching his face at the revolting suggestion, "Dude, no way. I'm not touching that thing."

"Come on, Kyle, we gotta do this," Stan speaks up, walking up behind him and placing a hand on his best friend's shoulder, "I have to impress Heather."

"Who the hell is Heather?"

"I don't know!" Stan cries.

Kyle turns to the other housemates, who are all staring at him wondering if he's going to have the balls to go through with this. Kyle's gaze lands on Stan, who is flashing him a hopeful expression. He sighs and picks up the glass, "Fine," Kyle states, wincing as he takes a sip of it.

"Kyle, wait! That was a joke. You don't have to actually down the urine!" Token's voice breaks into the silence.

Kyle quickly spits out the substance, a storm of rage igniting in his body as he shoots daggers at the loudspeaker. "WHAT?!" he cries as Cartman snickers into his hand. "You mean I did all that for nothing?!"

"Well, not nothing," Token states, Wendy gives a tiny smile, "You'll probably become a meme," he says, earning a few angry grumbles from the redhead. Token clears his throat, "Now that that little fiasco is over, it's time for the real joint food and luxury competition. For this week's competition, we're going to test how well you know your housemates. In front of each of you is a bag, go ahead and grab it," Token states, pausing slightly to watch the housemates grab the paper bags on the ground in front of them, a few of them casting the cameras curious looks before staring inside, "Before the competition, I randomly assigned you into pairs based on the colored t-shirt that is in your bag. Now go ahead and take it out, put it on, and find your partner."

Clyde reaches his hand in and pulls out a bright green t-shirt. He looks to the right only to find Tweek pulling a similar green shirt over his shoulders. Clyde turns forward and glares suspiciously at the loudspeaker.

"Oh come on, who the fuck likes red?" Craig sneers, rolling his eyes hard when he sees his shirt matches Stan's.

"Craig, just put on the shirt," Token orders. Craig rolls his eyes again, zips off his jacket, and reluctantly throws the shirt on.

Kyle smiles slightly as he successfully gets the bright yellow shirt over his shoulders. "Hey, partner," he greets, standing next to Bebe, who is wearing a matching yellow one. Cartman and Wendy are standing next to them sporting blue shirts, much to Craig's chagrin, both looking equally displeased by being paired together.

A few feet away, Tweek eeps, still struggling to get his shirt over his head, one sleeve bunched under his armpit while the other is stuck above his shoulder. "Ack! Craig, I'm stuck. Help me!" he squeaks, waving the loose sleeve over his shoulder at his boyfriend.

Craig immediately walks over, his anger dissipating at the sight. "Okay, babe, but I'm not that great at getting your clothes on." He pulls the sleeve down, helping Tweek put his arm through.

Tweek smiles and breathes a sigh of relief after Craig successfully gets his shirt on, "Thank you," he states, his shoulders slumped slightly as he stares down at his ensemble, "And I just realized I didn't need to change shirts after all," he squeaks, gazing down once more at his new solid green shirt, which is draped over his classic green button-down.

"Alright, now that everyone looks ready to go, I'll have each of you take a seat at one of those four stations," he states, gesturing at the wall behind the housemates at the four Newlywed-styled booths arranged in rainbow order and propped up against it, before realizing it is entirely pointless because the contestants can't see him. "Everyone sit down with your partner in one of the two chairs in your matching booth and pick up the marker and cards located on the side of it." The contestants nod and actually do what they are told, "If you can't already tell, today we are playing the Newlywed Game! Earlier today, I had each of you go into the diary room and answer five questions about yourselves. Now I'm going to ask the exact same questions and see if your partner can match your answers. Whoever answers the most questions about their partner correctly wins this week's food competition and will earn a free luxury dinner date in the backyard."

Clyde's stomach drops as he meekly raises his hand, "Um, can I switch partners?" he wonders. Next to him, Tweek frowns at the painful jab. "Can I give my spot to Craig?"

"Yeah, these pairs are terrible!" Stan agrees, crossing his arms in a huff as he sits next to an equally perturbed Craig in Booth 1, "It's like you're trying to make us suffer."

"Mission accomplished," Craig grumbles.

"Nope. Sorry, guys. Rules are rules," Token states, though his tone suggests that he is secretly enjoying this, "Now let's start the Newlywed Game! As I said before, whoever answers the most questions about their partner correctly wins this week's food competition. Each correct answer earns you a point. I will ring the bell every time one of your answers matches what your partner said. Whichever team reaches five points first is the winner. We'll go in the classic reverse Roy G. Biv order. Let's start with question one: What is your partner's favorite drink?" Token states, pausing slightly to give the houseguests time to scribble down their answers. Clyde looks up from his card as he nervously bites his lip and stares at Tweek, unsure whether he should willingly blow this competition or not, "Blue team, let's start with you," Token states, staring down at the pair in Booth 4. "Wendy, what is Cartman's favorite drink?"

"Um, I said chocolate milk," Wendy states, holding up her card.

"Chocolate milk? Are you kidding me?!" Cartman shouts, already red in the face as he sits next to her, "I haven't drunk that shit since I chugged Kenny's ashes!"

Token sighs, "Alright, Cartman. What did you put?"

"I put tequila," Cartman answers, lifting his card up boastfully, "Because this chick really needs to get that stick out of her ass and have some fun," he states smugly, earning a scowl from the hippie rights activist.

"And as a surprise to absolutely no one, the blue team has no points," Token sighs, already exhausted, "Green team, you're up. Clyde, what is Tweek's favorite drink?" Token asks, "This one should be a freebie."

"Oh, darn," Clyde says, pretending to be disappointed by this news, "I forgot about coffee. I accidentally wrote tea," he states, snapping his fingers. The bell chimes above him. "Wait, what?!"

"That is correct!" Token announces, "Tweek's favorite drink is tea."

Clyde turns to the right, locking eyes with his partner, "It is?" he squeaks, mouth agape. Tweek nods, "But-but I thought coffee was your favorite drink."

Tweek shrugs, "Just because I'm addicted to it doesn't mean it's my favorite, Clyde."

"Huh," Clyde replies, dumbstruck that Tweek is apparently more complex of an individual than he originally thought.

"Tweek, what did you write?" Token wonders.

"Oh! I put the Devil's Mistake," Tweek announces, quickly holding up his card, "which is what Clyde calls a mix of every single drink that they serve at McDonald's after he sets it out in the sun for a week. I even drew a picture, see?" Tweek states, holding the card up and tapping his finger against the stick figure drawing of Clyde passed out in a field of flowers. Clyde widens his eyes at Tweek's detailed answer.

The bell rings.

"Uh-huh," Token states, tapping his finger against the microphone, "Alright. Green team is up two to nothing. Let's move on to the yellow team. Bebe, what is Kyle's favorite drink?" he asks.

"Well, I didn't really know, so I just said something generic like hot chocolate," Bebe answers honestly.

"And I said that Bebe's favorite drink is the blood of her enemies cause I also didn't know," Kyle adds sheepishly.

Bebe smiles as she stares across at the card, "Hey, I like that," she states, hoping to make him feel better.

"Well, unfortunately, both of those answers are incorrect, which means you two are still tied at zero with the blue team."

"Ha ha! Yew guys suck!" Cartman mocks from the other end of the line.

Kyle growls, "You suck too, fatass!"

"Okay red team, you are the last team to answer before we move on to question two," Token tells them, mentally preparing himself for the insanity that is about to unfold, "Alright, Craig. What did you say Stan's favorite drink is?"

"Well Token," Craig begins, struggling to keep a smirk from erupting on his face, "I wrote Wendy's tears," he announces, holding up his card with emphasis.

"Wow. Real mature, Tucker," Stan states with an eye roll.

"Uh-huh," Craig says, still basking in his sarcastic jab, "And what did you write, Marsh?"

"I wrote Tweek's jiz," Stan smirks, tauntingly narrowing his eyes at him.

The bell chimes.

Stan turns to Craig, looking like he is about to vomit. "Jesus Christ, Craig!" he spews.

"It tastes like coffee, by the way," Craig states with a smirk.

Stan throws his head down on his lap, shaking his head in dismay, "Oh my God," he squeaks.

"The green team still leads by one as we approach the second question!" Token chimes through the loudspeaker.

"I don't care," Craig mutters.

Stan folds his arms as he leans back against the booth, "Shocker."

A few booths over, Clyde scoots closer to Tweek and lowers his voice to a whisper. "Tweek," he states, "are you seriously trying to win this thing?"

Tweek glances at Clyde and shrugs. "Token has good taste in food. Plus, it would be nice to win something for once. This is the first competition we've had here where I actually feel like I have a shot."

Clyde nods as Tweek returns to his original position. The brunette fiddles with the marker cap and gulps, guilt overtaking his stomach. "Well, now I have to try," he mutters.

"Question two: Name one of your partner's childhood pets," Token says, pausing for a moment before continuing, "Wendy, we'll start with you."

"Uh, Mr. Kitty?" Wendy guesses, holding up her card. She beams when the bell rings above her, "Yay! I got one."

"Cartman?" Token asks, turning his attention to the fatass.

"Well, I don't know enough about Wendy cause I really don't care about her in any way whatsoever, but I said cat," Cartman says, pausing and smiling excitedly as he waits for the bell. After five seconds of silence, he frowns. "Aye! She's got a pussy, doesn't she?" he cries, smirking a bit at his lame attempt at a joke.

"Ookay, moving on…" Token continues, moving to the green team.

"Um, well…I don't think Clyde had any pets," Tweek states, meekly holding up his empty card, "If he did, he didn't tell me about it."

"Well, I briefly had an imaginary dog for a week, but my dad didn't think I was responsible enough to take care of him," Clyde states, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. Tweek laughs.

"And Clyde, what did you say about Tweek?" Token wonders.

"I said he didn't have any pets either," Clyde says, turning to his partner. Tweek shakes his head.

"I had a parrot when I was eight or so. Sorry," Tweek squeaks.

"Green team remains in the lead with two points, cause apparently imaginary pets still count, as we move on to the yellow team," Token states over the loudspeaker, turning to Booth 2.

Bebe smiles as she holds up her card, "I said Mr. Hankey for my answer."

Kyle frowns, "Mr. Hankey's not really a pet, Bebe. He's more a devoted friend," he corrects her.

"God, you are such a dork," Cartman grumbles. Kyle shoots him a glare.

"Kyle, what did you say for this question?" Token asks.

"Um, well…does Clyde count as a pet?" Kyle questions. The bell rings above him. "Sweet."

"The yellow team is now tied with the red team and the blue team with one point, though the green team is still in the lead," Token reminds the contestants as he moves on to the last booth, "Alright Stan, name one of Craig's various childhood pets."

Stan sighs, "Well, he had about fifty Stripes," he states, not even flinching when the bell rings in response.

"Craig?"

Craig looks over at Stan, his face in a scowl. "I know this loser had a dog at some point. What was his name?" Craig states, rubbing his chin ponderously.

Stan cocks his forehead, growing more irritated by the second, "You don't know my dog's name?"

"I don't know. It's probably something stupid, like Sparky," Craig states, cringing when Token rings the bell. "Goddammit!"

"The red team is in the lead with three points, but it's still anybody's game!" Token declares, attempting to sound ecstatic before he moves to the next question.

Craig turns to Stan and glowers, throwing his arms out, "How the fuck are we winning? I want to blow this, Stan, I want to blow this hard!"

"Why the fuck are you blaming me? You think I seriously want to go on a date with you?!" Stan cries, "I'd rather vomit!"

Token clears his throat as he turns back to the blue team, "Question three: Besides their current partner, who was your partner's longest relationship?" he asks, giving the contestants time to guess and write down their answers. Clyde looks to Tweek and racks his brain for the answer, knowing the blonde really wants to win a competition for once. "Okay, Wendy. What did you put?"

Wendy caps her marker and smiles. "I put Heidi," she announces, proudly holding up her card to the camera, "cause I'm pretty sure that's the only relationship Cartman ever had."

"Aye! That is not true!" Cartman blares, crossing his arms over his chubby frame, "I dated plenty of hot chicks!"

"Oh, yeah," Bebe challenges from two booths next to him, "Name one."

Cartman ducks his chin and mumbles into his red jacket, "Kelly Pinkertonstinfurter," he says, barely above a whisper.

"Nuh-uh. Kelly said she hated you."

"FUCK YOU, BEBE! FUCK YOU, YOU STUPID BITCH!" Cartman fires, springing out of his seat to scream at her. He immediately sighs and sits back down, his demeanor instantly changing as his butt hits the chair and the bell rings above him. Cartman smiles and picks up his card. "Speaking of Bebe, I put her down as my answer," he states, proudly displaying his dusty-blue-colored card.

Wendy looks at him and sighs, her eyes still wide from his outburst, "Cartman, Bebe and I were never together."

"What?" he squeaks, "You mean you chicks aren't lesbos?"

"No!" Wendy cries, clearly offended.

"Then what was with the whole Wendyl thing?" he wonders.

"And, as a surprise to no one, the blue team continues to be a huge disappointment," Token states, before turning his attention to the green team. "Alright, Clyde. Other than the obvious Craig, who was Tweek's longest relationship?" he asks him.

Clyde sighs as he fiddles with his card. "Um…I put none," he answers honestly, holding up the card as he talks directly to Tweek, "I didn't think you dated anyone else."

Tweek smiles and lightly shakes his head, "Nope. Just Craig," he says. The bell chimes.

Stan tisks from Booth 1, "You poor thing," he states.

"And Tweek, what did you put?" Token wonders.

Tweek grins as he holds up his card, "I put Bebe." The bell rings once more.

"Excellent!" Token replies, "The green team now has four points, the red team has three, the blue team has two, and the yellow team has one as we turn to Kyle and Bebe," he recaps, staring down at the second booth. "Kyle, who did you say Bebe dated the longest?"

Kyle looks up at Bebe and smiles. "Well, I actually know this answer and it's Clyde," he states, proudly presenting his card. The bell chimes above them.

"Yes! We're not in last place!" Bebe cheers, before turning to give her best friend a sympathetic gaze. "Anyway, I put Douchebag for my answer," Bebe reveals, Kyle's face falling at the sight of her card, "Is that right?" she wonders.

Kyle weakly nods, his eyes trailing to the floor.

"Yay! I thought so," Bebe replies, "You really liked her."

"Dude," Stan states, leaning forward in his booth to stare at his super best friend, clearly puzzled, "I thought Douchebag was a guy."

"No, she's a girl," Kyle mutters, not even locking eyes with him, "She just wore a really big sweater."

Stan cocks his forehead, "'You sure?"

"Dude, I would know," Kyle leans forward, firmly matching his gaze.

"Wait. You slept with Douchebag?"

"Stan, not now," Kyle states, flushing lightly.

Stan's face darkens, "When was this?"

"What's it matter? We broke up," Kyle shrugs, grabbing his eraser and angrily erasing his whiteboard.

"I know, but God, Kyle, I never thought you'd be the type," he mutters, the sentence causing a wave of discomfort to wash over all the other housemates.

Kyle leans forward, narrowing his eyes at him, "What the hell does that mean?!"

"Ooh…yew guys. I think somebody's jealous!" Cartman leans back, practically singing in his seat.

"Shut up, Cartman!" Stan yells, before shifting his focus back to his best friend, "Kyle, why didn't you tell me?" he wonders.

Kyle moves back, anxiously shifting in his seat as everyone else in the backyard stares at him. "Oh my God, Stan. It's not a big deal," he hisses through his teeth.

"Yes, it is!" Stan cries, "You never did that stuff with me!" Stan pauses slightly as everyone's gaze shifts to him, looking both equally shocked and disgusted. Next to him, Craig raises his eyebrow. "-Not that you would cause obviously we're just friends," Stan backtracks. Kyle cocks his forehead at this news.

"Oh my God, yew guys, I just realized something," Cartman states, jumping in on yet another argument to throw his two cents in, "Kahl totally does have a fart fetish! I knew it. You did think my farts were yummy!" Cartman beams, sounding way too excited about this discovery as he points accusingly at the redhead.

Kyle sinks in his seat, turning beet red as he faceplants, "No, Cartman."

"Hey, Kiel. Are you turned on?" Cartman smirks, a shit-eating grin on his face, the fatass shimming in his seat as he unleashes a series of fart noises using his armpit, "Are you turned on yet, Kahl?"

Kyle groans and buries his face in his hands. "Someone please just kill me now," he mumbles.

Token clears his throat. This whole situation is awkward, but damn does it make good television. Token sighs as he moves on to the fourth and final group, "Alright everyone, here is where we stand. Right now, the green team is in the lead with four points, but Stan and Craig, if you guys both answer this question correctly, the red team will reach the coveted score of five points and you will win the date."

"Stan, I swear to God if you answer this right, I will hate you forever," Craig mutters to his rival.

"Right back at you, Tucker," Stan responds.

"So Stan," Token begins, all of the pairs now hanging on their every word, "other than Tweek, who was Craig's longest relationship?"

Stan sighs as he picks up his answer card, "I put what's her name."

The bell rings as Craig waves it off, "Yeah, I didn't know her name either," he adds.

"Okay, Craig, for the game-winning point and as much as I hate to ask, what did you answer?" Token asks him.

Craig reaches down, smiling smugly as he proudly holds up his card, "I put Stan's hand, a.k.a. Kyle," he grins, Stan grimacing at his answer.

"Stan," Wendy speaks up from the opposite end of the wall, "what does that mean?"

"Clyde, don't cry at this, but the red team wins!" Token announces.

Clyde cocks his forehead, "Why would I cry? I am not sensitive, Token."

"Clyde, you cried the first time we slept together," Bebe speaks up from the third booth.

"Because it started snowing!" Clyde defends, crossing his arms, already tearing up at the thought.

"Congratulations, Stan and Craig! You have won the food competition and the luxury dinner date in the Big Brother backyard!" Token cheers. The bell rings above the winning team, causing both ravens to gaze up in horror at the announcement. Stan and Craig erupt into a string of coughs as a buttload of red confetti shoots up from the confetti cannons attached to the front of their booth and rains down on them.

Craig groans as he angrily brushes a bunch of the confetti off his torso, "Of course we did," he mutters, standing up and turning to face his partner. "Stan, I know I'm being forced to have dinner with you tonight, but I am banging my boyfriend the second it's over," he tells him, before storming off.

Stan nods as he clears his throat, "Duly noted," he replies.

"Stan Marsh is a twenty-one-year-old man who just won a date with his rival," the goofy voiceover guy's voice blares over the loudspeaker, complete with cheery music in the background. Stan winces at the man's nails-on-a-chalkboard shrill before glaring up at the nearest loudspeaker, "The only problem is, his rival has a boyfriend," the voice announces, quickly removing the needle from the record for a moment then switching to another song, "Now he's about to discover that dating a taken gay guy is not all it's cracked up to be. Stan Marsh is...a homewrecker! Rated PG-13."

"Oh my God, will you please quit following me around?!" Stan screams at the heavens.

"You know, I learned something today," Kyle somberly states as he stands up from his booth with Bebe. Wendy glares at Kyle as he joins the others in the center of the backyard.

Cartman rolls his eyes, "Oh boy, here we go!" he complains, turning to the right. Cartman stops, raising an eyebrow when he sees Clyde conversing with Tweek away from the crowd. Cartman scans the area and discreetly inches over to them.

"Well," Clyde states shyly, nervously rolling on the back of his feet, "I guess you do pay attention to what I say after all."

Tweek smiles, still beaming as he hugs his cards, "Of course I do, Clyde. You're really interesting."

Clyde blushes at the compliment, his face burning up. "Sorry we didn't win, Tweek," Clyde says sincerely, having a hard time matching his crush's gaze, "I know how much you really wanted to win this thing."

"It's okay. I just had a fun time hanging out with you," Tweek grins. Clyde's eyes shoot open; he stares lustfully up at Tweek.

"Oh my God, he's so adorable," Clyde mutters under his breath.

Tweek cocks his forehead, noticing Clyde's change in demeanor, but he can't pinpoint exactly what has changed in his friend. "Uh, everything okay, Clyde?"

"What?" Clyde squeaks, quickly shaking his head and snapping back to reality. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he states, "I – uh, had a fun time with you too."

The camera pans to Cartman as he stands nearby, a devious smirk spreading across his face while he watches the conversation intently. He rubs his chin, a sinister shine in his eyes. "Oh, this is too good," he snickers.

Chapter Text

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

Well, I won a date with Stan this evening, so that's nightmare-inducing. On the plus side though – for him, not me – Stan scored a date with the second hottest person in this house. Good for him.

…

Craig and Tweek are situated alone in the girls room, ten minutes before Craig's dinner date with Stan. Tweek is sitting on their makeshift double bed while Craig is standing in front of him, dressed in a white wrinkled mess of a shirt and a pair of blue boxer shorts.

Tweek cocks his forehead as he scans his boyfriend over, "That's what you're wearing to your dinner with Stan?"

Craig shrugs, "What's wrong with it?"

"Well, you can at least put some pants on," Tweek states, pointing to Craig's lower half.

"Why?" Craig asks, gesturing towards his crotch, "Now he can gauge how well the date is going."

Tweek laughs and playfully bats Craig's leg, his face flushing. "How did you ever make it past date one with me?"

"Because you love me," Craig coos with a toothy grin.

"Exactly," Tweek states through a giggle, "And that's why you need to put pants on."

Craig shrugs and moseys over to the hamper, rifling through his big mass of dirty clothes for a better option. He finds a tan pair and holds them up to the blonde. "How about this one? It has a questionable stain on it," Craig states flatly.

"Craig, you're going out with one of the most popular men in our town. You should at least try to look presentable."

"Who? Stan?" Craig states, plopping down on the bed next to his boyfriend with a smirk. He turns to him, "At first, I thought you were describing me for a second, but I quickly caught onto it after you forgot the word 'asshole'," Craig says, patting him on the knee when he sees Tweek's face fall. Craig stands up and slips the pants on before leaning into his boyfriend, "Well, okay, babe. If you really want me to take this seriously, then I won't rest until he's naked and writhing under me!" Craig declares, pointing his finger dramatically towards the ceiling. He leans forward and kisses Tweek on the cheek. "Thanks, honey," he beams.

Tweek turns to the side, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree as he watches Craig exit through the door. "That's not what I meant!" he shrieks.

…

Clyde sighs as he stands in front of the grand HOH door, his mind going a mile a minute after Cartman asked to meet with him. Clyde carefully knocks on the door, slowly swinging it open when Cartman grants him access. "You wanted to see me?" he states, poking his head in the doorway.

"Yes, Clyde. Have a seat. We need to talk," Cartman says into the shadows.

Clyde steps into the dimly-lit room, slowly closing the door behind him. He sweatdrops as he eyes Cartman's chair turned away from the door, the fatass dramatically petting the framed picture of Mr. Kitty on his lap.

"Oh God…" Clyde squeaks, scurrying over to take a seat on the bed.

"Aye! Not on the bed!" Cartman blares, "The maids just washed it!"

Clyde quickly gets up and plops down on an adjacent chair, feeling more on-edge than he did a minute ago as the room fills with silence.

Finally, after five minutes that felt like an eternity, Cartman opens his mouth to speak. "Your crush isn't Wendy, is it, Clyde?" Cartman questions.

Clyde gulps, blushing furiously as he attempts to play dumb, "What are you talking about?"

Cartman slowly stands up, the chair giving a horrifying screech as he shifts his weight off it. He gingerly paces over to the dresser, his hands clasped behind his back. "You know, it must be awkward always being in Craig's shadow. I just never knew one day you'd crack and want to bang his man," he coos, swiveling around and peering into his eyes.

Clyde clenches the arms of his chair, pushing himself up slightly, "Now, wait just a minute here-"

"Admit it, Clyde," Cartman states with a point, the harshness of his tone causing the brunette to sit back down in his chair, "You want to be Craig Tucker. It's what you've always wanted!"

"What? No! Of course not!"

"Then why do you like the spaz?" Cartman coos, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watches Clyde squirm.

"I-I don't know!" Clyde confesses through bated breath, "I just really want to stop. Are you going to help me or not?"

"Maybe…" Cartman smirks, "…but first I want to have a little fun with this…"

"No," Clyde firmly states, hoping to shut this down quick.

"Come on Clyde, try seeing this from my point of view," Cartman states, stopping in front of Clyde's chair and staring down at him, "How many times am I going to have this level of emotional blackmail on someone?"

Clyde grits his teeth as he glares up at him, "You promised you would keep this between us!"

"I don't remember agreeing to that," Cartman replies, "but if I did, that was before I realized what this could do for me," he coos, lovingly touching himself on the shoulders, "Besides, it's not my fault you have a boner for taken blondes," Clyde shivers, "And now that I know you like Craig's boyfriend – you know, Craig: your best friend, your leader, the one who saved your life last week?" Cartman reminds him, "I know you'll do anything to keep me from telling him that you want Tweek."

"It doesn't matter if you tell him or not, Cartman. He won't believe you," Clyde retorts with a shudder, though it's clear Clyde doesn't fully believe these words, "And even if he did, he wouldn't hurt me."

"Yes," Cartman states with an eye roll as he plops back into his chair, "cause clearly a guy who ripped someone's leg off for merely flirting with his partner would have a lot of self-control over your predicament. Oh, this is too delicious," Cartman states, licking his lips as he leans back in his seat in satisfaction.

…

Ten minutes later, Craig steps out onto the back patio. He cringes when he sees the backyard all decked out in romantic décor, a lone velvet-draped table situated in the center of the deck. Craig grunts as he approaches the table, where an equally-perturbed Stan is sitting, looking as if he is about to vomit at any moment. Stan smirks slightly when he locks eyes with his rival. "Wow, Craig. I'm surprised you actually dressed up for this."

"Well, I wanted to come in just my underwear," Craig states, swinging his chair back and taking a seat on its cushion, "but I thought I would be nice and spare you the embarrassment for once."

"So…Tweek told you not to?" Stan grins.

Craig nods, purposely knocking the rose centerpiece over with his knuckle, "Pretty much."

The pair sit in silence, listening to the crickets chirping around them as they wait for this date to be over.

"So…um…" Stan begins, scrunching his forehead and tapping the table as he struggles to come up with a conversation topic, "Is this your first date in a while?"

"Once you reach the ten-year mark, you don't really go on official dates anymore. It's great," Craig states with a nod, "What about you? This is probably your tenth one today," he smirks.

Stan narrows his eyes at him, "And what the hell does that mean?"

"You know exactly what that means, Marsh. You're juggling two lovers that I know of, and I'm sure you already have a few people lined up to be your third," he quips.

Stan rolls his eyes, "You're such an asshole, Craig. I don't know why Tweek puts up with you."

"It's because I'm an amazing lay," he states, as deadpan as ever.

…

Tweek Tweak
Extreme Coffee Addict

Tonight is Craig's date with Stan, so I'm actually not sure what I'm going to do with my free time this evening. It seems like whenever Craig's not around, people just swarm over to talk to me. It's really strange.

…

Tweek is sitting on his bed in the girls room in the midst of his twelfth attempt to successfully complete Jacob's Ladder in Cat's cradle. Tweek groans and gives a heavy twitch. He sighs as he stares down at the tangled string that is now in his hands, completely oblivious to the blonde staring at him from across the room.

"Hey Tweek," Bebe states from her bed, "can I play with your hair?"

Tweek turns to her and shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Why not?" he says, still struggling to untangle his fingers.

"Yay!" Bebe cheers. She plops onto the bed and gets behind him, fiddling with his blonde locks.

"Hey, guys," Kyle greets, poking his head in as he knocks on the open door, "I don't want to hang out with Cartman. His ego grew to the size of this house. Can I hang here with you guys?"

"Sure, come on!" Bebe beams, moving over so Kyle can join them on the double bed.

Kyle sits down next to Tweek and hands him a shoe. Tweek takes it from him, examining the item curiously.

"What's this?" Tweek wonders.

"It's Craig's shoe. He threw it through the window," Kyle answers, "I think he was trying to hit Stan."

Tweek sighs, not even slightly surprised by this information. "Of course he was," he mutters.

A few minutes later, Tweek looks up from his Cat's cradle only to find Kyle, Wendy, and Bebe all sitting within five feet of him – the group playing Sorry! in the center of his bed. Tweek notices Wendy giving Kyle the evil eye right before she takes her turn. Tweek locks eyes with a camera and shrugs.

"1…2…3…sorry, Bebe!" Wendy apologizes, moving her best friend's piece with her own.

Bebe laughs. "It's okay!" she chimes as Clyde stands off to the side, unnoticed, lingering in the doorway.

…

Clyde Donovan
Human Garbage Disposal

Well, Cartman is blackmailing me, so now I'm potentially screwed unless I fuss up and tell either Craig or Tweek about my crush. Since Tweek is the less scary option, I think I'm going to tell him…as soon as I find my confidence. The key to confidence is to not give a fuck. Craig has this mastered to a "T", but unfortunately, I haven't gotten there yet and something tells me I won't get there in the next five seconds. (sighs) Either way, it's now or never…and oh, how I wish it could be never.

…

Later, after the trio have finished their game of Sorry! and left the room for some victory snacks, Tweek is sitting alone in the girls room still trying to untangle his Cat's cradle from his hands. Clyde smiles as he pokes his head in the doorway, his heart skipping a beat as he eyes his friend.

"Hey," Clyde greets, carrying a single plate behind his back.

Tweek shrieks and jumps up slightly, the string flying off his hands and onto the floor. "Oh, hey, Clyde," Tweek greets, his heart rate going down when he sees it's just him.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," Tweek nods with a smile, "It's your room."

Clyde sighs, nervously scratching the back of his neck as he slips in through the doorway. "I just-um," he begins, stopping in front of the blonde, "look, I felt bad about losing the competition today, so…I made you something," he confesses, meekly pulling the plate from behind his back and holding it out to him.

"Clyde," Tweek's face softens, "it's okay. You didn't have to do that." Tweek's eyes widen as he gazes down at the pastry situated in the plate's center, "Oh my God, is that strawberry?!"

"Yes. I know it's your favorite," Clyde says, wondering if he sounds as awkward as he feels, "at least I got that one right," he laughs before Tweek eagerly takes the plate from him.

"Wow! This looks great-" Tweek beams, stopping before taking a bite, hovering the pastry inches from his mouth, "Wait. This isn't filled with poison, is it?" he asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

Clyde laughs, finding his Tweekisms a bit endearing, "Tweek, I would never try to poison my friends."

"You know Clyde, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were trying to seduce me," Tweek jokes, taking a bite of the pastry.

Clyde's eyes widen like saucers, this accusation shocking him to his core. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Tweek!" he cries, his face filling with shame at how his act may have come across, "I-I should go-"

"Clyde, relax," Tweek states, Craig-level calm as he gently pats his friend's arm, "It was a joke."

Clyde squeaks and quickly retracts his hand, his limb burning from Tweek's touch. "Still, I should take this back. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea," he cries, grabbing the plate and pulling it back with a tug. Clyde sweatdrops as Tweek refuses to budge.

"Clyde, don't be ridiculous. It's just a pastry," Tweek says, tugging the plate back.

"Tweek, come on. Let go!" Clyde pleads, tugging the plate towards his chest. The plate moves back and forth as the pair get into a rather aggressive tug of war with it.

"No. This is the best thing I've eaten all day!" Tweek cries, heaving the plate back, accidentally pulling Clyde forward. The brunette loses his footing and falls on top of him. Clyde's face flushes, not even registering the sound of the plate hitting the floor as he stares down at Tweek, whose face is a mere two inches from his own.

"Man, Tweek," Cartman states, clearing his throat from the doorway as the pair continue staring intensely at each other, "Craig's only been gone for an hour, and you already have his best friend sweating on top of you," he tisks, shaking his head as he moseys down the hallway, Clyde's blush intensifying as the footsteps get further away.

All of a sudden, Tweek grabs Clyde by the midsection and flips him over, tackling him to the bed. Clyde sweatdrops as Tweek throws his arms up in victory.

"I won!" Tweek beams, a smile spreading across his face as he picks up the pastry from the floor, "Wow. I can't believe I'm strong enough to pin Clyde Donovan!"

Clyde gives a mouse-like squeak beneath him, his knees growing weak as he stares up at his crush, remembering why he wanted to talk to him so badly in the first place, "Hey, Tweek?" Clyde gulps.

"Yeah?" Tweek states, tossing the pastry into the nearest trashcan before staring down at Clyde with his big blue eyes.

Clyde swallows, his throat parched while he thinks over all the ways this could potentially lead to heartache, "Never mind."

…

Fifteen minutes later, Tweek is lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling, his mind going a mile a minute as he ponders over his awkward encounter with Clyde. Tweek sits up in his bed and scans the room, finding Wendy reading on her bed in the corner. He sighs and gets up, carefully tiptoeing over to the dresser beside her. He ducks behind it. "Wendy! Wendy!" Tweek whisper shouts. Wendy looks up from her book, tilting her forehead as she watches Tweek frantically wave her over with both hands, "I need your help."

"Tweek?" she squeaks.

Tweek nods, "Meet me in the storage room in five minutes. Don't bring anyone but yourself."

A few minutes later, Wendy taps on the storage room door and cautiously steps into the room, making sure that she isn't followed in. She softly closes the door behind her, Tweek already pacing wildly in the center of the room.

"Great! You made it," Tweek beams, stopping in place when he sees her, "I need your help," he repeats, "Something strange has been happening around here and I need a girl's opinion. And since you're a – ngh! – reliable, honest person, I thought maybe you could help me," he says, fiddling with his hands as his gaze drifts to the floor.

"Okay," Wendy agrees, not having to think twice about helping her friend, "What's up?"

Tweek sighs, "Well, call me crazy, but Clyde's been acting really weird lately."

Wendy cocks her forehead, "How so?"

Tweek clears his throat, "Well, he's been avoiding me all week, and when he does hang around me, he acts like his brain is being controlled by aliens," he explains, "Then about a half hour ago, he came into my room with this pastry. I think he was trying to give me diabetes."

"Uh-huh," Wendy states, attempting to follow Tweek's thought process.

"After thinking this over, I've realized there's only one logical explanation…Clyde likes Craig and he's trying to get rid of me so he doesn't have any competition for him," he cries, holding his hands up to his face like The Scream.

"What?"

"Yeah, I know it sounds crazy. I mean, just because he's been actively staying away from me and acting really weird all week doesn't mean he's plotting to kill me," Tweek rambles, pacing the floor as he fiddles with his hands once more, "And that wouldn't explain the awkward boner he got when I pinned him down earlier. At least I know I can take him if he tries to attack me-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Tweek. Hang on. Back up," Wendy butts in, holding her hand out to stop him, "You're going too fast. Are you saying Clyde was coming onto you?"

Tweek shakes his head, "No, what are you talking about? I told you it was clear that Clyde's trying to kill me because he likes Craig," he blinks.

Wendy scrunches her forehead, really thinking all of this new information through, "Yeah…that isn't what it sounds like, Tweek. Based on what you've told me, I think you're the object of his affections."

"What? No. That's ridiculous, Wendy!" Tweek squeaks, flushing slightly at the thought, "Did you even hear a word I said?"

"Yes, and I've noticed the way he's been acting around you this week," Wendy elaborates, "Face it, Tweek, he wants you."

"He does not want me. Would a guy who wants me listen to me ramble about North Korea for three hours?" Tweek stops in place and folds his arms, his face turning ghost white as his eyes widen like saucers in daunting realization. "Oh God, he does want me," he squeaks and plops down on the floor, burying his face in his hands.

Wendy takes a seat down next to him, wrapping an arm around her friend. She pulls Tweek into a comforting side hug as she gently pats his shoulder, "Well, it wouldn't be the strangest thing that's happened in this house for sure."

"Oh God, Craig is going to kill him," Tweek mutters, therapeutically running his fingers over his nose and forehead.

"Craig? Forget Craig for a moment, Tweek. What are you going to do?"

Tweek sighs, his eyes trailing to the floor, "I don't know," he states, hugging his knees to his chest, "I've never been in this position before," he pauses, letting out a heavy breath, "Just promise me you won't tell anyone until we figure this whole thing out."

"You don't need to tell me twice. I promise I won't say a word to anyone. Not even Bebe," Wendy promises.

…

"…then Nelly asked me out – the Nelly, the girl everyone wanted to get with at the party," Stan brags, handing the waiter his empty dinner plate.

Craig groans and faceplants onto the edge of the table, "Oh God, make it stop," he moans, covering his face with his fingers.

Stan raises an eyebrow at him. "What's your problem?"

"You. You're the fuckin' problem, Marsh," Craig answers, for once having a hard time staying monotone as he sits up and locks eyes with him, "Oh my God, I've never met anyone as full of themselves as you," he informs him, throwing his arms out, "How the hell do you have two lovers? Cause it's not cause of your personality, that's for sure."

"What do you know about having a personality, Tucker?" Stan counters, leaning back in his chair to shoot his rival a glare, "Wheat toast has more of a personality than you. I think you're just jealous because you know that you could never be like me."

"Thank God!" Craig cries, throwing his arms up, "Because if I was like you, I don't know how I would constantly resist the urge to punch myself in the face," Craig scans the backyard as he impatiently taps the tabletop, "God, when is this nightmare going to be over? I wanna hang out with someone sane."

"Me too," Stan adds with a sigh, "I promised Kyle we'd make out tonight. I think today is finally the day we're going to go all the way."

Craig makes a face. "If you say so," he mutters, turning towards the back door.

Stan tilts his forehead, narrowing his eyes at him, "And what does that mean?" he wonders.

Craig turns back in his seat, releasing a heavy sigh as he stares at his rival. "Look Stan, if you want my opinion – which, come on, who doesn't? – you're never going to be Kyle's number one. He's too hung up on what's her name."

"What? No, he's not."

"Oh come on," Craig states, rolling his eyes, "even Cartman can see it and he barely pays attention to anyone but himself. You're always going to be number two in Kyle's book, which is totally fair in my opinion because he's at least second in yours."

"That is not true. I care about Kyle a lot. He's my best friend!" Stan outbursts.

Craig stares up at the sky, "Yeah, your best friend who you're two-timing with your girlfriend. If you really cared about him so much, you would've broken up with Wendy before you made moves on him," he states, avidly tapping the tabletop.

"You know, you sure give a lot of relationship advice for someone who's only dated one guy," Stan states with an eye roll, "Besides, you can't honestly tell me that you haven't at least been tempted by someone else."

"Stan, dating someone as amazing as Tweek is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I would be insane to do anything that could jeopardize my relationship," Craig responds, looking at Stan like he's crazy.

Stan snickers, "That's funny."

Craig narrows his eyes at him, "Why is that funny?" he wonders, already sick of hearing Stan's voice.

"Cause your best friend's been ogling him under your nose all week."

"What?" Craig cries, "The fuck are you talking about, Marsh?"

Stan sighs and rolls his eyes, before leaning forward over the table, "Come on, you can't honestly tell me that you haven't noticed Clyde trying to make moves on your boyfriend. He acts like a total idiot around him."

"Clyde's always like that. It's part of his personality," Craig counters.

"If you say so," Stan smirks, satisfied as he uses Craig's own words against him while he scans his rival's expression, "but if you ask me, you seem kinda worried."

"I'm not worried," Craig states, "I trust Tweek."

"Do you trust Clyde?"

Craig pauses and stares off into the distance, death gripping his fork in his hand as he thinks this question over. "Yes," he says finally.

Stan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his torso. "Yeah, your answer definitely exudes confidence," he spits out sarcastically, his expression softening a tad when he sees the distraught look on Craig's face. Stan sighs, "Look, do you want relationship advice?" he offers.

"From you?" Craig speaks up, raising an eyebrow, "No. That's like getting advice on how to be a good person from Cartman," he snaps, "Besides, Clyde would never do that to me. We've been friends since we were five, and we don't have any hidden deception like your group does."

"Yeah, I thought it was kinda sucky, especially since he knows how hard you took it that week you and Tweek were broken up," Stan replies, fiddling with his fork. He glances forward, somewhat surprised that, for once, Craig doesn't have a retort. Stan sighs, "Look, all I know is that I caught Clyde looking at Tweek's ass more times than I caught you this week," he confesses as the waiter approaches them, carrying their desserts, "And if you don't find that concerning, then you're in denial, Tucker."

The waiter steps forward and places the desserts in front of the winning pair. Stan and Craig stare somberly down at their untouched plates, both feeling surprising empty for people who just stuffed themselves with food.

"Man, this date really sucked," Craig sighs, the pair mulling over their turbulent relationships. Stan nods.

…

Later that night, Craig sneaks back into the girls room, his mind still reeling over his disaster date with Stan. Craig slowly pushes open the door, smiling when he sees Tweek waiting for him, the blonde having fallen asleep on their bed in the process, using his hands as a pillow. Craig steps forward and delicately shakes him awake. "Hey, I'm back," Craig whispers.

Tweek jerks awake. "Oh. Craig," he yawns, turning onto his back and rolling over the Sorry! board. He sits up and stretches his arms out, "How was the date? Kyle found your shoe," Tweek states, taking the item out from underneath the bed and handing it to his boyfriend.

Craig blinks, turning the shoe over in his hand, "Yep. That's it alright," he confirms, seemingly proud of this fact. He sets it back down on the floorboard, "But, to answer your question, the date was absolutely horrible. Stan is so full of himself, I couldn't even make it to the main course without my eyes hurting from all the eye rolling," Craig stops at the side of the bed, leans forward, and wraps his arms around Tweek, holding him close, "I'm so happy I'm dating you. And today I decided that I'm not going to date anyone but you for the rest of my life. I made that decision as soon as Stan opened his mouth and spoke."

Tweek laughs as he pulls back, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Craig smiles, stopping at the foot of his bed. He leans forward and grabs both of Tweek's hands, softly clasping them in his own, "I'm surprised you were asleep. Usually you can't sleep well without me."

"I cut down on the caffeine and social interaction makes me tired," Tweek shrugs, squeezing him back, "Call it my inner introvert." Tweek scoots back a bit on the bed before gazing up at Craig lustfully, "Now, let's see if I can still salvage the evening for you," he coos, eagerly pulling Craig on top of him.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

One of the many great things about dating Tweek, other than him basically being a human furnace in the winter, is that I never need an alarm clock.

…

Tweek nudges the door open and turns on the light, dressed in his everyday attire. He calmly steps into the girls room, closes the door, and stops in the middle of the sea of occupied beds, where three of his housemates are currently residing. He takes in a deep breath. "WAHHHHH!" he screams at the top of his lungs, waking everyone up from their peaceful slumbers.

Wendy groans as she sits up on her bed, tiredly rubbing her eyes as Bebe turns over in her adjacent bed, "9 a.m. already?" she squeaks, "Wow. I must've overslept." The girls slowly climb out of bed and walk to their respective dressers, preparing to get ready for the day.

Tweek takes a few steps forward, giving a satisfied smile at a job well done, and turns to Craig, who hasn't stirred much since the outburst. Tweek gazes curiously down at his boyfriend, who is still lying facedown on their bed.

"Uh, Craig? Didn't you hear me? Big Brother wants us up," Tweek states.

Craig rolls onto his back and yawns. He grabs Tweek by the arm and yanks him forward, pulling him onto the bed and into a bear hug. Craig lovingly pets his hair and sighs, the couple now both lying on the mattress.

"Shh…if we're quiet, maybe Token will think we're still asleep," Craig tells him.

"Craig, I know you're not asleep. I can see you," Token's voice blares over the loudspeaker.

Craig yawns and turns to the side. "Where's the snooze button?" he mutters, his hand trailing down Tweek's back. Craig squeezes his butt, causing the twitchy blonde to squeak and blush furiously. "Ah, there it is," he gently sighs.

…

Meanwhile, Stan and Kyle are in the boys room sleeping in their beds, the latter completely oblivious to the fact that a certain fatass is perched on the edge of his bed, hovering over him. Cartman chuckles lightly as he leans forward and whispers menacingly into his rival's face. "That's right, sleep my little prince," Cartman states soothingly, "cause I've got news for you, Kiel. You're never going to get a cent of my money," Cartman coos, "I've got a little plan going for me to screw you over without you ever knowing!"

Stan groans as he sits up in his bed with a slight case of bedhead. He turns and glares at the fatass, "Cartman? Get the hell off Kyle's bed," he moans, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

…

A few hours later, Craig is standing against the hallway wall facing the living room, conversing with his boyfriend. Craig stands upright, taking his foot off the wall when Clyde walks into the living room. Craig narrows his eyes at the brunette, the stoic on high-alert as he subtly starts watching Clyde's every move.

"…but I really think with enough practice, I'll be able to play the whole thing by next summer," Tweek beams, pausing slightly when he sees the fiercely determined look on his boyfriend's face, "Um…Craig? Are you alright? You seem distracted."

"Huh?" Craig replies, still heavily observing their fellow group member. He stares down at Tweek, sighing when he sees the worried look gracing the blonde's face. "Yeah," Craig assures him with a smile, "You're just really cute, babe."

Craig narrows his eyes as he sees Clyde approaching them. Craig gently pushes Tweek against the wall and starts making out with him, causing the latter to release a startled squeak, his boyfriend catching him by surprise. It doesn't take long for Tweek to wrap his arms around him, reciprocating the gesture as he melts into his kisses. Clyde flinches, turning away from the sight.

"Hey, guys," Clyde awkwardly greets as he walks by them, complete with a hand wave.

Craig pulls away as Clyde departs, both severely out of breath from the session. Tweek smiles as he gazes lovingly up at Craig, still dazed from his boyfriend's spontaneity. He rests his palm against Craig's chest as Craig protectively holds him. "Jesus, Craig," Tweek gushes, his head spinning, "Who knew you liked piano talk so much?"

Across the room, Wendy is cuddling with her boyfriend on the sofa, trying her best to push all the negative thoughts about him potentially cheating on her out of her mind. She sighs as she rests her head on his shoulder, "I love you, Stan."

"I love you too, Kyle," Stan's eyes widen, quickly covering his hand over his mouth at his slip-up, but it's too late, the words already caught the attention of everyone in the room. Most of the housemates are flashing their "Oh shit!" faces, minus Craig, who is visibly cringing at his rival's antics.

"So, it is true. You are cheating on me with Kyle!" Wendy fires, springing up out of her seat and glaring daggers at Stan, "How could you do this to me?! Did our relationship mean nothing to you?! Cause it meant a lot to me!" Wendy confesses, before bursting into tears and racing out of the room.

Stan stands up, reaching his hand out as he attempts to run after her, "Wendy-" Bebe steps in front of Stan, blocking his path. The curly-haired blonde shoots him a piercing glare before racing after her best friend to comfort her.

Stan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he feels a massive headache coming on.

"Well, Stan," Kyle huffs, the redhead propped up against the back wall next to him, unnoticed until this moment, his face firm after hearing every word. Kyle sighs as he pushes himself off and takes a step over to him, "I don't know why I'm so surprised cause apparently we're not even together according to you. You told Token I was your longest past relationship yesterday. What? Are you embarrassed of me? Do you think I'm not good enough to date the astounding Stan Marsh?" he spits, venom in his voice.

Stan's face softens as he turns to him, "Kyle-"

"You know what? Don't try to humor me, Stan," Kyle states, holding his hand up to stop him, "I see the writing on the wall. You think I'm too much of a train wreck to handle any kind of relationship with you. That's it, isn't it? Isn't it?"

"No," Stan quickly answers, completely oblivious that the entire house – minus Wendy and Bebe – are watching this scene unfold, "And if you just stopped and listened to me for five seconds, I would be able to explain it to you."

"Save it. I don't want to hear any more lies from you! I'm done getting hurt, and I'm done with you!" Kyle yells, pacing away from Stan slightly. He turns back around and glares up at him, "And you want to know what the worst part is? You knew it. You knew it all. You knew how much I was hurting and you still did it anyway!" Kyle cries, tears in his eyes, "Fuck you, Stan!" he shouts, storming away from him.

"Kyle, come on," Stan pleads, while Eric stands nearby watching, just eating this argument up. The fatass even takes out a tub of popcorn and starts shoveling the snack into his mouth, "It wasn't supposed to be this way!"

"Really?" Kyle squeaks, swinging on his heels and stomping back to him, "Then enlighten me. How was it supposed to be? Was I just supposed to stay your secret lover forever while you publicly date the prettiest girl in South Park?"

Stan cocks his forehead, "You think Wendy is pretty?"

Kyle steps back, flushing slightly but still on the edge of hysteria. "That isn't the point, Stan! The point is you lied to me and led me on for four months!"

Stan stumbles backwards, racking his brain trying to come up with a suitable response to save his friendship. After a few moments of Kyle stewing at his silence, Stan speaks up with a grunt. "You know what? It's not my fault that you're afraid of letting people in! You think just because you got burned before that it's just going to keep happening again and again. You never give anyone a chance!" he screams.

Kyle turns around, his back to Stan as he stares at the carpet. He sighs, letting Stan's words soak into his brain, a conflicted look spread across his face. "Oh, I'm sorry," Kyle spews, getting back in his best friend's face, "Please enlighten me on how I should be living my life – after all, your life is the epitome of perfection!"

Stan huffs and folds his arms over his chest, "You know Kyle, you'd think after four failed relationships, you would start to see that you're the common denominator."

"Oh, so now it's my fault that you cheated on me? You know Stanley, this is so like you. Always pushing the blame onto someone else cause, in your eyes, you can do no wrong. You're almost as bad as Cartman!" Kyle declares, quickly locking eyes with the grinning fat boy, "I said almost," he clarifies, pushing Cartman's gigantic ego down a peg.

"So I'm full of myself, huh, Kyle?" Stan responds, fuming at his super best friend's insult, "You know what? You're right. And that's exactly why I don't want to date someone else's damaged goods. We never had a chance, and you want to know why? Cause you're still fuckin' hung up on her!" Stan cries, his accusation piercing Kyle to his core, the mere mention of Douchebag causing the other housemates to wince, "Yeah, she dumped you and that sucks, but you can't just shut down and push everyone else out. One of these days you're just going to have to get over it!" he yells, taking a step closer to him as Kyle stares at the floor, "I was a distraction to you. You think I don't know that? And don't you dare try to tell me that you wouldn't have dumped me on the spot if she wanted you back."

Kyle sighs, tears in his eyes as he finds the courage to look up at him. "You don't know that," Kyle mutters through labored breath, "And now you never will," he storms off. Everyone watches intently as Kyle stops in the center of the empty hallway and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out the silver necklace, gazes down at it, and sighs, before gripping it tightly in his palm. Kyle breaks down and sobs.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Know-it-all

I guess I shouldn't be surprised by this. (wipes tears away from eyes) I mean, I haven't had the best luck with relationships. First there was Rebecca, then Leslie, then of course Douchebag… (pauses, a new crop of tears forming in his eyes) – Oh God. Why do I do this to myself?

…

Stan Marsh
Cheater Pants

Kyle is such a crybaby. He doesn't know what the hell he wants, and he's blaming me for his shortcomings? Come on man, take some freakin' responsibility for your own actions!

…

Eric Cartman
Harmful Spectator

Oh my God, yew guys, the house mood is so miserable now. I hope it lasts. (pulls out tub of popcorn and shoves more into his mouth)

…

Early that afternoon, Craig is sitting on his bed, leaning his back against the wall in the girls room as Tweek sits in front of him, the former acting particularly withdrawn ever since he found out about Clyde. Craig is so hurt by Clyde's betrayal, that he almost can't believe it. Tweek is tense as well about the discovery he made with Wendy yesterday, but, like usual, most of his tension fades away when he is around his boyfriend.

Tweek sighs as he scoots closer to Craig on the bed. He reaches up and grabs his cheeks, cradling Craig's face in his hands. "Craig, are you okay?" Tweek asks sweetly, "I just said the term 'backdoor romp' and you didn't even giggle."

Craig swallows, struggling to get out of his own head. "I'm fine, Tweek," Craig states, as monotone as he can muster, "I just got a lot on my mind."

"It's me, isn't it?" Tweek speaks into the silence, "I did something wrong."

"No, no. Come on babe, when is it ever you?" Craig quickly responds, pulling Tweek into a hug and holding him close before his boyfriend can jump to the worst conclusions. Tweek sighs soothingly as he rests his head on Craig's chest.

"I love you, Craig," he muffles into his shirt, "You know that, right?" Tweek wonders, lifting his head up to meet his gaze, "I would never leave you for another man – especially not anyone in this house."

Craig's stomach drops at the add-in, "Well, that's oddly specific."

Tweek tenses up, darting his eyes as he presses his palm against Craig's chest, "No, it's not," he states, sweating profusely.

"You're right," Craig swiftly responds, trying to convince himself he's overreacting, "I was just being paranoid," he says, giving Tweek's arm a few gentle strokes. Craig sighs, "I love you too, honey."

…

An hour later, Wendy is sitting on her bed in the girls room, looking visibly broken and staring off into space as she rips up another picture of her ex-boyfriend. The house has been eerily silent since Stan ruined two of his relationships. Wendy watches as Craig walks out the door to use the shower, leaving just herself and Tweek in the room. Her gaze hovers to the blonde.

"Hey, Tweek? Can you come here a minute? I need a hug," she states, extending her arms out.

"Sure," Tweek replies, getting up from his bed. He walks over, leans forward, and hugs his friend, before plopping down on the bed across from hers. Tweek anxiously taps his kneecaps with his fingers, "So, um, how are you feeling?"

Wendy sniffs, wiping a single tear off with her hand, "I've been better," she admits.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Kyle didn't know you two were still dating. He's actually pretty broken up about it, so at least every non-gay guy here doesn't suck," he jokes. Wendy cracks a small smile at this.

"Thank God," she states, rolling her eyes, "But enough about me, how's it going with the whole Clyde thing?"

"Wendy," Tweek says, his gaze soft and friendly, "you've just been through emotional trauma. We don't have to talk about my trivial problems."

"No, Tweek, I want to," Wendy quickly jumps in, "You're my friend and it's nice having a bit of a distraction, so, uh, any updates?"

Tweek shakes his head, "Not really. He's mostly been staying away from me, but–" Tweek pauses and scans the area, before moving closer to her, "-Craig's been acting strange ever since he came back from that date with you-know-who."

Wendy cocks her forehead, "Strange how?"

"He's acting withdrawn again – mostly with everyone else, but a little bit with me – and he spends a lot of time staring into space. But the thing that worries me the most is that, lately, he's been physically clingy," Tweek confesses, concern in his eyes, "I haven't seen him this fragile since the week after we got back together. Do you think something might've happened on the date?"

"If something did, don't you think he would've told you about it?" she counters.

"Well, I haven't told him about our Clyde speculation yet, so maybe not," he shrugs, "You don't think Stan kissed him or tried to convince him he's not good enough for me, do you?"

Wendy sighs and rolls her eyes up at the ceiling, "I wouldn't put it past him," she grumbles, "He seems to love ruining great relationships."

Wendy and Tweek both look up as Craig enters the room in his casual wear, his hair freshly damp from the shower. He immediately makes a beeline to Tweek, stopping between the two beds. Craig reaches forward and grabs his boyfriend's hand, half-heartedly attempting to pull him up, but Tweek stays put. "Babe, help me," Craig pleads, nudging him forward, "I can't find my clothes."

Tweek tilts his head as he locks eyes with him, "You're wearing your clothes."

"I meant the ones I'm not wearing. Please, baby, I'm lost," Craig cries in an uncharacteristically whiny tone. Tweek grunts as Craig climbs onto his lap and hugs him, straddling his hips and resting his head on Tweek's shoulder. Tweek wraps his arms around him and turns to Wendy. She gives him a weird look.

…

"Alright, everyone," Token announces over the loudspeaker once all of the eligible contestants have lined up against the fence in the backyard, the former HOH, Cartman, sitting on one of the lounge chairs off to the side, "I promised this morning that today's HOH competition was going to be a little bit different, so, here we go. Introducing the one, the only…Jimmy Valmer!"

"Th-thank you, thank you!" Jimmy's peppy voice chimes above them. The contestants barely budge, the atmosphere denser than Craig's mother's bush. Both Kyle and Wendy are glaring at Stan from opposite ends of the line while Craig is flashing Clyde subtle but hurtful glances from his left while he clings onto his boyfriend.

"Before we start the competition, Jimmy, do you have any comments for the group?" Token asks.

"Actually, To-Token, I have two," Jimmy replies, giving a slight pause, "Stan? You're a horr-horr-terrible person," Kyle and Wendy smile at the insult, "An-and Clyde, what the hell is wrong with you?" Jimmy asks. Clyde shrugs. Next to him, Craig is staring at Clyde, troubled. He trails his gaze to the pavement.

"Thank you. Now I'm going to explain how this competition is going to work," Token states, diving into the rules, "Cartman, as outgoing HOH, you will be ineligible to compete this week. For today's challenge, each of you will write a joke and perform it for our very own Jimmy Valmer. Whoever earns the biggest laugh from South Park's favorite comic wins. To make it fair, we will be distorting all of your voices so Jimmy won't be able to tell who told what joke."

"Come on Token, don't you think this is a little unfair?" Cartman butts in, rolling his eyes from the sideline, "I mean, Bebe and Wendy have no chance here. Girls aren't funny!"

Bebe and Wendy both huff, the latter crossing her arms over her torso. "What did you say?" Bebe asks, hand perched sassily on her hip.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Actually, what I said was-" Cartman leans down in his sit and takes out a megaphone, "Girls aren't funny, Bebe!" he screams into the device.

Tweek smirks, "Heidi was."

"OOOHHHHH!" everybody else choruses as Cartman turns bright red from the sideline.

The fatass hoists himself up and storms over to him, pointing his finger intimidatingly in Tweek's face. "Aye! You wanna go, spaz? I'll punch your fuckin' face in!"

Craig tenses up, his fists clenched at his sides as he glares daggers at Cartman, but Tweek restrains him from punching. "Craig, it's fine, He's just an idiot," Tweek assures him, as Cartman continues ranting next to them, "We don't need to resort to violence."

"Did you hear me, spaz? I'll make your teeth as crooked as your boyfriend's!" Cartman threatens.

Tweek's face darkens, rage igniting in his eyes as he tightens his fists. "WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT CRAIG, YOU LITTLE BITCH?!" he fires.

Cartman takes a few steps back and waves his hands in front of chest, looking like he is regretting the last twenty seconds of his life. Tweek runs over and slugs Cartman in the arm. "Oww!" Cartman cries, rubbing his bicep. He stares up at Tweek, unable to believe that the little shrimp just did that, "Oww! Myem! MYEMEE!"

"Craig," Stan states from a few spots down, "Do something!"

Craig turns forward, watching smugly as Tweek beats up the perpetrator. "No. Tweek. Don't. Stop," he states flatly, the corner of Craig's mouth twitching up in a satisfied smile, "Oh, he's going to sleep well tonight," he notes.

A few minutes later, Cartman is grumbling as he pouts in his lounge chair, cradling his bruised arm like it's one of his stuffed animals. Tweek returns to his place in line, slightly winded and sporting the biggest smile he has all week. "Tweek, I am so turned on right now," Craig speaks up next to him.

"Down, tiger," Tweek smirks. Jimmy laughs over the loudspeaker. Tweek smiles and gives him a wave, "Hi, Jimmy!"

"Hi, Tweek!" Jimmy greets back.

"Alright, everyone. Now that Cartman is done getting his ass kicked, it's time to start the challenge. But first, let's allow our guest to tell one of his signature jokes," Token states, pausing to pass the microphone over, "Jimmy, whenever you're ready."

"Thank you, Token," Jimmy says, before clearing his throat. "Wow. I've never seen so man-man-many hot singles. Is this Big Brother or my ar-ar-area?" he quips, pausing for a laugh. No one budges, the atmosphere still tense from all the fighting. "Geez, tough crowd," he mutters.

"Well, he's right about that," Token agrees with a sigh, "So without further ado, let's hear the first joke. We'll go from left to right, so the person on the end closest to the house will go first," he explains, but Kyle doesn't budge. "Um…Kyle?" Token states after a few moments, "Didn't you hear me? It's your turn to tell a joke."

Kyle rolls his eyes and steps forward. "Fine! You want to hear a joke? My relationship with Stan!" he blares, his arms crossed.

Everyone stands there speechless in an awkward silence.

"HAHAHAHAHA! Oh man, that is too good!" Cartman cries, laughing hysterically from the sideline. The fatass rolls onto the floor, holding his stomach, which is now aching from all his laughter. Kyle turns and flashes Cartman a peeved glare while Stan raises an eyebrow at his antics.

Token clears his throat, "Okay, um…Jimmy, what did you think of that joke?"

"Not bad, Token. I-I really liked how he drew in-in-inspiration from a real-life event," he praises.

"Nice. Alright Bebe, you're next. So much for anonymity," he mutters as the blonde takes a step forward.

"Okay. Um…what do you get when you cross a gorilla with a lying cheater?" Bebe asks, pausing slightly for dramatic effect. She smiles, "Stan."

"Ooh. Another gre-great joke. I'm seeing a trend here," Jimmy states, the joke almost gaining a reaction from the other housemates.

Tweek gulps as his turn approaches. He steps forward, accidentally taking Craig with him, who is back latching onto his arm. "Craig, you have to let go. It's my turn." Craig flashes him an innocent look and shakes his head.

"Tweek? What's your joke?" Token wonders.

"Oh! Um…my joke is, uh, um…" Tweek begins, scratching his chin with his free hand as he scrambles to think of something, "…toddler murder?" he squeaks. Tweek yelps, immediately pursing his lips at his response.

"Ookay…" Token uneasily states, "We're not even going to touch that one," he sighs, "Craig, what's yours?"

"Mine's not really a joke so much as an observation," Craig informs him, patting Tweek's arm with his free hand, "Tweek really kicked Cartman's ass."

Jimmy laughs. "Yes, he did," Token agrees as the fatass shoots the couple a death glare from the sideline, "Clyde, you're up next."

"Sweet!" Clyde beams, taking a step forward, "Mine's a knock-knock joke. Knock, knock."

"Who's th-there?" Jimmy plays along.

"Clyde," the brunette happily answers.

"Clyde who?"

Clyde doesn't budge. A few of the housemates cast puzzled looks next to him.

Token pauses, "Is there more?" he asks curiously.

"Nope. That's it. That's the joke," Clyde answers, flashing his pearly whites.

Token groans. "Okay, Stan. Please tell us you have a joke better than whatever the hell that just was."

"Well, I hope so," Stan states optimistically as he takes a step forward, "What is a cow's favorite meal?" Stan pauses, "Moo-se tracks!"

Craig blinks nearby, his forehead scrunched. "That doesn't even make any sense."

"And last but not least, we have Miss Wendy Testaburger," Token announces, hoping to gloss over the embarrassment that is Stan's humor. "Wendy, whenever you're ready."

"Alright," Wendy nods, before taking a determined step forward, "What do you call it when you cross one of Douchebag's signature farts with one of Cartman's Twitter rants?" Wendy pauses for dramatic effect as she stares confidently up at the loudspeaker, "Explosive diarrhea," she states, deadpan.

"AYE!" Cartman outbursts.

"HAHAHAHA!" Jimmy blares over the loudspeaker.

"And I think it's safe to say we have a winner!" Token announces, holding back a few laughs as well, "Jimmy, what would you like to say to our newest HOH?"

Jimmy sniffs, presumably wiping a tear from his eye, "Wendy, you're a cont-cont-" everyone awkwardly stares wide-eyed at the loudspeaker, "-continuing source of inspiration!" he completes as Cartman reluctantly waddles over and hands the key to Wendy. Bebe squeals and hugs her best friend while Stan stands nearby, looking like he is about ten seconds away from vomiting.

"Congratulations, Wendy! You have won the HOH competition!" Token states as Tweek tries to pull her into a hug as well, but he has to settle for a side one when Craig still refuses to let go of him, "But before you go and enjoy your kickass new room, Jimmy, do you have any closing words for the group?"

"Sure, Token," Jimmy says with a smile, "It's a long ga-game fellas, so try not to lo-lo-lose your head in it. The most important element to a succ-succ-successful relationship is a big, hearty dose of comm-comm-communication."

Craig's stomach tenses at these words, the noirette visibly shaking and death-gripping his boyfriend's arm. He steps back, feeling himself spiraling in a sea of insecurity as he looks from his close friend to his partner. All of a sudden, Craig whimpers and bursts into tears. He drops Tweek's arm and takes off running, bolting back into the house.

"Craig? CRAIG!" Tweek cries after his distressed boyfriend, immediately racing after him.

The remaining housemates stand in silence, mouths gaping at the utterly absurd scene that just unfolded in front of them.

"Holy shit, yew guys," Cartman proclaims, his eyes as wide as his mom's vajayjay.

"Well," Stan swallows, equally as shocked as his fellow peers, "I don't think anyone saw that coming."

Chapter Text

Stan Marsh
Cheater Pants

Last HOH challenge, Craig actually showed human feeling. It was the most terrifying thing I've ever seen, and I've seen Cartman as a giant trapper keeper monster. I'm pretty sure Craig just released twenty-two years worth of tears in one go.

…

Stan, Cartman, and Clyde are sitting on one of the living room sofas a few minutes after Craig's outburst, discussing what the hell just happened. Stan and Cartman are talking at full volume while Clyde is sitting off to the side being strangely quiet, a worried look spread across his face.

"Man, yew guys, I can't believe Craig just cried like that," Cartman speaks up, his fat arms crossed over his torso as he stares at Stan, "I always thought he was a robot. I was so confident, I took Scott Malkinson's money."

Stan tilts his forehead, "You mean you bet Scott Malkinson on it and won his money?"

"No, I just took his money," Cartman states with a satisfied smile. Stan shakes his head.

"What do you think made Craig cry like that?" he wonders.

Cartman shrugs, "Tweek probably told him he has a small dick."

"We unfortunately know that's not true."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he never said it!" Cartman argues.

Stan sighs and throws his head back against the sofa, "I really don't think that's it."

"Fine!" Cartman cries, his face reddening, "Then maybe Craig was replaced by a defective robot and he started malfunctioning."

Stan exhales once more as he locks eyes with the fatass, "Is it sad that I believe that's the most logical explanation here?" he questions, eyebrow raised, "Also, I'm surprised you used the word 'defective' correctly in a sentence."

"Fuck you, Stan," Cartman huffs before nudging his leader in the elbow, his expression surprisingly softening, "But, what did I tell you? Tweek is Craig's weakness. You could call him an asshole all day and he wouldn't blink an eye, but if Tweek said it once, Craig would have a breakdown," Cartman explains, a smile appearing on his face as he narrows in on Clyde, "Maybe he found out about it," he whispers, nudging Clyde in the rib cage with his elbow.

Stan scrunches his forehead, "Found out about what?" he asks.

"You know," Cartman coos, nudging a stiff Clyde once more. Cartman raises his eyebrows twice, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his lip.

Clyde rolls his eyes, "Nothing, Stan," he states with a sigh, his arms crossed as he turns away from the fatass, "Absolutely nothing."

…

Five minutes earlier, after leaving the HOH competition in tears, Craig is pacing the girls room, frantically running his fingers through his hair as he struggles to maintain his composure.

"Come on. Get it together, Tucker," Craig states, giving a small sniff as he wipes the tears away from his eyes with a tissue. Craig groans, already feeling his nose blocked with mucus as someone swings open the door behind him.

"Craig!" a familiar blonde cries out, sounding relieved when he finds him, "Oh my God, are you okay?" Tweek squeaks, quietly shutting the door behind him, before grabbing Craig's hands and moving them down delicately away from his hair. The noirette lets him, "Careful. You'll trigger your asthma," Tweek states, affectionately rubbing his boyfriend's hands as he stares up at him, "What's going on? Please tell me. I want to help you," Tweek says, gently squeezing Craig's hands, "I haven't seen you this distraught since that week we were broken up."

Craig turns away from him, giving a small sniff as he avoids Tweek's gaze and stares down at the floor. "God, that week felt like ten years to me," he mutters, his head aching as he looks back up at his boyfriend. Craig is usually a pretty strong person, but seeing Tweek sad makes him crumble, "Babe, I can't lie to you," Craig sighs, "I heard something yesterday and I feel bad because I've been keeping it from you, but I don't know why I'm even freaking out about this cause it may not even be true, but…Tweek, I think Clyde has a crush on you," he confesses, wincing slightly as the words leave his body.

"No way," Tweek breathes out.

"I know, right? I mean it's totally ridiculous that I would believe something Stan told me-"

"What? No. Craig, look. It's not ridiculous, okay?" Tweek says, softly squeezing his hands as he gazes up at him, "That's what I was going to tell you."

Craig cocks his forehead, "You knew?"

"Well, kind of," Tweek replies, shrugging his shoulder, "Clyde was acting really weird around me all week and I told Wendy about it yesterday and she put the pieces together herself," he explains with a sigh, "I'm so sorry, Craig, I should've told you sooner, but I didn't know if it was true and I didn't want to ruin your friendship with Clyde with a speculation. But Craig, you have absolutely nothing to worry about, okay? There's nothing romantic between me and Clyde, and there's never going to be anything romantic between us. I love you," he confesses, affectionately squeezing his boyfriend's hands as he stares sincerely into his eyes. Craig looks down at their enjoined hands and gazes back up at Tweek, giving an endearing squeeze in response.

"I know. I'm sorry," Craig states, giving another tender squeeze, "When I heard that he liked you, I just flipped out and I felt like I was pushed back five years ago to when you dumped me and-" Craig hesitates, blinking a few tears away from his eyes. Tweek stares up at him, heartbroken, "-I just…I don't know. I guess I got scared that I was going to lose you again," he whimpers, lowering his voice to a vulnerable whisper, "-And I can't do that again, baby, I can't. I barely made it through the first time," Craig sniffs, a few heavy tears falling down his cheeks.

"Aww…Craig, honey, come here," Tweek coos empathetically, drawing him closer into a warm embrace. Despite Craig's size, he has never seen his boyfriend so small. Tweek smiles as he pulls back to look at Craig, lovingly holding his forearms, "Craig, me dumping you then was a mistake, okay? That had nothing to do with anything you did. You had no fault in that," he assures him, "I've told you time after time that I'm all in. This is it, you and me," he states, firmly holding his arms, "I don't want to date anyone else. As far as I'm concerned, everyone else is crap. I only want to be yours."

Craig sniffs, starting to feel the heaviness of his insecurities mitigate on his shoulders. "And you know how I feel," Craig adds softly.

"I do," Tweek says, giving a small smile as he cradles Craig's hands in his own, "And I think we need to communicate more effectively with each other from now on, so this kind of thing doesn't happen again." Craig nods and sniffs as Tweek gazes up at his face. He plucks Craig's signature hat off and affectionately runs his fingers through his black locks.

Craig sighs before he plops down on the bed, clearly still distraught by the whole situation. "I just can't believe he would do this to me," Craig says as Tweek joins him, the blonde flashing a sympathetic gaze as he listens to Craig pour his heart out, "We've been friends forever. And now he's trying to steal you right from under my nose?" he sighs, "I just can't believe he wants to see me depressed."

"Craig…" Tweek states soothingly, wrapping his arms around him and leaning into his side as Craig's gaze trails to the floor, "He could never steal me from you. And I really don't think he was trying. He got so upset when I thought he was trying to seduce me. I know Clyde has a high opinion of you."

Craig sniffs, "Then why didn't he tell me?" he wonders.

"I don't know," Tweek answers honestly, holding him together, "but I'm sure he had a good reason for it."

…

Ten minutes later, Cartman, Stan, and Clyde are still sitting on the living room sofas, the fatass lounging comfortably with his feet on the coffee table. Clyde cowers when Craig enters the room with Tweek, the pair holding hands as they walk past them. "Yo, Craig!" Cartman shouts, perking up at his presence, "What happened? Did Tweek say you have a low TMI? What about your APS? Is it small? That's it, isn't it? Come join the club – Kiel's president," Cartman smirks. Craig stops in place and narrows his eyes at the fatass, both bewildered and insulted by his implication. Craig flips him off then walks into the kitchen, pulling Tweek along with him. Clyde gives a sigh of relief as they exit.

…

Clyde Donovan
Human Garbage Disposal

Well, I've managed to keep Cartman from spilling my secret for the time being. Not gonna lie, all that drama that happened between Kyle and Stan yesterday really helped me, cause Cartman's been trying to milk that for all it's worth. But I don't know how much longer I can put this off before he tries to blow this whole thing up in my face.

…

Later that evening, Clyde pokes his head into the girls room. He eyes Craig, who is sitting by himself on his bed, staring forlornly at the ground, his eyes bloodshot and his expression defeated. Clyde takes a deep breath and steps into the room. "Hey," he greets, giving a small wave as he stops in front of him, "How are you doing?"

Craig snaps his head up and narrows his eyes at the brunette, "Why do you care?" he grunts.

"Gee Craig, maybe because I'm your friend," Clyde states, as if it's obvious.

"Tweek isn't here, you know," Craig barks.

"Ookay," Clyde replies, leaning back against the dresser, "Not sure why that's relevant."

Craig sighs, "Why would you do this to me, Clyde? Do you secretly hate me? Is that it? Are you mad that I-I don't know, took your taco one time?" Craig blindly guesses, getting more agitated by the second as he throws his hands up.

"Yes…but I got over that pretty quick," Clyde states, leaning forward to pat Craig on the shoulder. Craig quickly jerks his shoulder back, "Come on Craig, you know I could never hate you," he states warmly.

"Do I?" Craig retorts, "I thought I did once, but now I'm not so sure."

"Why?" Clyde squeaks.

Craig sighs and rolls his eyes at the ceiling, "Come on Clyde, you know why."

"No, I don't. That's why I'm asking you," Clyde responds, watching as Craig's expression saddens as his eyes trail to the floor, "Craig," he states softly, "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

All of a sudden, something inside Craig snaps. He clenches his fists as he stands up, towering over his friend. "I don't want you to help me, Clyde! Haven't you done enough?!"

"I don't know!" Clyde outcries, frustration swirling through his insides, "You haven't told me anything. This whole conversation is vague and confusing! If I'm not careful, I might accidentally agree to adopt a cow."

The pair glare at each other for a moment, the tension only growing in the room around them. Finally, Clyde caves and sighs.

"Look, Craig, I don't know what's been bothering you lately, but I'll be here when you're ready to talk," Clyde gently assures him before pushing himself off the dresser and walking through the doorway, out of sight.

Craig stares down at the floor, loosening his fists as Clyde's words ring through his mind.

Clyde steps into the hallway, his mind still reeling over his complicated conversation with Craig, trying to figure out where he went wrong. He is so distracted that he accidentally knocks into someone in the hall. Tweek shrieks and jumps away from Clyde, holding his hands to his chest like they've been burned. Clyde's eyes widen when he sees the blonde, quickly stuttering out an apology and being sure to keep his distance from him.

"Clyde!" Tweek shrieks, backing up towards the closed girls room door, acting surprised to see him even though they live in the same house, "I was just-I'm just going to go and spend time with my boyfriend, Craig," Tweek states, awkwardly stumbling through his words, "You know…my boyfriend," he squeaks, fumbling behind his back for the door handle.

Clyde nods, giving a small sweatdrop, "Sounds good," he states.

"It does. – Wah!" Tweek screams, accidentally losing his footing and tumbling backwards to the floor.

Clyde quickly races over, crouching down in front of him, "Jesus Christ! Tweek, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Tweek says, lighting pushing Clyde away from him, "I'm just going to lay here for a while," he adds sheepishly, "Goodnight, Clyde."

"Alright…" Clyde uneasily replies, slowly moving away from him. He stands up, "…goodnight." Clyde turns his back to the blonde and walks down the hallway. He stops suddenly and peers around the corner at Tweek, struck with a serious case of déjà vu, as a daunting realization washes over him. A horrified look graces the brunette's face, "-Oh my God, I think Tweek has a crush on me!"

…

Stan Marsh
Cheater Pants

Yesterday, when Wendy won HOH, I saw my life flash before my eyes. I have the worst standing in the house right now, except for maybe Cartman, so my only hope of staying this week is for me to convince Wendy not to put me up, which is going to be easier said than done. I really have my work cut out for me here, but I'm not going down without a fight. If I can pull this off, I can do anything in this game, so watch out Big Brother house!

…

Wendy and Bebe are sitting in the grand HOH suite, the pair sprawled out on Wendy's new bed. Bebe is lying down on her stomach, shifting through the newest issue of Seventeen magazine that Wendy got in her gift basket while Wendy is sitting down next to her, picking at her cuticles. Bebe smiles as she stares up at her best friend, "So, who are you going to nominate?"

"I don't know," Wendy shrugs, this question on her mind since she won the competition, "Honestly, I feel like I have more people I won't nominate than will right now. Like, obviously, I'm not going to nominate you or Tweek, and I'm not going to put Craig up after he had a breakdown. That's just cruel," she adds, setting her hands down gently on the mattress, "Clyde is like 50/50, but I really don't think he's a threat."

"True, he is pretty harmless and easy to manipulate," Bebe states with a nod, "Are you going to put up Stan?"

"I have no clue, Bebe," Wendy admits, anxiously picking at her cuticles once more, "Part of me thinks I should be petty and put him on the block with Kyle, and part of me thinks I should just be the better person here and act like it doesn't bug me."

Bebe pulls herself upright and pats Wendy gently on the shoulder, "Well, I'm sure whatever you decide will be a great decision."

Wendy gazes up, giving her friend a small smile, "Thanks, Bebe."

Someone knocks on the door, causing the friends to immediately separate, turning their attentions towards the visitor. "Who is it?" Wendy cries.

"It's Stan."

Wendy turns to Bebe; Bebe rolls her eyes.

"Um, come in," Wendy states.

Stan slowly opens the doorway and steps inside, his stature meek and non-threatening. "Wendy, can I speak with you? Alone?" Stan reiterates, narrowing his eyes at Bebe, who is now shooting daggers directly at him with her eyes.

"Uh, sure," Wendy says as Bebe sits up with a sigh. The curly-haired blonde heads towards the exit, purposely knocking Stan in the side in the process.

"Sorry," Bebe grunts, shooting him another glare before she exits.

Stan shivers as he shuts the door. He turns back to Wendy, sporting his best somber expression. "Wendy, I'm so sorry about everything. I never should've cheated on you, and I definitely shouldn't have cheated on you with Kyle – that's just insulting," Stan adds, apologetically clasping his hands in front of his chest. "I don't know what came over me. I guess I just felt sorry for him, you know, with the whole Douchebag thing and everything-"

"Stan," Wendy speaks suddenly, really not wanting to hear another word of what she assumes is supposed to be an apology, "It is what it is. Honestly, I really don't care why you did it. I just want to move on with my life."

"Okay," Stan states, giving a small gulp, a knot tightening in his stomach, "Fair enough," he says.

"Good," Wendy nods, grabbing the newest issue of Seventeen and flipping to a random page as Stan carefully steps further into the room. He stops in front of Wendy and gazes down at her.

"Hey, have I ever told you how much I adore you?"

Wendy snaps her head up and narrows her eyes at him, "What?"

"You know, I just really think you're an awesome person, Wendy," Stan explains, his expression warm, "I always have and I always will."

"Oh. That's great."

"Yeah," Stan states, giving a sigh as he takes a seat down next to her on the bed. Wendy tenses up as Stan grabs her hand, "You know, I really think we could be something great again. We're a real power couple. Would you ever think of, maybe, taking me back?"

Wendy quickly drops his hand, her heart conflicted, "Stan, I don't know-"

"Come on, Wendy, the whole Kyle thing was a mistake. I swear I'll never do it again. I'm in it for the long haul. I really want to be with you," he pleads, his eyes shining.

"I want to be with you too, Stan, but I don't know if I can forgive you for this. You really hurt me," Wendy states, "Maybe we should just take a break until this whole Big Brother thing is over-"

"What? No!" Stan cries, latching onto her tightly, "Come on sweetie, I don't want to spend another day without you," he coos, flashing Wendy his best puppy dog eyes.

Wendy gazes down at him, feeling her walls crumbling down when she locks eyes with her ex. She gently pats his hand and sighs. "I'll think about it," she states, Stan immediately perking up at these words.

"Thanks, baby. You won't regret it," he beams, quickly hopping off the bed and skating to the door.

Wendy's eyes trail to the carpet, "I sure hope not," she sighs.

…

Later that morning, Craig steps out of the bathroom stall, holding his nose after flushing the toilet. He groans as he approaches the sink, "That's the last time I'm going in there after Cartman," he mutters, washing his hands.

Mere seconds after drying them on a towel, Stan pops into his personal bubble. Stan gives a nod of acknowledgement as Craig shoots him a skeptical look. "Hey, how are you doing?" Stan asks casually, "I haven't seen you much since you released the floodgates."

"I'm alright. Back to good old stoic Craig. – Wait, I just remembered, I gotta give a shoutout to my sister," Craig states, turning towards a nearby camera and flipping it off with both hands, "Fuck you, Trish!" he clears his throat and turns back to Stan, "Anyway, as I was saying, I'm surprised you care."

"Why? I'm not heartless."

"You're not?" Craig cocks his forehead, "Huh. Could've fooled me and half the people in this house."

Stan sighs and crosses his arms, "You know Craig, I really care about the people here, and someday you're going to realize how good of a person I am," he tells him.

Craig bursts into laughter, struggling to keep a straight face as he looks at Stan, "Seriously? You're really going to start this now? After you emotionally damaged two of our housemates?" he adds with an eye roll, "Good people don't need to brag about how good they are, Marsh. Take Tweek, for example."

Stan looks up at the ceiling, "He's not an example, you just can't go five minutes without mentioning him," he snaps before rolling his shoulders a bit and loosening his tone, "Anyway, I thought you might want to know that Wendy and I got back together today."

"Why? I don't care about your love life…unless it's going poorly."

Stan sighs, "Right, because you're soulless," he remembers.

"Stan, I just saved my best friend, my boyfriend, and Clyde in one move last week. And you know what? I would do it again if I had to, so don't lecture me on being soulless," Craig states, leaning forward and condescendingly patting Stan's bicep before moseying down the hallway, "But thanks for the laugh, though!" he shouts to him.

…

Five minutes later, Stan enters the boys room. He stops in his tracks and awkwardly stares at Kyle, who is sitting on his own bed, staring at the wall. Upon seeing Stan, Kyle springs out of his seat and exits the room, almost colliding with the fatass, who is about to enter through the doorway in the process.

"So…" Cartman states, trying to cut through the heavy tension he just walked into, "I'm guessing Kahl still hates you."

Stan rolls his eyes and plops down on his mattress, "He's acting a like baby. If I were him, I would've been over it already. So, um, what's up with you?" he adds, quick to change the subject.

"I'm glad you asked, Stan," Cartman answers, waddling over to him and taking a seat on the vacant bed across from his friend, "I'm having the worst day ever here cause Wendy is the freakin' HOH, and you know that it's going to go straight to that bitch's head."

Stan tilts his head, "You think you're going to get nominated?"

"Oh, definitely," Cartman states with a huff, "I'm ninety percent sure she's going to put me and you on the block."

Stan nose laughs, "Yeah, I don't know about that," he replies, fiddling with his thumb, "Wendy and I basically got back together this morning. I've got her wrapped around my finger."

"Why'd yew guys get back together? I thought you said she was boring."

"She is," Stan nods, "But you know, she's in a position of power and she obviously still likes me, so for now, I'm fine to let her think she has a chance."

"Ah, so it's a classic case of deception," Cartman realizes, leaning back against the wall in admiration as he gives a proud smile, "Good job, Stan."

The pair continue boastfully chatting, unaware that a certain twitchy blonde has been lingering in the hallway listening to their every word. He bolts to the HOH room.

"Wendy! Wendy!" Tweek cries, frantically scanning the area as he softly knocks on the grand, wooden door. Hearing his distressed call, Wendy quickly stands up from her bed and swings open the door, causing her friend to practically stumble into the room.

"Tweek, what the hell happened?" Wendy wonders, "You look like you've seen another ghost."

"Wendy, Stan is playing you! You gotta believe me," Tweek cries, holding her by the shoulders as he stares into her eyes, "He's only pretending that he wants to get back together with you because he doesn't want you to nominate him this afternoon. I just heard him bragging about it to Cartman."

Wendy's face scrunches, unsure how to process this boatload of information, "What?"

"Stan is using you to get ahead in this game and trusting him is a big mistake," Tweek reiterates, hoping he is getting through to her.

"Tweek," Wendy responds, her head spinning at this supposed betrayal, "are you sure?"

"Yes, I swear on coffee – no, on Craig!" Tweek claims, stressing the importance. He watches as Wendy stumbles backwards and plops down on her bed.

Wendy throws herself back and stares up at the ceiling, her stomach twisting into knots as she rubs her aching forehead with her hand, "Oh God."

…

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

Wendy and I don't have the best relationship. I don't know why, maybe she just has her panties in a bunch or she took too many Plan B pills or whatever the hell girls do, but today I need to remind her of how awesome I am, so she doesn't nominate me for eviction.

…

"Wendy! Wendy Testaburger!" Cartman coos in his best sickeningly-sweet tone as he knocks on the door, "Oh, Wendy! Come out here, Wendy, or your killer boobs are going to get you!" he teases. Cartman smiles as he hears Wendy stomp over to the doorway. He grins as she throws the door open, giving him a glare that would make most people shit their pants.

"What?" she growls, her snarl causing Tweek to flinch from his seat on the bed.

"Hi, Wendy. I was hoping we could talk a little before the nominations today," Cartman says, strolling into the HOH room and plopping down on the nearest chair like he belongs there. He narrows his eyes at the spare, "Aye! Get out of here, spaz! Why don't you just go have sex with Craig or something, so he doesn't have to use his hand?" Cartman commands, rudely waving Tweek away with his hand. Wendy and Tweek both turn and glare at the fatass. He shrugs, "What?"

"Ack! No way! I'm not leaving her alone with you. You're clearly unstable," Tweek cries.

"Oh, and you are?" Cartman replies with an eye roll, "That's a laugh!"

Wendy turns and exchanges curious glances with her friend, her hands perched gently on her hips, "Wow, I can't believe he actually admitted he's unstable," she mutters, "but it's okay, Tweek, you can go. I'll be fine. If worse comes to worse, I can always beat him up again," Wendy states with a smile. Tweek nods and heads towards the door, glaring at Cartman as he passes by.

Cartman rolls his eyes, his demeanor instantly changing when Tweek slams the door shut. Cartman falls on his knees and bursts into a sob as he pathetically latches onto Wendy's ankles, "Wendy! Please don't nominate me, Wendy! I'll do anything!" he cries, sobbing onto her open-toed shoes.

Wendy stiffens, slightly weirded-out by Cartman's antics. "Ookay…will you be a nice person?" she wonders.

Cartman stops sobbing for a moment and sits up to look at her, "Now let's not get crazy," he sniffs.

Wendy rolls her eyes and sighs. "Look, Cartman, I really don't know who I'm going to nominate yet, but I'm going to be honest with you, I'm having a hard time finding a reason not to put you on the block."

"What?!" Cartman cries, releasing another heavy sob as he goes back down to kiss her feet, Wendy cringing at the gesture, "This isn't because of what I said about girls not being funny, right? You know I was just kidding. I love to kid, Wendy, I love to kid! I think girls are hilarious," he rambles like he's spewing out word vomit, "I love hearing jokes about vajayjays!" he shouts, his voice cracking at the final word.

Wendy sighs as she slowly inches over to the doorway, the weight of the fatass clinging to her ankles making it ten times more difficult. She swings open the door and stares down at the feeble mess of a human underneath her. "Look," she says, "I know you and I don't have the best relationship here, but if you step back and really try to be a better person and be a little kinder to everyone, I may not nominate you."

Cartman sniffs and sits up, unlatching from Wendy's ankles. "May not?" Cartman repeats, his face scrunching in disgust at these words as someone approaches the doorway, "What kind of fucked up promise is that?! I ate my underwear for you, Wendy! I ATE MY UNDERWEAR!" he cries, throwing his head down in a sob.

Wendy looks up only to find Craig standing a few feet from the doorway, a peculiar look on his face as he watches Cartman sob into the carpet. Craig sighs, "Why does this keep happening to me?" he wonders.

…

Early that afternoon, Wendy is sitting in her bedroom, reading through the trend column in her latest issue of Seventeen magazine when she hears a knock at the door. Wendy sighs as she hoists herself out of bed, silently praying that someone decent is standing on the other side of it. She swings open the door, finding Kyle standing shyly in the doorway, hands in his pockets as he sheepishly looks up at her.

"Oh, Kyle," Wendy speaks, her voice a little above a whisper, "I wasn't expecting you."

"Yeah," Kyle replies, nervously scratching his chin as he locks eyes with her, "um, can I come in?"

"Sure, I don't see why not," she states, stepping back to allow him entrance. Wendy softly closes the door behind him, watching as Kyle nervously takes a seat on the lounge chair, the redhead seeming overly conscious of his every move.

Kyle sighs as Wendy sits on her bed across from him. He waits until she is ready before he dives right in, "Look, I would've done this sooner, but obviously I wasn't in the right headspace. And I know no matter how I go through with this, part of you is going to think I'm only doing this because you're HOH, but I'm really sorry about everything that happened," Kyle says, gazing at Wendy with the utmost sincerity, "I know that's not a lot coming from me, but I feel bad about my part in it, even though I didn't know you and Stan were still dating. And, in terms of the game, if you want to nominate me, I totally understand. I won't hold anything against you," he assures her, Wendy's eyes softening a bit at this claim, "Honestly, I'm not sure if I even want to be here anymore, so…yeah, just do what you think is best."

Wendy nods, the silence around them surprisingly calm and unstrained. "Wow. Thank you, Kyle," Wendy replies, "That, um…surprisingly means a lot," she articulates.

"Oh…great," Kyle says, his face lighting up slightly at this news. Not wanting to overstay his welcome, he swiftly stands up and turns towards the door. Kyle grabs the doorknob.

"And Kyle?" Wendy says suddenly, the redhead freezing at her words, "For what it's worth, you didn't deserve Stan anyway," she states with a smile.

Kyle cocks his forehead, unsure whether this is meant to be a compliment or an insult but choosing not to dwell on it any further. "Oh, um…thanks," he states, quickly exiting the room before he can mess this up somehow.

…

Five minutes later, Wendy is back sitting on her bed, analyzing her conversation with Kyle with her best friend, who is sprawled out on her stomach next to her. Bebe tisks as she dives further into the topic, "I just can't believe he's not over her yet."

Wendy sighs as she looks through her collection of nail polishes that she lined up on the mattress. "Well, they dated a long time. I guess it's not too out-there," she states, picking up one of the bottles and holding it up to the light.

"Yeah, but I mean, come on, Douchebag barely talked to anyone," Bebe replies with an eye roll, "I doubt she was that different with him. How much of a connection could they have had?"

"Apparently enough to date for four years and cause him to spiral when she dumped him," Wendy shrugs.

"Hey, remember when she farted on Heidi? She was so pissed. She must've smelled like shit for weeks," Bebe laughs, hoping to lighten the mood.

Wendy sighs, "I guess I'm just shocked that Kyle is so miserable here that he's actually considering stepping out. This game is like perfect for him."

"Well, if you ask me, he sounds depressed," Bebe says, reaching forward and rearranging a few of the nail polishes on the bed, "Nothing's been really going well for him since he bought that engagement ring…and we all know how that turned out."

"Yeah," Wendy shivers, getting a serious case of secondhand cringe, "I still don't know if I want to put him up, though. He's sane and still ten times better than Stan and Cartman-"

Wendy looks up suddenly as Tweek pokes his head into the doorway, knocking twice softly before stepping into the bedroom. "Hey, Wendy. Can I borrow your lotion? Cracked skin," he explains, holding his left arm up and pointing to the dry patch on his forearm. Wendy laughs, grabs the bottle, and tosses it over with a smirk.

"So that's what you call it now," she quips.

Tweek smiles, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree, "Shut up." Tweek exits the room, only to wind up opening the door back up slightly to shout out his gratitude, "Thank you!" he beams.

Bebe looks to Wendy and chuckles, "I'm so glad we're aligned with him."

…

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

Being in here amidst all this drama just makes me realize how much I really miss David. He's so calm and well-adjusted. That's rare in this town, trust me.

…

Later that afternoon, Wendy is standing at the head of the dining table, gazing out at her fellow housemates, the signature, gold HOH key wrapped around her neck. Wendy sighs as she clasps her hands together, "Hey, guys. As I'm sure all of you are well aware by now, nominations are today, and I had to make a lot of tough choices this week on who to nominate. After hours of consideration, I've made my decision, and this week I am nominating Stan and Kyle," she announces, the former dropping his mouth at this information. "Stan," Wendy begins, turning to her ex-boyfriend, "There's no hiding the fact that you have caused a lot of waves this week in the house. You obviously cheated on both myself and Kyle, which, honestly, is just tasteless, then you tried to get back with me when I was in a position of power only to save yourself," Wendy scolds him, most of her fellow housemates trying to hold back smiles at this tongue lashing. Stan rolls his eyes.

"Kyle," Wendy says, turning her focus on him, "Even though you are seen as my 'nemesis', I do respect you. Your apology was probably the only genuine one I got in the house since I became HOH, so my motive here was simple: I'm putting you on the block as a pawn against Stan," Kyle nods, "I think he is the one that deserves to go and I think most of the house agrees with me, but, ultimately, the decision is yours. If you really don't want to stay here, then we're not going to hold you back from leaving, so…that's it," she states with a sigh, "Meeting adjourned."

Stan stands up from his seat, grumbling under his breath as he passes Wendy. Kyle slowly walks up to her, waiting until everyone else has dispersed before he opens his mouth to speak, "Thank you, Wendy," Kyle states, barely matching her eyeline, his hands shoved in his coat pockets.

Wendy nods, her expression soft and inviting, "No problem."

…

An hour later, Stan and Cartman are back sitting in the boys room, the former lamenting over his seemingly-hopeless situation when Clyde bursts in through the doorway. "Guys, I think someone's having a panic attack!" he shouts, the brunette looking frantic.

Cartman rolls his eyes at the ceiling. "Oh God. Not that spaz again!"

"Actually, I think it's Kyle," Clyde states.

"Kahl?" Cartman repeats, stars forming in his eyes as he detaches a nearby camera from the wall to go film it.

Cartman rushes out the door as fast as his legs can take him, but he's still meters behind Clyde. The fatass stops in the living room, heaving a huge breath once he reaches the destination. Cartman looks up, finding the redhead clenching onto the sides of his head and sinking onto the living room carpet. Kyle crouches into a fetal position, hyperventilating, sharp pains burning in his chest. Immediately, Tweek races out from the HOH room to comfort him, gently pushing Kyle's head down between his knees and helping him through some deep breathing exercises, tears streaming down Kyle's face as Tweek does so.

"It's okay. You're going to be fine. It's alright," Tweek whispers, gently rubbing Kyle's back as Wendy and Craig watch worriedly from the sidelines.

Kyle nods, pulling Tweek into a loose side hug after his hyperventilating stops. He leans into his shoulder and cries.

Twenty minutes later, Kyle is still sitting on the carpet with Tweek, utterly exhausted and somewhat embarrassed after his panic attack, which he can only assume was brought on by his failing love life, along with the loss of his best friend.

Kyle sighs as Tweek rests a consoling hand on his shoulder, "I guess it's just hard because, well, you know, Stan's my best friend," he admits.

"Yeesh. You need better friends," Craig responds from his place against the wall, causing both Kyle and Tweek to look up and glare at him, "Sorry," he says, nervously itching the back of his neck, "I'm not good at comforting people."

"It's okay," Kyle sniffs, "I just hate how he wrecked our entire friendship and then tried to blame it on me, like it's somehow my fault that I'm an emotional wreck and that I couldn't take him cheating on me," Kyle sighs, fiddling with a strand of carpet, "It sucks because I know others tend to see emotional people as weak and view tears as some kind of fault. I'm sure you know what I mean, Tweek."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Tweek nods in understanding, "but I don't think you're weak, Kyle. You're one of the strongest people I know."

Kyle looks up, giving a small smile, "Thank you."

…

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Mess

Stan and I made a deal at the very beginning of this game to take each other to the final two…and obviously, that's not going to happen now.

…

Fifteen minutes later, Tweek and Craig both sigh as they reenter the girls room, the pair beat after comforting the residence's redhead. "Geez, that was rough," Craig states, plopping onto the bed on his stomach.

Tweek nods, taking a seat down on Craig's right, "Yeah…man, I never thought I'd see the day where I'd be the one talking someone else down," he laments.

"Honestly, I feel bad for him. Whatever that thing was out there, it sure didn't seem like Kyle."

Tweek sighs as he gazes at his boyfriend, "I know. Remember when he was dating Douchebag? Kyle was a whole different person. He was actually fun to be around."

"I remember," Craig admits with a nod, "I was as scared as you."

"But now he's just – I don't know – a shell. It's really sad," Tweek says, his eyes trailing to the floor; Craig's follow suit.

"Yeah," he replies, clasping his hands together as he watches Tweek start to fiddle with his microphone pack, "Hey, maybe we should have a fake fight, you know, to stir things up and add some life into this house."

Tweek nose laughs, standing up to adjust his microphone pack on the bed, "Did Token make that suggestion to you too?" Craig nods, "He wouldn't shut up about it with me when I was in the diary room this morning. Just let me fix this really quick first," Tweek states, adjusting the angle slightly as he puts the microphone pack back on his belt. Tweek looks up at Craig and breathes a sigh of relief, eagerly clapping his hands together, "Okay," he says finally, pausing to look his boyfriend over as Craig stands up to join him face to face. "You have a stupid face," Tweek smirks.

"Ouch, babe," Craig responds, sassily swaying his head side to side as he stares down at him, Craig's hands perched on his hips as he raises his voice for everyone to hear, "Oh, yeah? Well! You didn't think it was so stupid when you were kissing it yesterday!"

Tweek bites his knuckle, trying his best to conceal his laughter as he stares up at Craig's half-serious expression. Craig coughs once he makes eye contact, struggling to hold back his laughter as well but utterly failing when he sees the state of his boyfriend. "Shut up," Craig states weakly, "this is supposed to be serious."

"I know, I'm sorry. But I can't take you seriously when you make that face," Tweek chokes out, keeling over in laughter as Craig raises an eyebrow at him.

"What face?" he squeaks, "There's no face! Are you saying I'm ugly?"

"Yes," Tweek blurts out through a chuckle.

"Wow…" Craig states, putting on his best 'bruised ego' face, "Fuck you, dude."

Tweek stands up straight and shrugs, "Okay." Tweek springs forward and jumps into Craig's arms, the latter grunting as he quickly catches the blonde. Tweek wraps his legs tightly around Craig's waist as he feverishly kisses him. Craig takes a few steps back, stopping once he hits the edge of the mattress. He flops down on it, pulling Tweek with him. Craig moans as Tweek pulls away, the blonde's face flushed as he gazes deviously down at him.

Craig smirks through labored breath, "You are so evil."

"Uh-huh," Tweek states, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, "And what are you going to do about it?"

Forty minutes later, Tweek and Craig are lying down side by side, tangled up in their bed sheets, panting like crazy as they stare up at the ceiling. Craig sighs, still basking in the afterglow of their romantic escapade, his hand pressed to his dazed forehead. "Alright, so…that didn't work," Craig mumbles. The words laboriously fall from his lips, the noirette barely able to get a sentence out.

Tweek nods meekly and rolls to his side, draping an arm lovingly around his boyfriend and affectionately resting his head against Craig's naked torso.

…

Five minutes later, Clyde is walking down the hallway, scrunching his nose slightly when the familiar scent of coffee lingers outside the girls room door. Clyde cringes as he thinks back to what Craig said at the food challenge, hoping it doesn't apply to the smell too. He shivers. "Oh, good God."

"Hey, just be thankful they're still together," Kyle states, stopping by Clyde on his way to the bathroom, "Remember that week Tweek and Craig were broken up? Craig was a complete wreck and super clingy. It's like he couldn't function without him, and he followed you around everywhere. He even made you that friendship bracelet. Don't you remember?" Kyle wonders.

Clyde gulps, a pool of guilt reforming in the pit of his stomach, "Yeah," he admits, staring down at the spoken object wrapped around his wrist. Clyde sighs, a tear forming in his eye as he harbors over the void that Craig's recent absence has left in his life.

…

Twenty minutes later, Craig exhales as he steps out into the hallway, sporting a chipper mood that most people in the house would call content. Craig groans as he runs into Stan in the hall, his good mood instantly deflating at his rival's appearance.

"Hey, Craig. Do you got a minute?" Stan wonders.

"Nope, but I know you're going to take a few anyway, so come on, let's hear your lame-ass pitch," Craig caves with a grunt, his arms crossed.

Stan cocks an eyebrow, "I don't see why I would need to pitch anything to you. It's obvious that you're going to vote for me, even though this whole thing was Kyle's fault. That's why he had the panic attack."

Craig rolls his eyes, "God Stan, you're worse than me, and I pride myself on being an asshole. How do you live with yourself?"

"Oh, like you're one to talk," Stan retorts with a glare, "Just because you bang Tweek doesn't make you better than everyone else, Craig!"

"It doesn't?" Craig says, acting surprised by this news, "Are you sure? Cause Tweek's hot."

Stan huffs and folds his arms, "You know, just because I don't like things nice and boring like you do doesn't mean that-"

"Wait. I'm going to stop you right there," Craig states, holding his palm up. He quickly swerves on his heel and walks off.

Stan's face darkens. "You'll see, Craig! You'll all see!" Stan blares, unleashing his rage, "Kyle is a backstabbing mastermind and this may be your only chance to vote him off!"

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

As much as I hate to say it, Stan may have a point. (shudders) Ugh, just admitting that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

…

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

Stan and Kiel had a falling out recently, which is great for me cause that means they're no longer each other's number one. Now I can swoop in and take my rightful spot as first on their lists. I just need to decide who I want to go with in this game from now until I have to cut their throat. (smiles)

…

Stan and Cartman are sitting on their respective beds in the boys room, the former growing more and more anxious as the eviction ceremony approaches. "I'm worried, Cartman," Stan states into the silence, his stomach dropping as he stares across the room at his kind-of friend, "We need to take care of this little problem somehow."

"You're right, Stan. We're just going to have to kill Kahl," Cartman states, nonchalantly reaching under his mattress and pulling out a bat, "Now, I must warn you. I only have a wiffle bat, so this may take a while."

"What?! No, we don't have to kill Kyle!" Stan rebukes, his eyes widening at the weapon, "You're just going to have to vote to evict him tomorrow."

Cartman sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he flings the bat under his bed, "See, Stan? Shit like this is why you always have problems. You always take the long path to fix things, and you don't have any follow through! If I was you, Kiel would've already been dead by now, and I'd be swimming in his sweet, sweet Jew gold."

Stan groans and pinches his own nose, "You really gotta stop saying that."

…

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

Look, I'm usually not one to wedge myself into other people's relationships, but keeping Stan in the house over Kyle is something that won't be good for anyone emotionally.

…

That evening, Bebe peeks into boys room, seeing Kyle flopped down on his stomach, looking sorry for himself. Bebe sighs and gently shakes her head before stepping into bedroom and walking over to Kyle's bed, the redhead not even flinching when her shadow washes over him.

"Kyle," Bebe states firmly, her arms perched on her hips as she sternly stares down at him, "I mean this in the absolute nicest way possible when I stand here and say: What the hell is wrong with you?"

Kyle lifts his head up, her words shocking him to his core, "What?"

"You've spent all afternoon here moping around the day before evictions when you're on the block against the guy who everyone in this house now hates because he broke you and Wendy's hearts. Get mad! Get motivated! This is the man who used you and kept you in the dark for his own benefit and you're just going to lay down and die?"

"But Bebe-"

"Don't 'but Bebe', me!" she barks, ankles deep in her own pep talk as she hopes to channel his sadness into decisive anger, "You only get one chance at an opportunity like this, Kyle, and you're blowing it over some loser. Honestly, I don't care either way if you stay or go. You might win this game or, hell, you might even go next week, but I do know that if you give this whole thing up without a fight, you're going to be kicking yourself when you get to that jury house."

The room is silent, but Bebe's harsh words are still floating around them, the truth behind them ringing in Kyle's ears. Suddenly, Kyle pulls himself upright from the bed and stares down at the floor with a sigh. "You're right," he says into the quiet.

Bebe smirks, crossing her arms as she nods at a job well done, "I know I am," she coos.

"This is exactly what Stan wants. He wants me to give up, so he can cruise on by. Well, I'm not going to give him that liberty! He's already taken enough from me as it is," Kyle declares, his fiery attitude returning. He turns to the blonde and gives her a warm smile, "Thanks, Bebe."

…

Early the next morning, Clyde is nervously pacing the storage room in front of the fatass, the brunette restless after spending the last few days avoiding Tweek in the hopes of squashing what he assumes to be a mutual crush.

"I'm telling you, Cartman," Clyde states, stopping in place to continue their conversation, "Tweek likes me! He was acting like a nervous wreck around me two nights ago and all day yesterday, the same amount of time that Craig has been giving me the cold shoulder, then they had that big fight after the nominations," Clyde explains, getting more frantic by the moment, "I think I've accidentally created a rift between Tweek and Craig. I feel awful!"

"Why?" Cartman bellows, his arms crossed over his torso as he tries his best to look cool leaning up against the wall, "Now you can just swoop in and be Craig."

"But I don't want to be Craig. That's Craig's job!" Clyde cries, throwing his arms down exasperated as someone lingers behind the closed doorway. Clyde sighs, "Look, I came to you because I wanted you to help me squash my crush on Tweek, but all you've done this entire time is threaten to out me and offered me stupid suggestions that just made everything worse!"

"Fuck you, Clyde. I was trying to help you!" Cartman growls, stomping his foot like a toddler as he gets in Clyde's face, "It's not my fault you didn't want to make moves on the spaz."

"Because that goes against everything in the bro code! And I live by the bro code. It's the only thing I have going for me," Clyde wholeheartedly admits as he nervously takes a step back from the supposed killer, "And don't call Tweek a spaz," he adds timidly, "He really hates that word."

Cartman heaves a heavy sigh. He rolls his eyes up at the ceiling. "Oh my God," he huffs, "you are so deep up Craig's ass, it's not even funny, Clyde," Cartman mutters, hand to his face as he shakes his head.

"Good," Clyde replies confidently, "I like Craig's ass, it's tight-" Clyde halts, pausing slightly when he realizes the implication behind what he just said, "-Wait."

"Well, fine! If you want to be an ungrateful brat, then I guess I have no choice but to tell Craig your little secret," Cartman threatens, hoping to regain the upper hand.

"Fine, then tell him! I don't care anymore!" Clyde cries, praying that the truth will set him free for once, "I just want everything to be back to normal with my friends. That's all I ever wanted."

Outside, in the hallway, Craig is silent as he pulls his ear away from the door, small tears forming in the corners of his eyes as a strange, endearing feeling washes over him. "Oh my God," Craig whispers into the silence, the noirette in awe by this emotion, "I think I actually respect Clyde."

…

Five minutes later, Kyle is sitting alone on his bed in the boys room, anxiously picking at his nails as he ponders over the last few days in the house, the atmosphere thick and tense around him. Kyle flinches when he feels Stan's heavy shadow linger over him. "What do you want, Stan?" he asks, his voice wavering slightly.

"I want you to talk to me," Stan says matter-of-factly, standing over his former love.

"Well, you got your wish," Kyle sighs, pulling his hands away from each other to point one of them firmly at the doorway, "Now leave. I have nothing more to say to you."

"Do you really think you're in a position to go on here, Kyle?" Stan proposes into the dry surroundings, "You can't even look at me."

Kyle exhales and looks up, feeling all the confidence draining from his body when he sees Stan's face. "Ah, so that's why you came here, right? You wanted to break me."

Stan stands there and says nothing, causing Kyle to release yet another heavy sigh.

"You know Stan, you'd think you'd start rethinking your choices when the only person who can stand to hang out with you is Cartman."

"Well, at least I have someone who wants to hang out with me," Stan retorts, his words cutting through Kyle like a knife. Kyle folds up and crumbles, watching as Stan walks through the door and out of his life.

…

Fifteen minutes later, Kyle is lying down on his side in a fetal position, completely drained and defeated from his confrontation with Stan, his body devoid of all the motivation Bebe gave him earlier. Cartman peeks in through the doorway, Kyle not even budging when the fatass enters the room and plops himself down on the adjacent bed. Cartman sighs. He loves seeing Kyle down, but this is just pathetic.

Cartman clasps his hands together, his gaze to the floor as he soaks in the silence for a mere moment. "Kahl," he speaks suddenly, his tone warm and comforting for once, "I meant what I said last week; I really think my plan is a good one. But if you want to do this, you gotta get your head in the game, cause I'm not going forward with someone who's not all in on getting to the end with me."

Kyle sniffs, bewildered as he slowly pulls himself in an upright position. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and stares at Cartman, "Did you just quote High School Musical?" he asks.

"Kiel, seriously?" Cartman squeaks, flashing Kyle a look like he's a dumbass, "We could be unstoppable. We could run the whole house without anyone ever knowing. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal if you ask me," he states, standing up and walking over to the door. He stops in the doorway and gazes gingerly back at Kyle, "Just think about it," he states, tapping the door frame twice before exiting, leaving the redhead alone to think this over.

Kyle sighs, dangling in the silence for a moment, before quietly reaching into his pocket and pulling out the necklace. He stares down at it, clutching the piece of silver jewelry in his palm.

"Oh, Dee. What should I do?" he mulls.

…

Later that morning, all eight of the housemates are gathered in the living room, the two nominees – Stan and Kyle – situated on the lush lounge chairs while their friends and peers are seated on the two sofas around them.

"Alright, everyone. I hope you all slept well because it's time to cast your votes for eviction," Token states over the loudspeaker, "There are five votes this week; it takes three to evict. Like always, the two nominees, Stan and Kyle, are ineligible to vote as well as the Head of Household, Wendy," he explains, giving a brief pause, "One by one, I will call each of the five eligible housemates to the diary room to cast their vote. But before we do so, I'm going to give the two nominees one last chance to try to convince the rest of the house to keep them. Stan, you're up first."

"Thank you, Token," Stan firmly nods before looking up to face his fellow housemates, "Hi, everybody. I know I was not the most popular person in the house this week, but I'm praying that before each of you cast your votes today, you take the time to really think about what you're doing and who you want to go to the end with…because people like Kyle only get stronger as this game goes on," Stan says, Kyle raising an eyebrow at the backhanded compliment. "Thank you for your time and God bless."

"Wow, okay," Token speaks, a hint of shock in his tone, "I wasn't expecting a speech like that from you, that's for sure, but that was a nice surprise," he states, letting out a sigh, "Okay, Kyle, you're up."

Kyle nods and turns to the crowd, "Hi, everyone," he begins with a heavy sigh, finding it hard to push the words out, "I know this week has been absolute hell for most of you – myself included, but in great adversity, one finds their strength, and I would really like to stay here with all of you and continue moving forward," Kyle reveals, locking eyes with Cartman on the sofa, hoping that this statement tells him all he needs to know, "Thank you."

"Great speeches, everyone. Some real interesting sound bites there. Now, without further do-"

"Wait!" Clyde cries, springing up from his seat like the sofa is on fire. At this, all eight sets of eyes look at him, the back of Clyde's neck sweating at the pressure, "Before we all go to confessionals, I have something I have to say."

"Clyde," Token sighs, his tone restless, "if this is about your toenail collection again, I swear to God-"

"No, it's not that. It's something much more important," Clyde assures him, releasing a sigh so heavy that it could give Cartman a run for his money. Clyde claps his hands together, holding them up to his mouth in a silent prayer as he narrows in on his best friend. "Craig, I'm really sorry about everything that happened this week," Clyde states, Craig raising an eyebrow at the unexpected attention, "It was never my intention to cause any problems in your relationship, and I just really, really miss you a lot, so…" Clyde sniffs, tearing up at the thought, "I hope you haven't given up on our friendship completely," he speaks, awkwardly swaying as he stands there in front of the small crowd, "Okay, I'm done," he sighs, sitting back down in his seat next to Bebe briefly before springing back up again when he realizes he forgot something, "Oh, and I totally do have a crush on Tweek, but you don't have to worry because that's never going to go anywhere – Okay, now I'm done," Clyde announces, preparing to sit back down before once again stopping himself short, "Oh, yeah, and I may have accidentally said that I like your ass because it's tight, but that's not a gay thing, that's just a bro thing. – Okay, now I'm really done. I love you, man. No homo," Clyde claims, taking his seat.

All eyes immediately shift to Craig, Clyde's especially, as they await some sort of reaction from him. Tweek's eyes are softening from his seat next to Craig, appearing almost worried for him, while, beside Tweek, Wendy is attempting to look shocked. Clyde sweatdrops as Craig continues to stare straight ahead, speechless, looking like he is unsure how to process all that.

The sound of Token sighing breaks the silence. "Well, Clyde, thanks to that little speech, we now only have time to hear two of the five voting confessionals, so…way to go, buddy. Cartman, you're up first, fatass," he announces.

Cartman stands up, fuming as he wobbles over and points menacingly at the nearest loudspeaker, "Token, I swear to God, if you call me fat one more time-"

"-Fatass," Kyle states from his seat.

Cartman growls and angrily chucks a nearby centerpiece at one of the loudspeakers, heaving it with all his might. The loudspeaker falls and shatters on the floor, breaking into a million pieces while Cartman makes his way to the diary room door.

Token huffs, "Thanks a lot, fatass. Now I gotta order another one of those."

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

Kahl, this vote is strictly for appearances. I know you're not getting evicted tonight, but in order for our plan to work, no one can suspect that we're working together. That being said, today I vote to evict Kiel.

Cartman wobbles back to his seat, smiling smugly like he usually does after crushing someone's hopes and dreams. As soon as his colossal ass hits the sofa, Craig stands up and makes his way to the confessional.

"Craig, it's not your turn," Token notes.

"I don't care," the noirette states, flipping him the bird as he swings the door open.

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

Really? You cheat on your girlfriend with your emotionally-unstable best friend and you think I'm stupid enough to believe that this whole thing wasn't your fault? Fuck you, Marsh! I hope the door hits you in the ass on the way out.

Craig huffs as he swings open the door and enters back into the living room. Everyone quietly watches as he takes his seat back next to his boyfriend.

"Craig," Token sighs, almost exhausted by his groupmate's actions, "you never said who your vote was for."

"I VOTE TO EVICT STAN!" Craig yells, shooting glares at the fellow raven before redirecting his glare to the loudspeaker, his arms crossed, "There! Are you happy?"

"Um…yeah," Token meekly replies, a little terrified to speak. Sensing the tension, Tweek loops his arm around Craig's and holds his hand while patting his boyfriend's bicep gently with his free palm.

The remaining three housemates cast their votes with little to no trouble, going one by one into the diary room. Once the last voter, Bebe, returns, Token hovers back over the loudspeaker.

"Alright, everyone. The votes are in. When I read the name of the evicted houseguest, he will have one minute to gather his belongings, say his goodbyes, and walk out the front door," Token states as the nominees anxiously fidget in their seats, awaiting the results, "By a vote of 4-1, Kyle, I'm sorry but you're going to have to go unpack your things cause, Stan, you've been evicted from the Big Brother house."

Stan sighs, giving a lowly nod as he stands up from his seat to face his housemates. "Alright, cool. Have fun getting second, guys," he mutters as he carefully dodges the others who are getting up from their seats to give him the customary walk out.

"Stan Marsh is twenty-one-year-old, angry, two-faced liar. He's got no remorse, no redeeming qualities, and he just lost $500,000," the annoying voiceover judge's voice blares over the loudspeaker, a goofy soundtrack chiming in the background as Stan makes a beeline to the door, the other housemates lingering behind him, "And now, he's about to discover that being voted out wins him a one-way trip to the house of losers...and living with a hobo and a dairy product is even crazier than it seems. Stan Marsh is…evicted! Rate PG-13."

Stan reaches down and grabs his suitcase as the music stops. He turns to the left, almost falling onto the floor in shock when he sees Kyle standing a mere two feet away from him, his stance closed off but still firm. "Kyle," Stan states, "I mean this sincerely when I say good luck. But you gotta let go of these things cause you're not doing yourself any favors by living in the past," he says openly, talking like they are the only two people in the room. Stan throws his arm up while Kyle stares down at the carpet, looking like he is taking Stan's words to heart, "Bye, guys."

Stan exits the house, a few of the housemates muttering goodbyes behind him, minus Craig, who just shoots him the finger. The seven remaining houseguests walk back towards the living room. Craig hangs back by the door, purposely waiting until the rest of his fellow housemates disperse into separate areas of the house, his focus locked on Clyde. A few seconds later, only Tweek, Clyde, and himself are still in the hallway, the former heading towards the kitchen. Seeing his chance, Craig grabs Clyde roughly by the arm before the brunette can head in the opposite direction, Craig's expression unreadable as he pulls his friend along.

"I need to talk to you," Craig states, as flat as ever.

Clyde gulps, his mouth getting drier by the second as his heart rate speeds up, "Yeah. Sure, man."

Clyde shivers as Craig leads him undetected into the dark, secluded storage closet. Craig slowly closes the door behind them and turns on the light. Clyde is so terrified that he can't even look his best friend in the eyes as he scrambles to find another exit.

"Wait!" Clyde shouts, holding his palm up as Craig turns to face him, "Before you kill me, just let me write my will first…" Clyde stares up at the ceiling, "Token! Can you bring me a pen and paper?" he asks, hoping to lighten the mood a bit as he avoids Craig's intense, though now slightly-amused, gaze. Clyde sighs as Token ignores him. He drops his eyes and looks at his leader, "Craig, I'm so sorry," Clyde states, knowing the best thing he can do in this situation is to just be honest, "I never meant to jeopardize you guys' relationship. I messed up big time and I understand if you never want to talk to me agai-"

Clyde gasps, frozen in shock as he finds himself being enveloped into a back-breaking hug by none other than South Park's favorite stoic. Craig pulls back, sporting a slight smile, the brunette still stunned by the action. "I-I don't understand. I thought you hated me for putting you in this position."

"What position? So you think Tweek is cute? Dude, join the club," Craig shrugs, "You said you weren't going to do anything about it, and I believe you. Besides, I know Tweek would never go for you. You're not his type."

"Really?" Clyde squeaks, somewhat curious by this statement, "What's his type?"

"Me," Craig states, as if it's obvious.

Clyde rolls his eyes, "Oh my God. Cartman called; he wants his ego back," he cracks; the pair laughs.

"Speaking of Cartman, why the hell would you loop him in on this?" Craig questions, knocking the brunette playfully back in the shoulder with his hand, "You're such an idiot, Clyde."

"I know, but I'm your idiot," he coos, so relieved he's being forgiven that he doesn't even bother to ask how Craig knows that.

"Dude, you're already standing in the closet with a gay guy, please don't make this situation any gayer," Craig quips.

Clyde tilts his forehead, a fun-loving glint in his eyes, "Look, I still have your friendship bracelet," he reveals, dangling his wrist above Craig's head, the bracelet bouncing up and down on his flesh.

"Damn it, Clyde," Craig remarks, facepalming above the small smile on his face, his cheeks tinting red, "What did I just say?"

Chapter Text

"WOOHOO! STAN IS GONE!" Craig cheers, springing up out of bed the next morning. He races out of the room, leaving a bunch of his groggy housemates behind in their cocoon of blankets. Clyde turns to Bebe and shrugs.

"Stan's gone!" Craig cries once more when he reaches the center of the living room; Tweek is in the kitchen making coffee. Craig clasps his hands together in joy, "Doesn't the air smell fresher?" Craig takes a sharp inhale and chokes, almost coughing up a lung in the process.

Tweek quickly drops everything and runs to him, placing a hand on Craig's back as he crouches over. "Oh my God, are you alright?" he wonders.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

Stan is gone! This is one of the best days of my life. Now let's see here: first kiss, sleeping with Tweek, getting Stripe, getting back together, (counts his fingers as he lists them off; he smiles) – yeah, this is definitely in the top five.

…

Tweek Tweak
Extreme Coffee Addict

Craig is ecstatic that Stan is gone. I haven't seen him this excited since the Red Racer movie came out. I think it was a-

Craig bursts through the diary room doorway, screaming at the top of his lungs. He races over to the camera, throwing his arms up in triumph behind the sofa Tweek is sitting on. "YES! Stan is history!" Craig celebrates, leaning forward into the shot, "I just want to thank everyone who made this possible. I'd like to thank Wendy for nominating him and everyone in the house for kicking his sorry butt out!" he beams, Tweek giving a small chuckle behind him, "We made this happen, everybody! We made this world a better place for us all! WHOO!" Craig cries, before racing out the doorway to take another victory lap around the house.

Tweek laughs as he turns to the camera, "Yeah, he's pretty excited."

…

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Mess

Yesterday marked the third time in a row that someone from the boys room got evicted. I don't know if the other room has some kind of final five pact or something, or if I'm just being paranoid, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to put my feelers out and try to come up with a plan to ensure I make it to the final week.

…

"Alright, Kahl. Now's the time where we need to start mapping our way to the end and plotting what we need to do and who we need to get rid of in order to give ourselves the best chance at winning the money," Cartman states, the pair both sitting on Cartman's bed in the boys room, facing each other.

Kyle cocks his forehead, "But it's only Week 4," he reminds him.

"Exactly," Cartman replies, "It's never too early to start planning your enemies' demise, Kiel. Do you think I came up with that plan to destroy Scott in one night? This game is like chess. You always have to keep the end goal in mind as you plan your strategy accordingly from the endgame until now to get there," he explains, Kyle raising his eyebrow and flashing the fatass an impressed look, "So, who would you say is our biggest obstacle in the house that could keep us from winning the money, whether it be strategically, physically, or otherwise?" he wonders.

"Hmm…I don't know," Kyle answers honestly, after carefully thinking this question over for a moment, "Right now, it doesn't seem like there's a clear frontrunner," he states with a shrug, "No one aces every challenge or is in complete control of everyone in the house, and if someone were a really good player, wouldn't they be so good that we wouldn't even notice?"

"Interesting thought, Kahl, but I seriously doubt anyone here would be able to pull that off. We all know each other too well not to notice," Cartman concludes, scratching his chin as he ponders, "Still, if you had to declare a winner right now, who would it be?"

"Bebe," Kyle responds immediately, the fatass surprised by his quick response, "She hasn't made any enemies on the jury or in the house and she's pretty good at the competitions. She almost always places in the top three," he explains, before elaborating further on the thought, "Plus, no one's really thrown her name out yet, and I think she'd be able to manipulate a lot of the other people here into doing what she wants."

"Yes, that bitch is a crafty one," Cartman agrees, leaning back against the wall and casually resting his head in his hands, "I actually forgot she was here until you mentioned her just now. But if you ask me, I think Wendy is scarier, Kahl. She has all the qualities Bebe possesses, plus she now has that sob story thanks to what happened between her and Stan," he says, "All juries love a good sob story and if she makes it to the end, she's going to be tough to beat with that lingering in the air."

Kyle nods, "I guess I could see that," he states, cupping his knees with his hands, "So, what do you think our next move should be?"

"Well, obviously, if we want to be the ones running the show here, we're going to need to be in power as long as possible. The only way to ensure that you and I are the final two is for us to win every HOH competition from here on out."

"Cartman," Kyle sighs, leaning back slightly as he rolls his eyes, "the odds of us winning every HOH challenge from here on out is highly unlikely."

"But it is possible, Kiel," Cartman adds, "especially if we eliminate the most skilled competitors first, then the competitions will just get easier and easier for us to win. Think about how much of a cakewalk it would be for us to win these challenges if Wendy and Bebe are gone by Week 6," Cartman states, "I mean, we know Tweek can't win a competition to save his life, Craig doesn't care enough to try, and Clyde always chokes at the last second. If we eliminate the girls the first chance we get, that money is as good as mine-I mean, ours," Cartman quickly corrects with a smile as Kyle shoots him a glare.

Kyle sighs, "As much as I hate to say it, I really think you're right. The plan seems solid. Now all we have to do is make sure you or I win HOH this week, then we can start calling the shots. We just have to make sure we keep up this charade," Kyle reminds Cartman, his voice firm, "We don't want anyone knowing that we're working together, or else we'll both end up on the block."

"Alright, Kahl," Cartman agrees with a nod, "I promise I'll keep calling you a dirty Jew and keep making derogatory jokes about your mom," he states, sporting the biggest shit-eating grin he can muster.

Kyle groans, bringing his hand up to his aching forehead, "Oh, what did I do to deserve this?" he mutters.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Hippie Rights Activist

It's been a pretty rough morning here; I'm not going to lie. Stan left last night, and people keep forgetting that I'm still mourning the loss of my relationship, even though I was the one who put Stan on the block. It's weird because the only person who actually knows what I'm going through is the person Stan cheated on me with.

…

Later that morning, Wendy is sitting on her luxurious HOH bed, flipping through one of her chosen books from home. She perks up when she hears a gentle knock on her door. The door slowly inches open as Kyle pokes his head in. "Hey," he greets.

"Hey," Wendy greets back, her face softening as she puts her book down slightly, "How are you doing?"

Kyle sighs and steps into the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him, "I'm alright. How about you?" he wonders.

Wendy shrugs, "I've been better."

"I could imagine," Kyle responds, awkwardly plopping down in the lounge chair across from her. He clasps his hands together on his lap before shyly gazing up at her, "Did he, um, say anything to you?" he asks, Wendy instantly knowing exactly who Kyle is referring to.

She shakes her head. "Not much," she confesses, "He kept trying to figure out who threw him under the bus before nominations."

Kyle rolls his eyes. "Like that matters. It's his fault."

"Right, but you know Stan hates taking responsibility for anything," she huffs, looking down at the floor with a sigh, "I just feel so stupid though because part of me still likes him, even after he used me. But I guess when you date someone for so long, it's hard to just forget about them."

"Yeah," Kyle agrees, staring sheepishly down at the carpet, her words ringing through his mind.

"Stan was right, wasn't he?" Wendy speaks into the silence, daring to take a shot, "He was your rebound."

Kyle gulps, his throat dry, "I don't know about that."

"You don't?" Wendy states skeptically.

Kyle sighs, "Well, it would be crazy to say he wasn't right about a few things," he reveals, anxiously tracing circles on his kneecap with his finger before continuing, "The truth is he never really had my full attention."

"Kyle, if you don't mind me asking, why are you here? What do you want out of this? Cause it always seems like you're halfway out the door."

"I don't know," Kyle exhales, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, "I've been asking myself that a lot lately. I guess part of me hoped that doing this would help me move on from Dee and get some kind of closure, but honestly, I feel like I'm more lost than ever," he states, trying his best to keep his tears at bay, "I can only hope that once this whole thing is over, I've found what I've been looking for and I walk out of here better than before. I know that sounds kinda dumb, but-"

"-No," Wendy says, kneeling in front of the redhead and placing a reassuring hand on his knee, Kyle jolting up slightly at her touch, "It doesn't," she whispers, gazing up at him.

Kyle gulps as he locks eyes with Wendy, his knee tingling from the contact. His face flushes. "Um, uh, I should go," Kyle stutters, quickly snapping out of his seat and making a beeline for the door. He swiftly walks through it, leaving a puzzled Wendy behind on the carpet.

…

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

Now that I know for sure Clyde is over me, there's no reason for us not to hang out anymore, which is great news for me cause Clyde always has a tendency of making things more exciting. And if there's one thing this boring house desperately needs these days, it's fun.

…

Bebe is lounging in the backyard hammock, the sun blaring down on her as she sunbathes. Bebe sighs as she leans back, her two-piece, bright red swimsuit with matching sunglasses gleaming in the light as Clyde sneaks up behind her in the grass like a cheetah. Clyde pops up and flips the hammock over, causing Bebe to shriek and fall face-first into the pool. Bebe bobs her head above the water, shooting her ex a playful glare as he laughs from the sidelines. "Wow, Clyde. Real mature," she states with an eye roll, before swimming to the edge of the pool and putting on the best innocent smile she can muster, "Hey, can you help me out of here?"

"Sure," Clyde nods, completely missing the devious glint in Bebe's eyes. He walks forward and reaches his hand out, opting her to grab onto it. Bebe smirks and yanks Clyde towards her body, pulling him into the pool with her. Clyde coughs a few times as he flings his head above the water, "Wow, Bebe. Real mature," he jokes. Bebe thrusts her hand forward and splashes him.

…

A few hours later, all seven remaining housemates are gathered in the dining room, awaiting further instruction from their token black friend as they surround the table, which is covered with homemade pies. "Congratulations, guys…and girls," he quickly adds, before anyone can get offended, "You've all made it a third of the way into this game without getting evicted. I didn't think a lot of you would make it this far…especially Cartman."

"Aye!" Cartman barks, glaring up at the loudspeaker as Kyle snickers into his palm next to him.

"Anyway, enough with all the sentimental shit, let's get to today's luxury competition! For today's luxury competition, I need you guys to split into two teams: one with three housemates and one with four. Clyde and Tweek must be on the same team for this one."

"Why?" Kyle wonders.

Cartman rolls his eyes at the ceiling, "So Mr. Eat and Mr. Don't Eat balance each other out – duh, Kiel!"

"For once, Cartman is right," Token speaks above them, Cartman voicing yet another complaint at the jab in the background, "And because this challenge involves food and Clyde is participating, he must be placed on the smaller team," he explains further.

The housemates look amongst themselves, silently sizing up one another. Tweek reaches forward and grabs his boyfriend by the arm, pulling Craig in the middle of himself and Clyde. The remaining four houseguests gather into a team next to them.

"Great!" Token beams, "Now, as you can probably already tell, this is a pie-eating competition. Whoever finishes all twelve of their pies first wins a special reward: a three-minute phone call with a friend or family member of their choice. I know you guys have been missing the sanity of other people a lot, so hopefully this is worth playing for," he sighs, seeing Craig spring his hand up, "Yes, Craig?"

"I think you need to give the other team a better shot at winning this," Craig states flatly.

"Yeah, Token," Tweek chimes in agreement from beside him, "This competition isn't fair. We have Clyde. His stomach is a bottomless pit of destruction," the blonde elaborates, gesturing to his friend, "Our team is obviously going to win this thing. You should at least give the other team a five-minute head start."

"Damn it, Tweek. You're getting too cocky!" Cartman shouts with a huff and a sassy eye roll, "This is what happens when you date someone like Craig for ten years."

"Alright. Everyone take your places. The competition is about to begin," Token instructs, watching as five of the housemates, minus Tweek and Craig, take their places around the table and lean in front of their chosen pie. "On your mark…get set…go!" a bell chimes, causing the housemates to start digging into their plates.

Tweek and Craig stand back, not even bothering to move because they know they'd just be getting in the way of their friend's bottomless gullet. A few minutes later, Craig looks up, his eyes resting on the loudspeaker.

"Hey, Token. Can we have more pies? Cause Clyde already ate all of ours," Craig chimes, trying to bite back a smile at this comment.

Several of the housemates snap their heads up from their pie tins and gawk at the brunette, who is now rigorously licking his plate clean from the head of the table, making weird animalistic slurping sounds as he does so. "Jesus Christ, Clyde! You're worse than my trapper keeper," Cartman cries, slightly weirded out by the fact that he was able to finish all twelve pies in the time it took himself to finish one.

"Well, that wasn't even close," Token mutters, before looking down at the houseguests and clearing his throat, "I mean, congratulations, disjointed Craig and those guys team, you just won the luxury competition! Now all three of you will have the opportunity to call home," Token sighs as he sees Tweek's hand shoot up, bracing himself for a conspiracy-filled comment, "Yes, Tweek?"

"Can I give my phone call to someone else?"

"Um, sure. I don't see why not," Token responds as the other housemates exchange puzzled glances with each other.

Tweek smiles as he turns to the others, locking eyes with his choice, "Bebe, I hate my parents and I know you've been missing David a lot lately, so here you go."

"Really?" Bebe squeaks, "Aww…thank you so much, Tweek!" she chimes, tearing up as she pulls him into a hug.

Tweek laughs as he gently returns the gesture, "You're doing me a favor. Trust me," he tells her.

"Alright, Clyde. Before I have you three line up in front of the diary room, I need to know who you're calling," Token states above them.

"My dad!" Clyde replies, not having to give it a second thought as Token turns his attention to the noirette standing next to him.

"Me?" Craig speaks up, "I'm calling Stripe."

Cartman cocks his forehead, "Are you seriously going to talk to a guinea pig for three minutes?"

Craig folds his arms, "Stripe is more than just a guinea pig, Cartman. He's family," he states sternly.

"And I'm calling David!" Bebe quickly chimes in next to him, hoping to lighten the mood in the room a little in the process, "But I think everyone already knows that."

…

Fifteen minutes later, after everyone has returned from making their sentimental phone calls, Craig approaches Tweek while he is sitting on the living room sofa. The blonde is reading the newest edition of Ripley's Believe it or Not!, cringing as he flips through the pages.

"Hey, Tweek. Want to see my package?" Craig coos, giving a shit-eating grin as he holds an empty box of Wheaties in front of his waist.

Tweek looks up, letting out a small laugh as he stares at him, "That sounds like the start of a really bad porno."

"Oh no. Are you reading that Ripley's book again?" Craig states, narrowing his eyes at the cover, "Babe, you know it gives you nightmares."

"It does not," Tweek huffs, his eyes glossing over a photo in the book, "Oh God! What the hell is that?!"

Craig sighs and rolls his eyes as he takes a seat next to his boyfriend on the sofa, throwing the empty cereal box over his shoulder. Craig impatiently taps his fingertips against his kneecaps as he waits for Tweek's attention, but the blonde can't tear himself away from the book no matter how much it may cause him to shiver, freak out, and exclaim pieces of information in disgust from within its pages. Craig huffs and snatches the book from him, before Tweek gets into his usual phase of looking over his shoulder in blind paranoia every five seconds and latching onto Craig's arm in a vice grip. He holds the book over Tweek's head.

"Alright, that's enough of Mr. Grotesques Book here," Craig states deadpan, "Any more horrifying images and you're going to have trouble sleeping tonight."

"I already have trouble sleeping at night," Tweek huffs, attempting to reach around and grab the book from him.

"Yeah, but you'll spend all night twitching and hugging my arm until I'm going to have to calm you down with se-" Craig stops suddenly, his eyes glimmering in realization. He quickly hands the book back to him, "On second thought, keep the book," he states as Tweek reaches near Craig's crotch to grab the item, "Whoa, babe. You can't just go grabbing for it," Craig jokes, his mouth in a simper, "You remember what PC Principal said."

Tweek playfully rolls his eyes, "You're such an asshole," he smiles as he snatches the book from his boyfriend.

Craig cheekily smirks, "No, that was the second part."

…

Wendy beams as her best friend enters the HOH room, Bebe's expression surprisingly dazed and troubled for someone who just received a reward. Bebe stops in the center of the room, her eyes glued to the lush carpet. "So, how was it?" Wendy chimes, eager to hear anything from the outside world as she shifts excitedly on her bed. "Did he say how he was doing? Did he say how he thinks you're doing? Come on, girl, you gotta spill the deets!"

"He broke up with me," Bebe states, still in disbelief, her voice echoing through the room.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

The hardest thing about living here is the lack of privacy in this house, so sometimes we just have to get creative.

…

Cartman struts into the living room, glancing at the others on the sofa, who are quietly talking amongst themselves, a few of them giving Bebe sympathetic pats on the shoulder. Cartman cocks his forehead as he scans the area, "Where are Gay 1 and Gay 2?" he wonders.

Tweek and Craig fall out of the closet, a mere three feet to the left of him. Cartman perks up as he stares down at them, a raunchy joke on the tip of his tongue. To the surprise of everyone, the fatass steps forward and casually waves the situation off. "Nah, it's too easy," he mutters, walking over to the sofa to join the others, leaving a confused Tweek and Craig behind, sprawled out on the floor.

Tweek rolls onto his stomach, turns to Craig, and shrugs.

Five minutes later, the entire house is situated on the two sofas in the living room, waiting for Token's newest announcement. Tweek is sitting between Craig and Kyle, trying his best to straighten his hair out with his fingers, which is even messier than usual due to his previous romantic escapade with his boyfriend.

"Hello, everyone, and thank you for joining me in the living room," Token states over the loudspeaker, his voice causing several of the contestants to stare up at the ceiling, "As you are probably well aware of by now, I don't usually talk to you guys twice in one day, so something is clearly up," Token says, taking a pause for dramatic effect, "Statistics have shown that viewership tends to go down around Episode 4, so it's time for us to spice things up a bit."

Craig stiffens in his seat between Clyde and Tweek, his arms crossed as he stares wide-eyed at the loudspeaker, "Oh God, I do not like where he is going with this…"

"As you know, the theme here on Big Brother has always been 'Expect the Unexpected.'"

"How would we know that?" Craig cuts in, "This is literally the first season of the show!"

Token clears his throat at the rude interruption, "With that being said, it's time for the first Viewers' Choice of the season. Viewers' Choice is when the audience gets to vote on which houseguest they want to see receive a reward or endure a rather cruel punishment. Here is this week's Viewers' Choice question. Please direct your gaze to the television," Token says as the houseguests all turn to look at the TV screen, which is now displaying the question on it, "Which of these houseguests would you like to see handcuffed to their ex for an entire day?"

"Wait, what?!" Kyle cries, his face as red as Cartman's jacket as he sees all seven of their names appear below the question.

"That's right, Kyle. Whoever the viewers pick will have to spend all day tomorrow handcuffed to their ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend," he coos, clearly enjoying the houseguests' horrified reactions.

"What about me?" Tweek chimes, raising his hand up slightly from the sofa, "I don't have an ex."

"Don't worry Tweek," Token states, giving a hearty chuckle, "We've found someone even better for you…your father."

Tweek's eyes fill with dread, "Oh good God, no!"

"As you can clearly see, this house has a way of dismantling weak relationships and strengthening strong ones, so tomorrow will be the ultimate test to see how much you've grown since you all got here."

"Goddammit, Token. I hate you so much," Cartman fumes as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"You-you can't be serious about this, right?" Kyle states weakly, surprised he is even able to choke the words out, "I mean, it's not like any of them would agree to come…right?"

Token laughs, "Nonsense! Anything is possible with the power of money!"

"Which one of my exes did you pick? I have so many," Clyde wonders, choosing to remain calm in the sea of panicked housemates.

"Lisa."

"Oh," Clyde replies, pleasantly surprised by this news, "She was nice."

"And hot!" Cartman adds, nudging Clyde playfully in the ribs, "Didn't you see that photo of her?" Wendy glares at the fatass.

"Yep, we've contacted all of your exes and invited them to come on the show. Some of them were easier to convince than others. But in the end, we managed to get all of them to agree to it. Except for Heidi, at first, who originally threatened to sue us until we bribed her enough to come on," Token elaborates.

Cartman huffs and crosses his arms, "Ha! Classic Heidi."

"But don't worry. She said she'll come if Cartman gets the votes. Craig," Token states, pausing slightly to address the noirette, "we had a hard time actually figuring out which girl you dated, but thanks to Facebook, we managed to narrow it down," he says, Craig shrugging at this information, "Unlike most of the other participants, Tweek's dad jumped on the opportunity cause he said Tweek isn't doing a good enough job promoting the family business on here."

"Well sorry, Dad," Tweek huffs, rolling his eyes from the sofa. He turns to the camera, sporting an over-exaggerated smile, "Come to Tweek Bros Coffee. It's fuckin' gay!" he exclaims, animatedly flashing fake gangsta signs at the cameras. Next to him, Craig holds his stomach in laughter.

"Now Bebe, since Clyde is your only ex and he already lives here in the house," Token continues, Bebe sniffling at these now-false words, "we had to find someone just as annoying to act as your replacement ex-boyfriend. And thanks to some rigorous casting, I am happy to announce that we found that someone, and don't worry, he's just like Clyde. If Clyde had a lisp and diabetes…"

"Oh no…" Bebe mutters, shaking her head as she facepalms.

"So now, to celebrate the occasion and give all of you a little taste of what you may be in for tomorrow if the audience picks you, here's a little intro video to all the exes…" Token declares, circling his mouse on the monitor and pressing the play button on the bottom left-hand corner of the screen. A window pops up and starts playing the video, full-screen. Cartman cringes when a closeup of Heidi Turner's face flashes on it.

"Eric Cartman was the worst boyfriend I ever had. He smelled, he was rude, and he had some serious psychological issues. He even tried to kill me!" she cries, staring distressfully at the camera.

A familiar brunette pops up on the screen. "Hi, I'm Scott Malkinson and I have diabetes," he announces proudly in his signature lisp, taking out his blood glucose meter from his fanny pack to test himself, "I don't know much about Bebe. I don't think we've ever spoken to each other before, but she seems cool on TV."

Suddenly, a blonde girl with short hair that few recognize appears onscreen, her facial expression soft but troubled, "Huh. I really don't remember a lot about this Craig person," she states, staring down at a photo of Craig that Token handed to her before gazing back up at the camera, "Are you sure I dated this guy?"

Next to Craig, Clyde laughs from his seat. "Of course she's blonde," he mutters.

Craig snaps his head to right, "What does that mean?" he questions, glaring daggers at him.

Clyde chuckles, smiling smugly as he leans back on the sofa, "You have a thing for blondes, Craig," he clarifies, nudging him playfully in the side with his elbow as Lisa appears onscreen, "Ooh, that's for me!"

"I like Clyde," Lisa states with a grin, "I think he's a really nice person. I mean, we only dated for a few weeks, so there were no hard feelings between us."

The houseguests give puzzled expressions as Token shows up on the television. "Wendy is a very intelligent woman – definitely way out of Stan's league," Token explains, flashing his perfect, pearly-white teeth, "Honestly, that relationship never made any sense to me."

"True that," Bebe adds with a nod.

Tweek groans as his father pops up onscreen. "My son Tweek is gay," he exclaims proudly in his typical calming tone, "I would say the gayest thing about him is his boyfriend, Craig. I wish he would do more gay stuff on camera cause business has been slow lately and us without coffee is like a rainbow without it's glow-"

"Um," Token cuts in off-camera, "that didn't answer my question, Mr. Tweak." Tweek facepalms from the sofa.

Finally, the camera cuts to the infamous farting heartbreaker herself, sporting the same expressionless look she always has. Kyle's breath hitches in his throat when he sees her on the TV. "What do you think of Kyle, Douchebag?" Token asks off-camera as he holds the microphone up to her face. Douchebag blinks twice and stares blankly at him.

"Come on, you gotta have something to say about him. You guys dated for four years for Christ's sake!" Token declares, moving the microphone closer to her. Douchebag blinks once more and shrugs.

The living room is silent as the screen turns black, indicating the end of whatever the hell that video was. "So, there you have it, folks! At this time tomorrow, one of you will be handcuffed to your ex and be forced to spend the whole day with them. Good luck, and may the television audience have mercy on your souls," Token coos, before dramatically taking his hand off the 'talk' button.

"I can't believe it," Cartman speaks into the deafening silence as his fellow housemates continue awkwardly exchanging glances with one another, "I can't believe that bitch has the audacity to throw out lies and strut in here like she owns the place!" he shouts, his face filled with fury.

"Cartman, calm down. She hasn't won yet," Craig mutters as Tweek anxiously twitches next to him on the sofa. Craig grabs his hand and gently rubs it.

"Come on guys, you know she'll find a way to rig it. She wants that sweet, sweet money, and I can't see Heidi! She's the reason why I don't like girls anymore."

Kyle abruptly turns to the side, locking eyes with Cartman, "What?"

"What?" Cartman replies dumbly, staring off blankly into the distance.

Kyle sighs, already tired of the fatass's antics, and it's only two thirty. "Look, this isn't that bad, okay? Only one out of the seven of us is going to get picked, so most of us are freaking out over nothing."

"Kiel's right, yew guys," Cartman states, the words burning as he spits them out, "One of us is just going to have to take the fall here. I pick Tweek," he adds, gesturing over his shoulder at the blonde.

Tweek shrieks and clings onto his boyfriend, "Ack! Me? No way! I don't want to spend quality time with my father. The last time I did that, he went on a five-hour monologue about the wonders of topsoil," he states, shivering at the memory.

"Well, I don't want to win this! Everyone knows I was leagues above Heidi. I was clearly the victim in our relationship."

"Clearly," Wendy huffs, crossing her arms as she rolls her eyes at the ceiling.

"Look, Cartman, at the end of the day, it's not really our decision. So why worry about it?" Kyle questions, hoping to soothe the aching pounding of his own heart.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Mess

(clasps hands together in prayer as he stares up at the rafters) – Please, God. Please don't make me do this! I already had hemorrhoids! What more do I have to endure?

…

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

I swear to God, if yew guys send Heidi, I'm grounding all your parents up and making them into chili.

"No, he's not," Token interrupts over the loudspeaker.

Cartman scowls and folds his arms in a huff as he glares up at the ceiling. "Fuck you, Token, you black asshole!"

…

Clyde Donovan
Human Garbage Disposal

(smiling) Oh, this'll be fun.

…

Tweek Tweak
Extreme Coffee Addict

(frantically gazing around the room) I knew it! I knew the gnomes were out to get me!

…

Wendy Testaburger
Hippie Rights Activist

Do what you guys want. I trust your judgement.

…

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

I don't even know who this Scott Malkinson kid is!

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

(shrugs) Whatever.

Chapter Text

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Mess

I didn't sleep at all last night and I threw up twice this morning, so this was definitely the worst night I've had here so far. I wish it was just noon already, so I can finally see if my life is over.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Single Sane Houseguest

Kyle and I have been spending a lot of time together lately. I like him. He's great company, and it feels nice to really get to know him again. We're lot more alike than I originally thought.

…

Early that morning, Wendy and Kyle are sitting on the bed in the HOH room, sorting through the snacks in Wendy's basket, hoping to distract themselves from the impending doom that is coming this afternoon. "Are you worried?" Wendy speaks, setting a bag of trail mix on the mattress as she stares up at him.

"Yes, I don't think I've ever been so anxious," Kyle answers blatantly. He shudders, "God, is this how Tweek feels all the time? I feel like my heart is going to fly out of my chest."

Wendy nods, pausing slightly as a haunting thought creeps up in her mind, "You don't think Token would bring everyone anyway, do you?"

"I doubt he's that evil," Kyle sighs, "But, honestly, anything is possible."

…

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Mess

Token just called us to the foyer, and everyone is super anxious because we have no idea who's going to be walking through that door.

…

"Alright, everyone. It's time to reveal which one of you won Viewers' Choice," Token's cheery voice announces as he stands, in person, in front of the seven housemates, all of them looking like they'd rather be anywhere but in the Big Brother house right now, "As you know, whoever received the most votes from the viewers will be forced to spend all day handcuffed to their ex, but, tell me, what fun would it be if only one of you had to suffer through the atrocities of having an ex in the house?"

"Oh God, I do not like where he is going with this…" Craig shudders.

"That's right!" Token beams, "Cause what I didn't tell you yesterday is that any houseguest who receives one or more votes is going to have their ex visit the Big Brother house today."

"WHAT?!" Kyle cries as Wendy flashes a troubled expression next to him, the redhead's heart sinking in his chest, "But-but you said whoever they picked-"

"-would have to spend all day handcuffed to their ex, yes," Token completes, "And since everyone received votes, you all have to put up with them," Token states, pausing slightly as the houseguests start voicing their complaints beside him, "Hey, I'm being nice here; I'm only making the winning houseguest spend all day handcuffed to their ex. Aren't I the sweetest?"

"Oh God. I think I'm going to pass out," Cartman mutters, his head spinning.

"Perfect! So let me explain a little bit more how this works before I reveal the results of the poll," Token announces, sounding like he is having the time of his life, "Whoever won Viewers' Choice will be handcuffed to their ex until midnight tomorrow. The winning HOH will be given a key to unlock them at today's HOH competition, so whoever won Viewers' Choice better hope that they have a good relationship with the newest HOH, or else they could be stuck with their ex a little longer than they anticipated."

Cartman rolls his eyes, "Fantastic," he mumbles as Kyle frantically shakes beside him, hugging his thin, trembling body, "Are you done, asswipe?"

"Yes," Token answers smugly, "So, let's get to it now, shall we?" The housemates gasp as Kyle takes off running down the hallway. "What happened?" he wonders, a few of the housemates blocking his view.

"Broflovski ran," Clyde replies with a shrug.

"Damn it! Wendy, go get him," Token instructs. Wendy looks over at him and nods before starting the task. Token sighs, "Somehow I knew we were going to have a runner."

A few minutes later, Wendy returns, a distraught Kyle reluctantly trailing her. He crosses his arms and glares at Token, his eyes red as he sniffs back a tear.

"Okay, so, here we go!" Token beams as enthusiastically as possible. The housemates flinch when they hear someone ring the doorbell, "Tweek," Token states, narrowing in on the twitchiest housemate. Tweek shrieks when Token calls on him, "I haven't messed with you enough this season, so why don't you answer the door?"

"Ack! Gah! Uh, no thank you," Tweek squeaks, barely getting the words out as he holds his quivering self, "I'm good here."

"Nonsense!" Token beams, giving a hearty chuckle, "Go answer the door and unleash some fun into your housemates' lives."

"Nuh-uh," Tweek responds, frantically shaking his head as he continues to shiver.

Token sighs as Craig pats the blonde gently on the back before making a beeline to the door, "Tweek, I swear to God-CRAIG! DON'T YOU DARE ANSWER THAT DOOR FOR HIM!"

Craig rolls his eyes as he grabs the doorknob. He looks up, giving Token the finger with his free hand as he twists open the handle.

"That's right, everyone!" Token exclaims, hoping to sneak one last introduction in before the winner is revealed, "The winning victim-I mean, housemate-is…drumroll please…"

"Well, hiya, Craig!" Richard Tweak greets, giving a joyous wave to his son's boyfriend as he stands in the doorway holding a small suitcase.

Craig groans, "Oh no…"

"Look, son. It's Craig!" Mr. Tweak beams, gesturing enthusiastically at the noirette as he stares at his offspring.

Tweek sighs, already feeling the frustration building up inside him, "I know, Dad."

"Welcome Mr. Tweak, and let me be the first to congratulate your son on winning Viewers' Choice this week!" Token states once Mr. Tweak enters into the house and joins the others in the foyer. He grins as he stands next to Tweek, who looks like he is about to vomit.

"Well, I'm just happy that there's so many people out there who love gay coffee," Mr. Tweak replies, the housemates and host already struggling to understand what he's going on about, "It's like I always tell Tweek: people like people who like other people, but nothing beats the power of a good cup of joe…except we don't serve joe, that brand is too expensive," he states with a smile, Tweek's brain throbbing next to him.

"Um…right. Of course," Token says, not sure what exactly to say to that as Craig joins Tweek and his father in the center of the foyer, "Okay, Mr. Tweak, before you came into the house, I gave you a pair of handcuffs. I'm going to need you to clip one to your wrist and one to Tweek's wrist. Opposite hands cause that's the easiest way to do this," Token adds, watching as Mr. Tweak gives a nod and pulls the handcuffs out of his pocket.

Tweek groans as his father handcuffs them together; Cartman snickers into his palm behind them, "Man, what a cockblock. That sucks for you, Craig," he says, the noirette raising an eyebrow at him.

"Don't worry, son," Mr. Tweak speaks, "You can still do gay stuff with your boyfriend. You'll still have one hand free, not to mention your mouth-"

"Oh my God, Dad, stop!" Tweek pleads, turning beat red as he facepalms with his free hand, Craig frowning next to him. Craig wraps an arm around Tweek, pulling him close to his chest, careful not to drag his father with him.

"This is already going great so far, so let's bring in the exes!" Token blares, "I'm going to let them in one by one, so that they can introduce themselves. All of you other houseguests must stay in the same room as your ex until midnight, except when one of you has to go to the bathroom. Tweek, that exception goes for you and your father as well. I'm not that cruel," Token adds.

"You're not?" Craig mutters.

Token huffs into the crowd, "And don't just lock yourself in the bathroom all day to avoid them, cause then I'll take away those privileges from everyone," he states, choosing to dismiss the sass, "Now turn your attention towards the door as the lovely Heidi Turner makes her entrance!"

Everyone turns towards the door, the fatass rolling his eyes as his ex-girlfriend steps in through the doorway. She stops in place and waves both hands at the housemates, "Hi, everyone!" she beams with her best cutesy voice, "It's great to see all of you."

Cartman shakes his head and huffs, "Well, there she is: the bitch herself," he moans, "I'm surprised you're actually on time for once. Usually you're an hour late."

"Eric, come on, can't we just be civil?" Heidi wonders, doing her best to suppress her anger into a tiny, little ball as she walks towards him. Cartman cups a hand over his mouth, making bass drum noises for each individual step she takes.

"Obviously not," Kyle mutters, watching as Heidi stands between him and the fatass.

"Kyle," Heidi gives a nod, barely acknowledging his existence while she turns towards the door, "Where's your farting skank?" she huffs.

"Don't worry; she's coming," Token states, before Kyle can get a word in, "But first, here's everyone's favorite diabetic lisper…Scott Malkinson!" he boisterously announces.

One person loosely claps as Scott enters the room. "Bebe! It's great to meet you in person!" Scott beams, racing over and hugging Heidi.

"Geez, Scott. What show were you watching?" Cartman remarks.

"Uh…Scott, that's not Bebe. Bebe's the blonde who isn't vigorously latching onto their boyfriend," Token tells him.

"Oh. Sorry," Scott Malkinson says, quickly stepping away from Heidi.

"That's okay," Heidi replies, "It's not the worst hug I've ever had," she quips, shooting a glare at Cartman.

A young woman with short, blonde hair walks over to the group. She stops in place and gives a small wave to the crowd, "Hey, guys. I'm Charlene," she greets, pausing slightly when she sees everyone's blank expressions, "You know, Craig's ex?" she elaborates.

"Oh, yeah!" Clyde coos, pretending that he remembers her along with the others, "…Huh," he states, waiting until after she passes by him to lean into Craig, "Dude, you totally have a type. She looks like Tweek," he whispers, raising both of his eyebrows smugly.

"What? No, she doesn't," Craig snorts, discreetly peering at her over his shoulder, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Charlene walks up and stops beside Tweek, noticing his shirt is the same color as her sundress. "Hey, nice outfit," she compliments with a smile, "I like the color."

"Thanks," Tweek beams.

Craig turns to the side, staring back and forth between them while Clyde continues sporting the biggest shit-eating grin on the planet. "You were saying?"

Craig sighs and stares straight ahead, "I still don't see it," he grumbles.

"Oh my God!" Charlene cries, spotting the shiny, silver contraption sitting on the kitchen island, "Is that a Grindmaster 5000?!"

Clyde stands up straighter, flashing a pompous expression. Craig facepalms.

"Hi, Clyde!" Lisa Berger greets, pulling her ex into a warm hug, "It's nice to see you again. You look great," she says, pulling back from the hug and holding him at arms' length. A few feet away, Bebe swallows as she watches them, a tight knot forming in the pit of her stomach.

"Don't say shit like that; he'll get a swelled head," Cartman grunts.

Lisa chuckles and turns to the side, taking her position next to her ex.

"Ignore him, Lisa. It's good to have you back," Token says, before pausing for dramatic effect, "Now, to remind you of how nice I truly am, the person who placed last in the poll won't have to spend all day with their ex. And would you look at that? It's me!" Token reveals after taking a halfhearted glance at his phone, "What a shame I won't have to put with any more of you peoples' shenanigans today. Congratulations, Wendy!"

Wendy nods, smiling slightly, even though she can feel the tension ricocheting off the redhead standing beside her, "Oh, um…thanks?"

Clyde steps up behind Token and glances curiously over his shoulder, "Your phone says it was a three-way tie."

Token eyes widen as he quickly snaps his hand over the blabbermouth brunette. "Shh!" Token hushes. He turns, seeing all the houseguest shooting him death glares. Token rolls his eyes, "Alright, fine," he caves, "I'll let the other two last-place finishers choose if they want to see their exes or not, cause Wendy already told me earlier that she doesn't care either way if I spend the day with her. So, Clyde and Bebe, what do you guys think? You wanna spend the day with your exes?"

Clyde nods, "Yeah, I wanna spend time with Lisa," he beams.

"And I don't mind if Scott stays either," Bebe tells the host, "It'd be kinda awkward to ask him to leave seeing as he's already here…"

"Fair enough," Token replies. Kyle gulps, feeling his legs turn to jello as he looks towards the open doorway, knowing exactly what is coming next. "Well, that's it, everyone! Enjoy your day with your exes! I'll be back for the HOH competition this afternoon. Until then, try not to kill each other – or do, it might be good for ratings."

"Wait, that's it?" Kyle states, a bit of life returning to his voice as he dares to be hopeful for once, "There isn't anyone left?"

"Nope," Token states, flashing a devious smirk that most of the housemates miss entirely, "You're all free to go live your lives," he says, watching as some of the houseguests begin to disperse into other areas of the house with their exes, "Oh, Kyle? Can you get the door?"

"Uh, sure. I guess," Kyle states with a shrug.

He walks into the hallway, stopping in place when he finds himself face-to-face with Douchebag, who has just quietly entered the house. Kyle stares into her eyes, frozen in shock as he hears his heart pounding in his chest, the pair standing about ten feet away from each other.

Douchebag carefully lifts her hand up and waves, her expression soft and unmoving.

"Oh, uh, hi," Kyle greets, surprised he even has the strength to blush lightly at the greeting.

Douchebag steps towards him, causing Kyle to let out a pathetic whimper and fall backwards, passing out on the floor. "…!" Douchebag's eyes widen as she races over to Kyle in concern, kneeling over him as she stares down at his face. She reaches forward and grabs his wrist, quickly checking for a pulse.

"Uh oh. Did Broflovski pass out?" Token interjects as he steps back into the room; Douchebag nods, "I had a feeling that would happen. That's why we put down a carpet. Hang on, let's get medical on the scene," Token states, giving a huff as he shakes his head at the fainted contestant, "Unbelievable," he mutters as some of the other houseguests enter the scene to see what's transpiring.

"Now wait just a minute, Token," Cartman huffs, reluctantly hobbling after Heidi, "Are you sure Kahl's not just faking this for attention?" Douchebag shoots him a death glare; Cartman shrugs, "What? I'm just saying it's a possibility! After all, Kiel is such a drama queen. One time, when everyone at school ignored him for a day, he seriously thought that he died. It was hilarious."

"That was you, fatass!" Kyle fires from the carpet.

"Kahl, you're alive!" Cartman beams.

"I know," Kyle rolls his eyes as he slowly comes to, "You must be so sad about that."

"Actually, I'm ecstatic, but I'll pretend I'm sad for your sake."

"Progress," Clyde whispers, nudging Craig playfully in the side with his elbow. Craig nudges him back, causing Clyde to fall to the floor with a thud.

Wendy leans forward and extends her hand out to Kyle. He smiles, flushing slightly as he takes it. "Thank you," he squeaks, once Wendy successfully pulls him up. Kyle turns to the side, eyeing Douchebag, who is still watching him carefully, a worried expression spread across her face. Kyle brings his fist up to his mouth and awkwardly clears his throat.

Five minutes later, Tweek is standing in the kitchen with his father, struggling to open a jar of pickles with his one free hand, Richard giving him unhelpful tips as he does so. "Now Tweek, remember what Dr. Norris said. The key to opening a jar is to become one with it."

"Dr. Norris never said that!" Tweek cries, throwing the jar down on the kitchen counter in frustration, the sound of the impact catching Craig's attention from across the room. Tweek shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to find his center – something that Dr. Norris actually did tell him.

Craig walks into the kitchen, Charlene trailing him. "Here," Craig states, picking up the jar and tugging on the sides of the lid. Craig sweatdrops as it doesn't budge, all three sets of eyes now on him. "Shit. Hang on, I got this." Charlene raises an eyebrow next to him. After a few moments of cursing and straining, Craig sighs, setting the jar defeatedly on the counter, "Wow, there must be some serious voodoo magic shit going on here. The jar is probably cursed-" Craig pauses, stopping himself slightly when he eyes the terrified look on Tweek's face, "-But, you know, in a good way, to lock in the flavor."

Charlene rolls her eyes, picks up the jar, and twists it open in one swift motion. She hands it back to Tweek. "It's all in the wrist," she states with a smile as the couple gaze at her in astonishment. She steps back a bit, feeling rather awkward, "Uh, I'm just going to go over there now," she adds, gesturing vaguely over her shoulder.

"Ah, so it's all in the wrist, huh?" Richard states, rubbing his chin ponderously, "Just like a hand job."

"-And I lost my appetite. Thanks, Dad," Tweek grumbles, setting the jar back on the counter.

"Aww...come here, babe," Craig coos, pulling Tweek into a side hug, doing his best to ignore the set of eyes staring at them as they press their lips together.

Richard scrunches his forehead as he takes a step closer to them, examining the couple carefully, "Come on son, you gotta use more tongue than that! Really work those muscles!" he beams.

Tweek quickly pulls away from Craig, equally disturbed and pissed off by his father's comment, his face as distorted as Richard's sense of morality, "That's it; I have to do it," Tweek declares bluntly, "I have to gnaw my own arm off." Tweek turns to his left and starts biting at his shoulder.

"Tweek, no," Craig states, some emotion surprisingly present in his flat tone.

Richard raises his eyebrow curiously as he watches his son bite at his shoulder. After thirty seconds of struggling to even make a tear through his sleeve, Tweek sighs and gives up, "Damn it! I can't even get through my shirt," he cries, slouching forward in defeat, before turning to his boyfriend, "Craig, the fabric is too thick. You do it."

Craig turns towards him, gazing at his boyfriend sympathetically. He sighs, "I'm not going to gnaw your arm off, babe."

…

Fifteen minutes later, Craig and Charlene are sitting on one of the living room sofas, staring off into space, a few awkward conversations trickled in between long lapses of silence. "So…you're gay," Charlene speaks suddenly as she stares at the carpet.

"Yep," Craig answers, giving a light nod.

"And the blonde guy with the creepy father and the good fashion sense is your boyfriend?"

"Yep."

"Oh," Charlene states, staring behind Craig's shoulder and taking a glance at Tweek, who is standing across the room yelling at his father, "Honestly, I'm kinda surprised you are, considering you were always hanging out with that blonde chick."

Tweek perks up slightly at this comment. He turns to Craig, mouthing, "Who?"

"You," Craig mouths back, before redirecting his attention to Charlene, "No, that was him."

"Oh, so you've been gay for a while then, huh?" she wonders.

Craig nods, letting out a large sigh that he didn't even know he was holding, "You have no idea," he mutters. "So, uh, what about you? Are you still straight?" he asks flatly.

"Um, yeah. I have a fiancé, actually," Charlene replies, reaching into her purse and pulling out a photo. She hands it to the stoic, "See?"

Craig glances down at the photo, completely oblivious to the fact that Tweek, Richard, Lisa, and Clyde are all gathered behind the sofa, staring at the picture as well. The photo shows bubbly, smiley Charlene dressed in a baby blue sundress with her arms around a tall, black-haired, stern-looking man.

"Dude," Clyde speaks up from behind them, saying what most of the others are thinking, "he looks like Craig. Creepy…this is like an episode of The Twilight Zone."

Craig snaps his neck around and glares at the brunette, "Will you get out of here?" he barks, before quickly handing the photo back to its owner, "But I will agree, your fiancé is attractive."

"I never said that," Clyde mutters, "I just said he looked like you-oww!" Clyde cries, rubbing the spot on his bicep where Craig just punched him.

A few minutes later, Craig is standing with Tweek and Richard near the backdoor of the Big Brother house, watching as Charlene makes herself a cup of coffee with Clyde and Lisa sitting at the dining table nearby. "So, what do you think about her?" Craig asks his boyfriend.

"She seems nice," Tweek states with a grin.

"Yeah, but I still can't figure out why I dated her. There must've been some reason…"

"Eek! Is that a spider?!" Charlene shrieks, scurrying back from the island and pointing frighteningly at the creature, "Those are so poisonous! What if it's out to get me?! Eeee! I'm too young to die!" Charlene crouches down and cowers next to Tweek, who is now equally freaking out next to her, the pair hugging each other for dear life as they scream at the top of their lungs.

Clyde gets up from his seat at the table and smugly leans up against the back wall, crossing his arms as he gives a knowing smirk to his best friend, "Man, Craig. You really do have type."

…

Thirty minutes later, Bebe is sitting on one of the living room sofas, looking like she is bored out of her mind as Scott Malkinson continues blabbing on about the wonders of diabetes next to her. Finally, after what seems like hours, Scott redirects the topic to something way more tolerable, "So Bebe, what kind of things do you like?"

Bebe exhales, giving a small smile as she prepares to dive into some of her hobbies, "Well, there's-"

"-I like diabetes," Scott Malkinson answers quickly, "Well, I don't like having it, per se, but it's a huge part of my identity."

"Really?" Bebe hisses, trying her best to stay under control, "I hadn't noticed."

"JESUS CHRIST, HEIDI! WILL YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?! I CAN'T GO FIVE SECONDS WITHOUT YOU BREATHING DOWN MY NECK!" Cartman shouts, storming onto the premises, Heidi trailing him like a little bird. Everyone in the room immediately turns to them, settling in to watch the show.

"We're supposed to stay in the same room, Eric! I'm just following what Token said!" Heidi fires.

"Just admit it, Heidi, you came here to make me suffer! Causing me distress is your bread and butter! And I just so happen to know that you don't have a gluten allergy!" Cartman barks, matter-of-factly, as he folds his arms over his chubby torso.

Heidi huffs, clenching her fists at her sides, "Why do you always think I'm out to get you? Can't you see it's over? I've moved on, Eric! I want nothing to do with you! I only came here to get my money. You really think I want to spend all afternoon with a lard ass?"

"Oh, that is it, Heidi!" Cartman yells, flames in his eyes, "Say bye-bye to your little parents! Cause the next time you see them, they'll be staring at you from your bowl of chili!" he threatens, his dark tone causing a chill to run down the other housemates' spines.

Heidi rolls her eyes, waving this off like it's a gnat, "Oh, please. You've said that ten times throughout our relationship. When are you finally going to follow through with it?" she sasses, hands on her hips, "You're always all talk and no action."

"Holy shit," Clyde mutters from his place standing behind Bebe, "She's as evil as Cartman," he states, grabbing Lisa's hand and giving it a squeeze, "Come on, Lisa. Let's get out of here before they see us." Lisa nods.

Bebe watches as Clyde leads Lisa into the hallway. She blinks twice, a strange, unfamiliar tinge of jealousy forming in the pit of her stomach as Cartman and Heidi get into a rather heated screaming match in front of her.

…

"-And that was when I decided that I wanted to enroll in culinary arts school," Lisa completes, giving a small smile as she finishes her story, sitting on one of the unoccupied beds in the boys room with Clyde a few minutes after they escaped from the living room.

Clyde nods, seemingly impressed by her thorough response. "Wow, that's awesome, Lisa. I'm really happy for you. It sounds like you've found your calling," he beams, "After I finished my Business degree, I just moved back in with my dad," he sighs, picking at his nails. He looks up as Lisa places a reassuring hand over them.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Clyde. I think it's really great that you're helping out your dad. Not everyone would be nice enough to do that."

"Yeah, I guess," Clyde snorts, biting his lip slightly, "But, I don't know, ever since I was little, I had my whole life planned out, and I guess now I'm disappointed cause it's not looking at all like I thought it would be. I mean, I'm in my early twenties, I'm still single, I'm living with my father…honestly, part of me is surprised I even graduated college."

"But you did," Lisa reminds him with a grin, "And you should be really proud of your accomplishments."

Clyde smiles as he gazes up at his friend, "Man, Lisa, why did I ever dump you?"

"Cause we were ten?" Lisa quips, giving a small laugh, before her mouth shifts to a smirk, "Besides, I'm pretty sure it was me who dumped you, Clyde. It was a stand against all boys, remember?"

Clyde laughs, "I remember. I was crying for weeks," he playfully confesses.

…

An hour later, Tweek and his father are sitting side by side at the dining room table, eating lunch together, which, in the typical Tweak manner, consists of nothing more than fifteen cups of coffee, the mugs sprawled out carelessly on the hardwood surface. Tweek sighs, twitching anxiously as he nervously fiddles with the silver handcuff clasped around his wrist.

"Son," Richard speaks up suddenly, after fifty glorious seconds of quiet, "we gotta talk about this whole gay thing."

Tweek faceplants on the table, already cringing at the awkwardness that is about to ensue, "Oh God…"

"It's just-I don't think you're putting out enough on national television, Tweek," Richard explains. Tweek lets out an elongated, distressful groan, banging his head softly on the table, "Don't get me wrong, I mean, seven times is nothing to sneeze at, especially when coffee is involved, but don't be afraid to really explore all your sexual urges," he states encouragingly to his mortified son, "Why, when I was your age, your mother and I were screwing like rabbits. I remember one time when we ran out of protection, we just took a coffee filter and-"

Tweek growls, snapping his head up to glare into his eyes, hoping to bore some sense into his father's gelatinous brain, "Dad, for the love of God, please stop."

"-and wait until you hear what we did with the coffee grinder…" Richard beams.

Tweek throws his head back as he shrieks at the ceiling, gripping onto the side of the table with his one free hand to keep himself from breaking, "THIS IS WHY I'M NOT WELL-ADJUSTED!"

Nearby, Token is in the living room, scanning the area for any potential drama when his cell phone dings in his pocket. The host retrieves it, his face filling with shock as he unlocks the screen and reads the message on his device. "Well, this changes things a bit," Token states, the loudness of his voice causing several of the housemates to peer in his direction. Token sighs as he walks over to Tweek and his father, "Tweek, I've just received word that you didn't win Viewers' Choice…it was actually Cartman, so we're going to uncuff you now."

"Really?!" Tweek squeaks, almost falling over in excitement as he springs up out of his seat, the rest of the houseguests gathering around him, "Oh, thank God!"

"…and we're going to handcuff Heidi to Cartman," Token completes, turning to the fatass behind him and flashing a shit-eating smirk.

Cartman snaps his fingers, "Goddammit!"

"That's right, fatass. Enjoy the freedom while you still can," Token gloats, before turning back to the twitchy blonde and uncuffing him with the key. Tweek rubs his wrist and takes two gigantic steps away from his father the second the handcuffs come off. Craig joins him by his side, "Tweek, since I wrongly cuffed you to your father for two hours, you can either take five hundred dollars as compensation or punch me in the stomach."

Tweek swings forward and instantly punches him in the gut; Token winces.

Craig smiles, "Good choice, babe."

"Token," Cartman states, cautiously backing away from the host as he slowly approaches him and Heidi with the handcuffs, the fatass frantically waving his hands in front of his torso, "Don't do this. It doesn't have to be this way! You can still save your parents!"

"Sorry, Cartman, but according to the public, it does," Token smirks, before leaning forward and snapping the handcuffs onto Cartman and Heidi's wrists, his stomach still throbbing from Tweek's killer punch, "Have fun," he winks.

Cartman locks eyes with Heidi and groans. He turns back towards the wall, shakes his head, and mutters under his breath as he stews in his now-broken personal bubble, "God, I hate him so much."

…

Fifteen minutes later, Kyle and Douchebag are sitting awkwardly in the boys room, the pair not having said a word to each other since the incident in the foyer. They are sitting on parallel beds, facing one another. "So, um…it's great to see you, I guess," Kyle states, feeling like he is taking a shot in the dark with his ex.

Douchebag nods, her eyes still glued to the floor.

Kyle sighs, "What happened to us, Dee?" he wonders, asking more for his own sanity than wanting a genuine answer. Douchebag shrugs.

Kyle eyes widen. He leans forward in anticipation as he sees his ex-girlfriend opening her mouth. All of a sudden, a horrendous shout blares from the living room. The pair spring up from their mattresses, "What the hell was that?!" he cries.

Douchebag and Kyle race into the living room, just in time to see Scott Malkinson getting whisked away on a hospital stretcher, all of the remaining housemates gathered in the center of the living room, watching in worry. Token tisks as he watches the medical team wheel Scott out the front walkway, the host dressed in typical summer attire: a t-shirt, shorts, and sandals. "Man, we've had a lot of incidents today."

Cartman crosses his arms, "Well, what did you expect when you invited our exes?" he huffs, still fuming from his fight with Heidi.

"Uh, is Scott going to be okay?" Kyle wonders, hoping to get up to speed with whatever the hell just happened.

"What? Oh, yeah, he'll be fine," Token answers when he narrows in on the redhead, "He just had some diabetic shock. The medical team just gave him some glucagon. Now," Token announces, clapping his hands together, "let's head to the backyard to begin the most important HOH competition to date!" he exclaims, hoping to add some pep back into the house.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Mess

As scary as the whole Scott situation was, I really don't want to be put on the block again. So, I just gotta put this whole Douchebag thing behind me for a moment, stay focused, and make sure I win this competition by any means necessary. Wish me luck.

…

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to today's HOH competition!" Token states once everyone has successfully gathered in the backyard in front of the swimming pool, "Wendy, as outgoing HOH, you are ineligible to compete this week," Token reminds Wendy, who is sitting off on the shaded side of the backyard in a lounge chair. Wendy smiles and gives a small wave to the cameras, "Because your exes and Tweek's father are here, this competition is going to be a little bit different than usual."

"Please tell me it's not going to be, like, a make-out competition or something," Bebe mutters.

"Um, no. That would be wrong, and Craig would kill me," Token replies, quick to dismiss the housemate's worry, "Now, for today's competition, you and your partner must stand on a single platform above the water. But, I must warn you, this platform is small, and in order for both of you to stay on it, you have to hang on to each other for dear life," Token explains with a smile, "Whoever drops last is the new HOH. This competition may last ten minutes, or it could last all night. Since I'm oh-so-nice, and to give everyone a fair shot, Cartman and Heidi will be uncuffed for this competition."

"Thank God!" Cartman cries as Token walks over and uncuffs him and Heidi with the key.

Token turns back to the group, "For this challenge, I recommend changing into bathing suits cause a lot of you are going to get wet."

"Man, Kenny would've had a field day with this," Clyde comments.

"I know, that's why we purposely waited to do this one, so he wouldn't lunge," Token casually replies, "One more thing, since Scott Malkinson went into a state of diabetic shock and we had no time to replace him, Bebe will have to compete in the competition with Clyde, which means Clyde will now have two partners and will be simultaneously competing for both himself and Bebe."

"Why don't you just do the competition with her?" Craig wonders.

"Because I'm wearing Gucci sandals."

Tweek raises his hand, "Do they even make Gucci sandals for men?"

Token shifts his eyes and clears his throat, "Moving on…I'll give everyone ten minutes to change and to take your positions on your platforms."

Ten minutes later, all of the housemates, minus the outgoing HOH Wendy, are standing on their platforms above the swimming pool as Token paces the floor below them, making sure everyone is properly situated before they begin the challenge. Token stops in front of Cartman and Heidi, who are standing six inches apart on a twelve-inch platform, and peers up at them, "Guys, if you want to win this challenge, you two are going to have to get closer," Token informs them.

"Gross!" Heidi shudders, pulling herself into a hug, "I don't want to hold Eric!"

Token cocks his eyebrow, "Well, you should've thought of that before you dated him," he quips.

Craig nose laughs as he shakes his head at the dig, "That's brutal, Token."

"Ugh, fine," Heidi caves, inching a bit closer to Cartman and looping her arm around his, "But this is only because I don't want to be the first one out."

"Speaking of being out…Tweek," Token says, turning to the blonde with a smirk, before stopping suddenly, "Wait, wrong person…Cartman," Token names instead, "even though you and Heidi have only been handcuffed together for about a half an hour, how's it been being strapped to your ex?"

"Token," Cartman begins, releasing a dramatic sigh, "I can honestly say it's been nothing short of pure torture. And actually, I think pure torture would be more pleasurable than this."

"Spoken like a true asshole," Craig quips.

Cartman snaps his neck as he turns to the stoic, "What?"

Craig smirks, "You heard what I said."

"Alright, everyone. I hope you're all comfortable because this competition starts now!" Token declares, once he successfully reaches the end of the line, "I find it interesting that all of guys have chosen to stay in their same outfits, but all of the girls have opted to change into swimsuits except Douchebag, who is still wearing her classic, over-sized sweater," he adds, matter-of-factly.

Heidi rolls her eyes at the clouds, "Cause heaven forbid she looks like a girl for two seconds."

Douchebag glares at her.

Fifteen minutes later, all six of the pairs are still standing on their platforms. Tweek and Cartman are reluctantly hanging onto their partners while the rest of their housemates seem unfazed by having to do so, minus Kyle, who is bashfully turning away from the crowd as he holds Douchebag.

Cartman laughs, sensing the Jew's discomfort. "Oop. Kyle popped a boner," he smirks.

Kyle snaps his neck around and snarls at him, "Shut up, fatass!"

"You know," Richard begins, Tweek flinching beside him as he feels another metaphorical ramble coming on, "this reminds me of the story of when I first got into the coffee business-"

Tweek, finally having had enough of his father's shenanigans and stories that never seem to go anywhere, pulls his hand back and shoves him off the platform. "Oops. Sorry, Dad!" Tweek states after Richard flails off the side of the platform like a guppy and lands face-first into the water. Tweek jumps in shortly afterwards.

"Tweek and going down first. Name a more iconic duo," Token quips from the sidelines. Tweek glares at the host as he pulls himself out of the pool.

"Hey, Bebe," Heidi chimes after a moment of quiet concentration, "I heard David broke up with you."

"Now really isn't the time to discuss this," Bebe mutters, not even bothering to make eye contact with her ex-friend, her arms still wrapped around Clyde.

"Why not?" Cartman counters, "We've got nothing else to entertain ourselves with!"

"I don't see why this even concerns you, Heidi," Bebe responds, choosing to ignore Cartman, "It's not like you ever dated him."

"True, but that's only because I didn't want to," Heidi boastfully reminds her; Bebe rolls her eyes, "He did have a massive crush on me, and he was the only person who liked me in elementary who wasn't a pathetic loser," she adds as she flashes Kyle a malicious smirk.

Kyle's eyes trail sorrowfully to the swimming pool; he sighs. Next to him, Douchebag looks like she is about to slap someone as she narrows her eyes at the brown-haired instigator. She lifts her hand up and pinches Kyle's nostrils shut.

"Dee, wh-what are you doing?" Kyle falters, his voice as nasally as Craig's. Kyle hears her body rumble, "Oh no," he mutters.

Douchebag clenches her core slightly before releasing the smelliest fart that the houseguests have ever had the misfortune of smelling and aiming it straight at Heidi. Heidi shrieks and starts frantically waving her hands in front of her face, the odor so foul that it causes her eyes to sting. Several of the other housemates immediately plug their noses, hoping to salvage what's left of their clean air. A few of them cough into their palms.

"Oh my God, it smells like death!" Heidi cries, hacking a few more times into her hand, "What? Did you eat twenty burritos beforehand?" Kyle smirks as Heidi continues to freak out about the odor, before eventually caving and hopping off the platform, so she can find some clean air.

"Goddammit, Heidi!" Cartman curses as she races into the house.

"And just like that, Heidi and Cartman are out!" Token announces, still pinching the bridge of his nose shut, "But please," he states, eyeing a beaming Douchebag, "don't do that again." Douchebag nods and shoots him the OK gesture. Kyle looks over to her while she is staring at the host, shooting a touching smile in her direction.

An hour later, both of the fallen pairs and Wendy are sitting off at the side of the house as they watch the four remaining teams go at it, Cartman looking positively miserable as he is reattached to his ex-girlfriend. Token smiles as he claps his hands together, gazing up at the competitors, the air clean and fresh around him after the help of thirty household fans positioned around the lawn, "Alright. How is everybody doing?"

Clyde grins, starry-eyed as he stands smack dab in the center of Bebe and Lisa, the two of him clinging onto him on either side, "Not gonna lie. I'm in Heaven, Token," he beams.

"Great. Now let's bring on the thunderstorm!" Token announces, an evil glint in his eyes as he dramatically shoots his arms up.

Fake thunder noises rumble from the loudspeakers above the participants. The contestants groan as a giant bucket of water tips over above them and releases its contents, the water soaking each of the remaining contestants from head to toe.

"Damn it, Token!" Craig cries, wiping some of the water droplets away from his eyes.

"Eek!" Charlene screams before turning to her partner, her hair feeling ten times heavier due to all the water, "Is he always like this?" she wonders.

Craig nods, gritting his teeth slightly as new water begins pelting down on him. "Trust me. He's usually worse," he mutters.

Charlene shivers, hugging her body as she stares down at the vast swimming pool below them, droplets of water making ripples in its smooth surface, "Um, out of curiosity, how intent are you on winning this?" she asks her partner.

Craig shrugs, "I couldn't care less honestly."

"Perfect. Wanna get eliminated?"

Craig smiles and nods, "I knew there was a reason why I dated you." They both jump down and land into the pool with a splash.

"And just like that, Craig and Charlene are out," Token narrates as Craig helps Charlene out of the pool beside him, "We're down to three: Kyle and Douchebag, Clyde and Bebe, and Clyde and Lisa. Who will win the coveted HOH?"

Kyle leans forward a bit into Douchebag's ear, vulnerable and on the verge of tears, "I need this, Dee…" he whispers, "I've been on the block twice in a row," he states, gripping onto her arm. Douchebag moves her head back slightly, looks into Kyle's pleading eyes, and nods.

A half hour later, the three remaining pairs are still standing on their platforms, the sun lowering on the horizon. "Alright, guys. We're now an hour and forty-five minutes in and no one's close to falling, so it's time to shake thing up!" Token beams, taking out a remote control and pressing the bright red button on it. The platforms begin to shake.

"Whoa!" Clyde cries as the platform starts to wobble, the trio still hanging onto each other like their lives depended on it. Both Bebe and Lisa start to slip off. Clyde darts his eyes in panic, realizing he can only save one. He quickly grabs Bebe and hugs her close to his chest. Lisa slips off and falls into the water. "Sorry, Lisa! It was natural instinct!" he apologies.

Lisa smiles as she pops her head above the water, "It's okay, Clyde!" she assures, gazing up at her partner.

"…And in a strange turn of events, Clyde has eliminated himself in favor of sparing Bebe," Token announces to the crowd.

"How is that a strange turn of events? That's exactly the kind of person Clyde is," Craig states from the sidelines, Tweek asleep on his shoulder. Clyde looks down at Craig and smiles in appreciation, giving a small sniff.

Fifteen minutes later, the two remaining partners tense up as water pelts down on them again, this time from the roof. Bebe glares down at Token, silently cursing him under her breath.

Douchebag's eyes widen as she teeters on the edge, the platform now shaking violently under them. Thinking quickly, Kyle pulls her into him, holding her protectively to his chest as the water falls down on them. "It's going to be okay, don't worry," Kyle states weakly, barely able to get the words out, "I'm never letting you go again." Douchebag gazes up at him deeply, eyes sparkling from the sun.

"Kahl, quit your Notebook-level shit and get your head in the game…or not," Cartman quickly adds with an awkward eye shift, just now recalling that he's trying to keep their alliance a secret, "You're embarrassing everyone!" Cartman cries from the sidelines.

Two hours and fifteen minutes into the competition, Token finally stops pelting the contestants with water, giving the two remaining pairs time to relax as they approach the final leg of the challenge. "Congratulations on making it this far, you guys. It's clear to me that both of you really want this," Token states, smugly holding up the HOH room key, "But only one of you can be this week's HOH. Who will win this battle of endurance?" he questions to the crowd.

Kyle groans as he shifts awkwardly on the platform, his legs growing stiff underneath him, his whole body hurting, "Dee, I don't think I'm going to last much longer. My knees are giving out and I'm getting blisters."

Douchebag gestures to her back and pats twice on it, signaling for Kyle to climb on. Kyle cocks an eyebrow, in disbelief that she is suggesting this, "Really? Are you sure?" Douchebag nods.

Kyle gets behind her, hesitantly grabbing onto her shoulders. He stops suddenly and snaps his fingers, an idea popping into his brain, "Wait. Hang on a minute." Kyle moves back and unzips his jacket, throwing it onto the lawn behind him.

Token's eyes widen as Kyle starts stripping off some of his clothes, "Whoa! Careful there, Broflovski. This is a G-rated show."

"We crossed that line a long time ago," Craig quips, his arms crossed.

"Damn. Kyle really does have a nice ass…" Clyde states, checking the redhead out next to him.

Finally, Kyle takes off his signature green hat and chucks it onto the grass before climbing onto his ex's back, piggyback style, the redhead now just sporting pants and a t-shirt. "Fartkour!" Kyle playfully exclaims, hoping his plan to make himself lighter by removing clothes will help them out in the long run.

Douchebag chuckles, Kyle blushing at this response.

Token yawns as the contestants approach the five hour and twenty-five-minute mark, most of the other houseguests asleep on the lounge chairs behind him as the night sky lingers above them, the moon softly illuminating the four remaining participants.

"God, her lower back must be killing her," Craig states, gesturing lazily to Douchebag, who is still carrying Kyle on her back. Tweek nods.

"Well, I'll admit that this challenge has gone on way longer than I thought possible. You should all be very proud of yourselves," Token says, pacing the side of the pool below them. He stares up at the remaining competitors, all of them so fatigued that their legs are shaking. Douchebag sighs and wipes some sweat from her brow. "Who knows? At the rate this is going, we could be here all night-"

"Whoa!" Bebe shrieks as she falls into the water, Clyde losing his balance shortly afterwards.

Kyle quickly slides off Douchebag's back, the pair gazing at each other in shock.

"And with that, Kyle and Douchebag have won this week's HOH competition!" Token announces, no one looking more surprised than the winners themselves as Cartman smiles discreetly from the sidelines, "Come here and get your HOH key, Broflovski! Along with this extra one!" Token adds, holding up the key that unlocks the handcuffs as well.

"Whoo!" Kyle cheers as both himself and Douchebag cannonball into the swimming pool. They swim to the side and emerge from the water.

"Here, Douchebag. You do the honors," Token states with a devious smirk, handing the HOH key to Kyle's ex. She takes it from him and puts the necklace around Kyle's neck, the redhead joyously pulling her into a hug. Wendy gazes at them from the sidelines, having a hard time masking the tinge of jealousy from her face.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Love-struck Know-it-all

It's mine! It's all mine! We won it fair and square. (proudly holds the key up) I went from being on the block twice to being the next HOH. (beams) – I love this crazy game.

…

A few minutes later, everyone trickles into the living room, several of the housemates shooting their congratulations to Kyle as they do so. Token smiles as he points towards the front door, where none other than Scott Malkinson, strapped to a wheelable IV, is standing. "Good news, everyone," Token states, clapping his hands together and turning towards the others, "Scott Malkinson is back!"

Craig stops in place and cocks his eyebrow, "How exactly is that good news?" he wonders.

"Ouch, Craig," Clyde says, cringing slightly next to him, "That dude has a family."

Tweek slowly raises his palm as he looks to the host, "Uh, shouldn't he be in the hospital?"

"Nonsense, son!" Richard cuts in, raising his hand in point, "Hospitals are for people who don't have coffee."

"God, your childhood must've been rough," Token comments.

Tweek sighs and stares at the carpet, "You have no idea," he mutters.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to get a beer," Clyde announces ten minutes later, once his fellow Craig and those guys group members have cleaned up, changed, and gathered on the sofas with their partners. He turns to Charlene, who is fiddling with her hair, "Would you like one?"

Charlene shakes her head, shooing the offer away with her hand as she holds her stomach. "No, thank you. I'm actually three-months pregnant."

"Is it Craig's?"

"Clyde!" Tweek shrieks as Craig glares offendedly at the brunette.

Clyde holds his hands up, "What?" he squeaks, "For all we know that could be the twist this season!"

"Um, no," Charlene speaks suddenly, after most of the others forget that she is there, "It's my fiancé's: Trent."

"Well, congratulations," Craig replies, hoping to deter the awkward points of this discussion as quickly as possible, "I'm surprised Token made you do the challenge."

Clyde cocks an eyebrow, "You can still go swimming while you're pregnant, Craig."

"How would I know that? I never had to worry about that problem," Craig states with an eye roll. Charlene laughs.

"…and here I was thinking you were just fat," Clyde states, eyeing Craig's ex, "No offense."

"None taken," Charlene responds, eyebrow raised, "But if you said that to most pregnant women, they would probably punch you in the face."

Craig smirks, nudging her playfully in the side with his elbow, "Do it. Punch him," he states, egging her on, "Token won't evict me for it."

Charlene chuckles once more, "I'm good. Thanks."

Meanwhile, Bebe and Wendy are sitting on the kitchen island pretending to listen to Scott Malkinson's latest ramble about the power of diabetes. Wendy gulps and jolts in her seat when she sees Kyle and Douchebag slip into the HOH suite across the room, the two sporting the biggest smiles of the evening. Bebe turns to the side, eyeing her best friend's expression suspiciously.

"I don't get it," Wendy whispers, fiddling with the pastel pink headband she is wearing over her black locks while Scott continues rambling in the background, growing more animated with each word he utters.

"Get what?" Bebe wonders.

Wendy snaps her neck to the side, surprised that the blonde heard her. "Um, nothing," she lies.

"Uh-huh," Bebe replies, skepticism lacing her tone as she looks her slightly frazzled best friend over. She sighs, "Why can't you just admit it, Wendy?"

Wendy tilts her forehead, "Admit what?"

"That you're jealous of Kyle and Douchebag," Bebe states, casually picking at her nails.

"What?!" Wendy cries, her reaction so loud that it causes Scott to quit ranting for a moment, "That's insane! Why would you even think that?"

"Because you haven't stopped watching them or shut up about her and Kyle since she got here," Bebe recalls, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Wendy huffs, rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of Bebe's words, "It's not that, okay? I just don't think it's a good idea for him to rush right back to her. We both know she's just going to take off and break his heart again."

"Uh-huh," Bebe states, gazing up from her nails with a knowing smirk, "Whatever you say, girl."

"I mean it, Bebe, I am 100% not interested in him," Wendy states firmly, crossing her arms as she glares at the kitchen backdrop.

Bebe snorts as she stares up at the ceiling, "If you say so."

…

Five minutes later, Tweek is sitting in the corner of the living room with his father, the former looking dead inside after enduring yet another metaphor-filled story about coffee. "So, son, why didn't you call me the other day?" Richard asks; Tweek perking up at the surprising change in topic, "Your mother and I know you won the luxury competition."

"You do?" Tweek squeaks, bewildered by this news, "I-I didn't know you and Mom were watching the show. I thought you said you were only going to read the online recaps to see if, you know, I'm marketing the business and 'being gay enough' cause the show's on at the same time as Wheel of Fortune," he states with an eyeroll.

"Oh, we're not, and I do. We heard it from the Malkinson's," Richard replies, waving it off with his one free hand.

Tweek sighs as he anxiously fiddles with the carpet beneath them, "Yeah, that sounds more like you."

"Honestly, Tweek, we're both surprised that you're still here. Craig must be doing a good job of carrying you."

Tweek stops in his tracks, the statement causing a pool of anger to flow into his stomach, "Craig is not carrying me. And he can confirm that."

"Sure, he's not, Tweek," Richard states with a condescending pat on the knee, "You can believe whatever you want, son."

"Err…he's not. I'm doing this myself!" Tweek cries, feeling tears prickle in the corners of his eyes, "You know what? I don't have to justify myself to anyone, especially not to you! And if I could storm away right now, I would…but I can't cause I have to stay in the same room as you, so I'll just turn away in disgust!" he yells, dramatically swiveling on the carpet.

…

Tweek Tweak
Angry Bottom

My dad seems to think that my life is meaningless and that I'm just an extension of Craig who can't do anything on my own, and you know what? Five years ago, I would've believed him, but now? Fuck that. I'll show that asshole who's calling the shots around here! (face softens) – I love you, Craig, but it's always been clear who makes the decisions in our relationship.

…

Later that night, Cartman is pacing in the hallway, grumbling under his breath as he waits for Heidi to get out of the bathroom. Cartman stops in his tracks, eyes widening, when he sees Kyle and Douchebag heading down the corridor. Thinking quickly, Cartman runs forward, grabs the pair by the wrists, and pulls them into the storage closet, the redhead protesting when the fatass locks the door.

"Quick! Heidi's in the bathroom, so we don't have much time, but she's totally driving me nuts, yew guys," Cartman tells them, turning disheveled towards the pair, who are eyeing each other skeptically, "Kiel, you're going to have to kill her for me."

"Dude, no way."

"Well, I can't kill her. I'm too obvious a suspect!" Cartman cries, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a rolled-up sheet of paper, "Here. I even mapped out a plan to help you do it."

Kyle takes the piece of paper, unrolls it, and stares down at the contents, weirdly impressed by Cartman's thoroughness as he scans the sheet over. "How did you put this together so quick?" Kyle asks, gazing up in wonder.

Cartman shrugs, "I work fast on the toilet."

"Ew!" Kyle cries. He immediately flings the plan onto the ground, his face full of disgust.

"Douchebag," Cartman states, turning to the other person in the room, "you're a Level 12 thief. Help me out here."

Kyle sighs, "That was Craig."

Cartman cocks his forehead, "'You sure?"

"Yeah, Craig was the thief," Kyle elaborates as Douchebag stands awkwardly beside him, "His name was Feldspar."

Cartman grumbles and shakes his head, before turning his attention back to the task at hand, "Come on, Douchebag," he pleads, clasping his hands in the classic prayer position, "you seem to really hate Heidi. I'll give you ten bucks if you kill her for me!"

"Cartman!" Kyle outbursts.

"You're right, that's obviously too much," he adds with a wave of his hand, "How about five?" Kyle rolls his eyes.

"We're out of here," Kyle declares, grabbing his ex's hand, unlocking the knob, and pulling her out the door behind him.

"That's fine, that's fine!" Cartman huffs, the fatass fuming as he stomps over to the open doorway. He leans his head out of it and glares at the departing figures, "Fuck you, Kahl, and fuck you, Dingus or Dipwad or whatever the hell your name is!" he shouts, Cartman's face falling when Heidi walks up to him, handcuffs in hand, "Oh, hey, babe. How's it going?" he sweatdrops.

Heidi narrows her eyes at him, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. She's only been here for five seconds and she's already had enough of Cartman's shenanigans, "Eric, what are you doing? You were supposed to wait for me by the bathroom, so we could re-cuff," she reminds him, holding the handcuffs up to his face. Cartman groans as she straps them on, "And please, don't ever call me babe again. That stage of our lives is dead in the ground."

"I know, I was just, um, talking to somebody," Cartman explains, loosely gesturing his thumb over his shoulder.

"Kyle?"

"NO!" Cartman outbursts, his face reddening at the suggestion, "Uh, Kelly…Kelly Frankfurter-" Cartman throws his head back and sighs, "Okay, yeah, I can't do this right now. I'm too exhausted from being bound to you."

Heidi tilts her forehead, a smirk spreading across her face, "So, you were hanging out with Kyle," Heidi speaks, "I'm not surprised. Honestly, I think you like him more than I did."

"Wha-? What the hell are you talking about, Heidi?!" Cartman practically shrieks, his voice echoing off the walls, "I don't like that filthy Jew!"

"Then why are you always spending time with him and seeking him out?" she wonders.

"I'm not! Kyle's the one who never leaves me alone! He's obsessed with me," Cartman retorts, like it's obvious, "I've told him time and time again that I'm not interested, but he just keeps coming back for more!"

Heidi peers into Cartman's eyes a moment before letting out a hearty chuckle. "I don't think even you're delusional enough to believe those words. And if you are, that's really sad," she states.

Cartman snarls, clenching his fists at his sides as he steams up like a teapot, "Fuck you, Heidi! You don't even know me. You don't know what my people have been through!" he cries, crossing his arms and turning away from her in a huff. Heidi rolls her eyes.

…

Meanwhile, in the boys room, Clyde and Lisa are sitting with one another, trying their best to avoid the rest of the house drama in the process. Lisa sighs as the conversation begins to lull, a strange tenseness now forming in the air. "Clyde," she sighs, staring down at her fingernails, "I gotta be honest with you. I called Token last week and told him that I wanted to come here," she reveals.

"What?"

"I just-I just really wanted to see you," Lisa confesses, having a hard time pushing the words out, "We used to be such good friends, and I still, kind of, have a crush on you," she confesses, her face burning up.

"Oh," Clyde replies, his face lighting up like one of Butter's obnoxious Christmas sweaters, "God, I definitely wasn't expecting that," he coos. The pair sit in awkward silence as Lisa eagerly awaits his response from the bed across from him, "Look Lisa," Clyde sighs, "I really think you're a great person, and you're definitely someone very special to me, but-"

"I know," Lisa says, knowing how hard this must be for him, "Come on, Clyde, I'm not blind. I know you're still in love with your ex – and that's cool. I just needed to get this off my chest, so I know for sure that it's a lost cause. But I really hope that we can stay friends," Lisa adds with a meek and hopeful smile.

Clyde looks up, sporting his own grin, and nods, "Yeah, of course we can, Lisa," he promises, before standing up and pulling her into a warm hug.

…

Five minutes later, Kyle is sitting on his new HOH bed, still on cloud nine after his and Douchebag's impressive win. He sighs as he replays it in his mind, their win the perfect amount of skill and strategy for his liking. Kyle smiles as Douchebag approaches the open doorway. He quickly waves her in, his ex taking the hint and closing the door behind her.

"We did great at the competition, Dee. We really work together well, don't you think?" Kyle wonders, a sort of bittersweet feeling washing over him.

Douchebag sits on the bed and nods.

"Thanks for carrying me, by the way. I guess you were kinda used to it, though," Kyle rambles as he nervously traces patterns onto the comforter, "After all, you did that a lot in our relationship," he states, hoping to downplay the sudden awkwardness with a lighthearted joke. The pair sit in silence, the room clouding up with tension as thick as Cartman's stomach. Kyle turns away, immediately tearing up when he locks eyes with Douchebag. He quickly moves his hand up, trying to wipe the tears away from his face before she notices. Kyle turns back when he feels Douchebag scoot forward on the mattress. He sniffs, noticing her staring at him with concerned eyes. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, his voice shakier than usual, "I don't mean to do this. I know how hard this must be for you. It's just-today was just so surprisingly perfect between you and me, and-I don't know-I guess this whole thing just made me realize how much I really missed you."

Douchebag slowly nods, giving a small smile as she gazes at him. She cautiously leans forward, wrapping Kyle in a hug. Kyle freezes at first before giving in, melting like putty in her arms. Douchebag turns to the left and whispers in his ear, "I missed you too, Kyle," she states.

Kyle pulls back slightly, shocked that she just spoke, and that of all the things she could've said, she chose to agree with him. "Really?" he squeaks; Douchebag nods. "Oh, thank God!" Kyle praises, pulling her in once more.

The pair hug for what feels like forever before they separate. Kyle wiping the newfound, happy tears from his eyes. "So, um, how much did Token pay you to come here?" he wonders.

Douchebag holds up her hand in a zero shape. Kyle beams, the redhead soaring on cloud nine.

…

Two hours later, Cartman storms through the hallway, pulling Heidi forward by the wrist in the process. "Cartman, slow down!" Heidi pleads, her wrist feeling like it's burning underneath the cuff, "I can't feel my wrist!"

Cartman huffs, "Well, it's not my fault you can't handle my strength!"

"Strength? What strength?" Heidi states through a nose laugh as she bounces a little to keep up with him, "You mean the strength from your stomach?" she quips.

"Aye! I'm not fat, I'm buff!" Cartman retorts, red as a tomato when he reaches their destination, "It's a shame you were so caught up in yourself to ever notice!"

Cartman pounds on the HOH room door, having dragged a grumbly Heidi the entirety of the way there the second the clock struck midnight. "COME ON, KAHL, OPEN UP! THIS IS A LIFE OR DEATH SITUATION 'ERE!" Cartman shouts, stepping back slightly when he hears shuffling on the other side.

Kyle yawns as he swings the door open, disheveled and sleep-deprived. "Cartman, what the hell is wrong with y-oh," Kyle realizes, once Cartman holds up his handcuffed wrist and annoyingly taps on the piece of metal. Kyle disappears inside for a moment before returning with the key. He hands it to the fatass, who quickly snatches it and frees himself from the insanity of his ex-girlfriend.

"Thank you," Cartman rudely snaps as he thrusts the key into the HOH's hands.

Kyle nods, giving another tired yawn, the redheaded too tired to fight back now, "No problem."

Cartman watches as Kyle moves slightly, Douchebag now in plain sight, fast asleep on his bed. Kyle softly shuts the door behind him as Cartman turns to the camera, shooting a dumbfoundedly jealous look into the lens. Cartman shakes his head and grunts, "Why that sneaky son of a bitch!" he cries.

Chapter Text

Early the next morning, Kyle scrunches his face as the sunlight beams through the window of the HOH room, the redhead stirring lightly on the mattress at the disturbance. Kyle yawns and sits up, stretching his arms out. He blinks twice as his vision slowly clears around him, his stomach dropping when he notices the left side of his bed is empty, his ex-girlfriend's presence replaced by an envelope perched delicately on the pillow next to him. Kyle tilts his forehead before grabbing the envelope and cradling it in his palm. He sits in silence as he stares straight ahead at the closed HOH room door, feeling like he is almost mourning the loss of a loved one as his heart beats rapidly in his throat.

…

Meanwhile, across the house, Bebe yawns as she slowly opens her eyes, her bed a lot stuffier than she originally remembers. She turns to the side, nearly knocking into a naked Clyde in the process. Horrified, Bebe looks down, quickly covering up her own nudity, this whole circumstance seeming like a bad dream. She fumbles backwards, nearly hitting her head against the wall, the abruptness of her movements jostling her bed buddy awake. Bebe screams as Clyde locks eyes with her, kicking the brunette back with her foot. Her shrieks echo throughout the girls room, causing Tweek and Craig to jerk awake, the latter so taken off-guard that he falls out of their bed with a thud, dressed in his space pajama pants. Craig groggily glares at the ex-couple.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

Oh, you think that's bad? I had to listen to the two of them going at it last night. I'll never think of the phrase "juicy lime butt time" the same way again. (shivers)

…

"Clyde!" Bebe cries, the pitch of her tone so high it could cause an avalanche, "What the hell are you doing in my bed?!"

"What are you talking about, Bebekins. You invited me!" Clyde beams, his ex cringing at the pet name.

Bebe stiffens, clutching the bed sheets in her palms as memories of last night flood into her mind. She groans, "Clyde, you have to listen to me, last night was a mistake," she states, firmly staring into his eyes.

"Oh, there's no mistaking it," Clyde replies, smirking devilishly, "You were all over me."

Bebe winces as she hides her head in her hands, wondering when her judgment flew out the window. She sighs and rubs her aching forehead. "It was one time and now it's over," Bebe mutters, taking one of the sheets and wrapping it around her body, "You and I are not anything, okay? Do you understand?"

Across the room, Craig cringes as he watches the pair's confrontation. He looks down at his boyfriend, who is sitting up in bed, the covers sprawled over him as he lazily fixes his hair. "Come on, babe, let's get out of here," Craig says, tapping Tweek gently on the kneecap. Craig perks his eyebrow as Tweek waves Craig closer to him with his hand. The noirette leans over the mattress.

"I can't," Tweek whispers awkwardly. Craig cocks his forehead as if to ask why, "I can't find my pants," Tweek admits, his cheeks flushing at the confession.

"Come on, Bebe!" Clyde fires, the pair still feuding across the way, "There's no such thing as meaningless sex, right Craig?"

Craig groans, facepalming at the situation, "Please don't drag me into this. If my boyfriend wasn't pants-less, we would've been gone by now," he states, pointing his thumb back at the door.

"Craig!" Tweek whines.

"See, Bebe? Even Craig agrees with me!" Clyde shouts, "If he didn't, he would've told me to go lick a toilet!"

Craig sighs as he defeatedly rolls his eyes, "Alright, we're out of here. Please sort this out like mature individuals, so this house doesn't crash and burn," Craig warns the ex-couple before turning back to the mattress. He leans forward, bunching up the blankets on their bed and pushing them underneath his boyfriend, wrapping them securely around Tweek before picking him up bridal style. Tweek squeaks as he is lifted off the bed and carried out the door.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

I'm just going to say this right now: No one should be having sex in the Big Brother house. And by 'no one' I mean, no one but me and Tweek. – Yes, I am a hypocrite. (smiles)

…

Five minutes later, Cartman is moseying around the kitchen area, waiting for his toaster strudel to pop up when Douchebag enters into the kitchen. She walks over to the coffeemaker and turns it on. "Ah, Douchebag. Just the person I wanted to see," Cartman chimes, watching as Douchebag pours some water into the device, the girl raising an eyebrow as the fatass stops beside her, "I feel like we haven't really had a chance to catch up, so…how's your life been post-Kahl? You know, now that you two are totally, 100% over?" he affirms with a menacing tone, forcing a smile. Douchebag turns to the fatass and shrugs. Cartman frowns, knowing he's going to have to take things up a notch if he wants to get anywhere with this no-talker. "You know, he talks about you all the time. It's quite creepy." Douchebag tilts her head, looking slightly flattered by this information, "-Wait, no. He, uh, actually doesn't talk about you at all," Cartman quickly retracts, "He doesn't even remember your name-"

"Hey, Dee," Kyle chimes, approaching his ex from behind with a wave, carrying the letter in his opposing hand, "What's up?" Douchebag turns and waves back as Cartman groans at the redhead's arrival.

"Goddammit, Kiel," Cartman mutters, before turning back to the ex, "But if you're still interested in my offer of killing Heidi, do let me know. I might bump the reward up to six dollars."

Douchebag squints, rubbing her chin ponderously, looking like she is seriously considering this.

Next to her, Kyle sighs. "Dee, no," he replies, "I keep telling you not to get involved with him. I don't want you to end up in prison, especially not because of Heidi. She's not worth it."

"Now, now, Kahl. Let the girl do what she wants," Cartman coos, a smug expression spread across his face, "Speaking of which, why are you still here? All the other exes left like three hours ago."

Douchebag turns to Kyle, shooting him an expression that would appear blank to most people, but Kyle can read like a book. "Token wouldn't let her. I guess Heidi threatened to sue if he didn't space out their exits."

"You got all that by just looking at her face?" Cartman questions; Kyle nods. "God, yew guys are weirdos."

…

Wendy Testaburger
Oblivious Rights Activist

I've been having a tough time this week. Honestly, I don't know why. Maybe I'm still mourning the loss of my relationship with Stan. – Yeah, that must be it.

…

Wendy is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed as she watches Douchebag prepare to leave the Big Brother house. Wendy sighs and pushes herself off the wall with her foot. She takes a few steps forward, her shadow partially washing over the house's last remaining ex.

"So, you're leaving, huh?" Wendy speaks up, clearing her throat a bit as Douchebag turns to face her. Douchebag nods. "Well, um, it was nice to see you," Wendy adds, wondering why a hurricane of emotions is barreling through her mind as she stares out at her. Suddenly, Wendy gulps, narrowing her eyes as an unexpected emotion rears its ugly head. Wendy reaches forward and grips Douchebag's bicep, the latter wincing as she squeezes down on the flesh, a dark tone engulfing her voice, "Look, I don't know what your prerogative was in coming here, but I swear to all things that sparkle and glow that you better not hurt that boy again."

"Wendy?" said boy's voice squeaks, causing the raven-haired girl to turn around.

Wendy swallows, quickly letting go of Douchebag's bicep as she locks eyes with Kyle. Wendy's face flushes, feeling like she just got caught in a lie. She looks between Kyle and Douchebag, the latter rubbing her bicep, which is now covered in light scratches. Wendy sweatdrops, "I, uh, have to go," she mutters, quickly exiting the scene before anyone can give it a second thought.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Oblivious Rights Activist

Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with me? I'm such an idiot! I just put my and Bebe's entire game in jeopardy because of my stupid emotions. Well, if Kyle's looking for a legitimate reason to put me up and cut me out of his life, he has one now.

…

"Hey," Kyle states, cautiously stepping towards his ex as she hugs her body, "Are you alright?" Douchebag turns to Kyle and nods. "What the hell happened?" he wonders.

Douchebag thinks for a moment before waving her hand down and shrugging it off.

"Oh, well…alright," Kyle replies, his voice wavering slightly, "So, I guess you're going soon, huh?" Douchebag nods, "Oh, well, it was really nice you came. It's great spending time with you," Kyle states sincerely, already feeling the tears welling up in his eyes. Sensing his discomfort, Douchebag leans forward and gently places her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Dee," Kyle squeaks, his gaze trailing to the carpet, "It's just-usually when you think back to a relationship, it's not as great as you remember it. But with us, it was. I remember everything about us," Kyle confesses, pouring his heart out, "We were great together. We're still great together. I think yesterday proved that."

Kyle sniffs as he lifts his head up, narrowing his eyes at Cartman, who has just walked into the room with a tub of popcorn, eagerly ready to watch the show. Kyle glares at the fatass.

Cartman shifts his eyes, "What?"

"Do you mind?" Kyle huffs, his voice laced with irritation.

"Well, obviously, I don't," he states with a shrug, shoving another handful of the buttery goodness into his mouth.

"Get the fuck out of here before Douchebag farts on you again!"

"Alright, alright, geez! No need to pin the farting vigilante on me," Cartman grumbles, taking off down the hallway with a wave of his hand and a roll of his eyes.

Kyle sighs as he turns back to his ex-girlfriend, feeling the frustrations of what just occurred between him and Cartman just roll down his back. "Anyway, why did you dump me, Dee?" Kyle wonders, brave enough to ask the question that's been burning in his mind every day for the last month, "Things really suck without you."

Douchebag stares at the ground and sighs, "I like you, Kyle, I do," she answers, her eyes shining as she stares up at him, "You were just going too fast; I couldn't handle it. And when I can't handle things, I do exactly what you do – run," she confesses, her words heavy with the truth, "And I didn't want to stay in South Park, and you did. We just wanted different things. It just wasn't going to work."

"But…I still love you," Kyle squeaks, his heart burning with the confession.

"I know," Douchebag nods, releasing a heavy sigh as she stares back down at the carpet, "That's what made it so hard. And I love you too, Kyle, but I don't want you to give up everything just for me. That's not healthy. You want to end up like Heidi and Cartman?"

"God, no!" Kyle cries, giving a small laugh at the question.

"Exactly," Douchebag states with a chuckle, "I just think you need to focus on yourself for a while and what you want. Bebe's right, this opportunity is once in a lifetime, so don't worry about us. Just have fun with it. Have an adventure, Kyle. You deserve it," Douchebag smiles.

"Okay," Kyle replies, having a hard time choking out a response through the newest onslaught of tears rolling down his cheeks, "But does this mean we're over forever?"

Douchebag leans forward and gently pats Kyle once on the shoulder, her gaze intense and heartfelt, "You got that letter I wrote you?" Kyle sniffs and nods, pulling the letter out of his jacket pocket, "Good. Keep it with you. It tells you exactly how I feel about you. But please, don't open it until you truly feel like you're ready for it."

Kyle nods and sniffles once more, wiping his snotty nose on his hand, "Alright. I promise."

"Great," Douchebag replies, the air thick with tension. Douchebag gingerly moves forward and picks up her coat, holding it in her arms as she backs up towards the front door, "Well, I gotta go get going-"

"Wait!" Kyle cries, his ex freezing hesitantly at the door, partially scared at what Kyle is about to say, "Did-did you really see every episode?" he asks with a smile.

Douchebag nods, a grin spreading across her face, "Yep," she answers, giving an audible sigh of relief, "Haven't missed one yet. They always play it at the restaurant. You should be really proud of yourself."

"Thank you," Kyle beams.

"You're welcome," Douchebag states, reaching forward and pulling her ex into a hug. The pair part, South Park's signature farter standing in the doorway as she reaches behind her to twist open the doorknob. She turns to her ex, blushing lightly as she gazes into his eyes, "You're so capable, Kyle," she states genuinely, "I hope you see that," she adds, before stepping through the exit, giving one final, silent wave on her way out the door.

Kyle sighs, placing his hands in his jacket pockets, his right hand glossing over the familiar silver necklace. Kyle's eyes widen as he races over to the closing door. "Dee, wait! Your necklace!" he cries, pulling out the piece of the jewelry and holding it out to her.

Douchebag turns on the porch, smiling at the gesture, "Keep it!" she beams, the door closing the final inch, separating the former couple.

And then she was gone, leaving Kyle alone in the hallway with his thoughts. He sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve as he gazes at where she once stood, gripping her letter in his palm.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Content Know-it-all

I feel good, I feel…almost complete. (gazes up at the camera) – I'm glad it happened.

…

Clyde strolls down the hallway, whistling a cheerful tune as he makes his way to the storage closet. Clyde stops in his tracks, the storage-room door barely missing his face as it swings open. Tweek steps out, his eyes widening slightly when he makes eye contact with his friend, the blonde sporting a pair of loose-fitting space pajama pants. "Oh, uh, hey, Clyde," Tweek greets.

"Hey, Tweek. Is Craig in there?"

"Yep," he nods.

"Awesome," Clyde states, moseying past Tweek and bursting into the room, "Craig! Craiiiggg!" Clyde practically sings, the noirette raising an eyebrow at him from his seat on the floor, "I have something really important to ask you."

Craig groans, "Please tell me it's not about last night."

"No, no," Clyde answers, waving the concern off with his hand, "Well…maybe. Actually, yes," Craig rolls his eyes. Clyde sweetly clasps his hands in front of his chest, "I just wanted to ask you if you'd like to be my best man, cause me and Bebe are 100% getting back together."

Craig sighs, the response causing Clyde to tilt his forehead in confusion, "Look, do you want me to uncharacteristically sugarcoat what I'm about to say, or do you want me to give you the cold, hard truth?"

"Well, I guess I want the truth," Clyde mutters, plopping down next to him.

"Fine," Craig states, releasing a heavy exhale before looking into the brunette's eyes, "your relationship with Bebe is going nowhere, and it'll always be that way until you learn to be happy with yourself."

"Wow," Clyde says with a nod as he stares blankly at the floor, "That's a lot of wisdom coming from someone who's sitting here in their underwear," Clyde sarcastically spews.

"Clyde, I'm serious," Craig continues, his expression stern but caring, "You always do this. You always jump from relationship to relationship thinking that it's going to make you happy. Your current relationship fizzles and you're miserable until you jump into another one, where you're happy for five seconds until you realize that you still feel empty on the inside."

"Wow, Craig. Thanks for the truth," Clyde rolls his eyes, "And now it's time for me to give you the truth. You, sir, are whipped."

"Excuse me?"

"You're spineless and whipped when it comes to Tweek, Craig," Clyde elaborates, his voice so loud it's ricocheting off the walls, "I'm surprised you can even have this conversation with me without Tweek whispering in your ear telling you what to say."

Craig narrows his eyes at him. "Hey, I'm happy in my relationship, okay? Don't try to drag me down with you. I like that Tweek's more assertive, it means I don't have to overthink anything. Dealing with other people's emotions is confusing enough as it is," he explains with a huff, "And for your information, Tweek didn't make me give him my pajama pants – I offered them to him cause he was uncomfortable walking around this place in his underwear while you were busy ruining things with Bebe. Now, if you're done trying to deflect the conversation onto me, I have some pants to get," Craig declares, before hoisting himself off the ground and heading to the doorway.

…

Five minutes later, Wendy and Cartman are sitting side by side at the kitchen island, the pair stewing over their disaster of a morning as they pick at the breakfast on their plates. Cartman sighs as he rests his elbow on the counter, propping his head up with his hand, completely unaware of the fact that he and the girl next to him are upset for the same exact reason. Wendy is glaring frustratedly at the tiled wall in front of them. She gives a heavy sigh.

"Alright, Wendy, I'll bite," Cartman says finally as he glances over at his visibly-distressed housemate, "What's got your panties in a bunch?"

Wendy rolls her eyes. "First, that comment is highly misogynistic and offensive," she scolds him, "Second, why would I bother telling you?"

"Because we both hate each other, which means if we each share our problem, we'll have equal blackmail," Cartman explains as if this is the opening lecture in Villainy 101, "So, what is it? Finally realized you have the hots for Bebe?" he guesses.

Wendy scrunches her forehead, "Why are you so convinced that we're together? We were never together. We're not lesbians."

"Alright, alright, geez. No need to shoot the super hunk," Cartman states, throwing his hands up as he leans back in his chair, "But seriously, Wendy, what is it? Now you've got me interested."

"Nuh-uh. No way. I know what a guy like you does with information like this," Wendy replies, nervously picking at her nails as she stares down at the linoleum. "God, I just don't get what he sees in her," Wendy mutters under her breath, Cartman perking up slightly at the comment.

"What did you just say?"

Wendy blinks twice, "Nothing," she answers, doing her best to look clueless.

"No, you didn't say nothing. That comment was about the Jew, wasn't it?" Cartman elaborates, digging deeper for the gossip, "Oh my God, this is too good. You totally want their relationship to crumble! Maybe even as bad as I do-" Cartman stops in his tracks, Wendy snapping her neck around and widening her eyes at this news, "-I mean, uh, as bad as…everyone else does," Cartman lamely covers. He awkwardly clears his throat into his knuckle. "I, uh, have to go now," he announces, Wendy watching curiously as Cartman hops down from his chair and waddles into the hallway.

"I know I shouldn't really be surprised, but…what the hell was that?" Wendy asks the camera, shooting a peculiar look into its lens.

…

Twenty minutes later, Bebe is sprawled out on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, her mind aching as she mulls over the terrible decisions she made last night while Wendy sits on the bed next to her. "Why did you sleep with Clyde?" Wendy wonders, asking the question that has been buzzing through Bebe's brain all morning, "You know how much he reads into things when it comes to you two. He's probably planning you guys' wedding as we speak!"

"I don't know, okay?" Bebe cries, sitting up on her bed so abruptly that her head spins, "I made it very clear before that I closed that chapter of my life with him, but apparently, last night, I just swung it back open!"

"But why? You were doing so well. You had such strong boundaries."

"I know!" Bebe chimes, "But I was freshly-dumped and apparently horny yesterday, and he tried so hard to win that competition for me that I guess I just…lunged," she states, whispering the last part in embarrassment. "Besides, this isn't the only time one of us has made a questionable decision. I mean, at least I didn't threaten anyone…" Bebe mutters, turning towards the empty wall.

"Look, I already told you, I don't know what came over me," Wendy jumps in, already feeling a bit defensive at the mere mention of her mess-up with Douchebag, "But I'm sorry if I potentially ruined our game this morning."

"So you really think Kyle's going to put you up, huh?"

Wendy sighs as she stares down at her comforter, "I don't know, Bebe, but you know what? I wouldn't blame him if he did," she confesses, fiddling with the fabric. She throws her head back and sighs as she gazes up at the ceiling, "God, I'm such an idiot. We were in the clear, at least until the final five, and I ruined it."

"I wouldn't be so sure that it's over, Wendy," Bebe states with a smile, her hand perched consolingly on her best friend's knee, "It's a long game."

…

Meanwhile, on the other side of the house, Cartman and Kyle are sitting in the HOH room, going through their plans for the upcoming nomination ceremony. "Right now, Kiel, we need to split any pairs that could potentially be more powerful than us. There are two strong pairs in the house that we know of so far: Tweek and Craig, and Wendy and Bebe," Cartman states, the redhead listening intently to his every word, "To play this right for our benefit, we need to target the head of each of these pairs. In my opinion, Craig is the main threat in the Tweek and Craig duo. He's stronger and better at the competitions than Tweek and has too sturdy of a backbone to be pushed around by anyone but his boytoy," Cartman explains, pausing slightly before moving onto the second part of his analysis, "It's hard to target the head of the Wendy and Bebe duo because they're both equally strong. They're both intelligent and good at challenges. It's difficult to see who is calling the shots, so as long as we send one of them home, we should be good."

"So, you don't think there are any other alliances within the group of five?" Kyle asks, cocking his forehead as he processes all of this new information.

Cartman shakes his head. "Nope. No way. None of those guys are intelligent enough to come up with a move like that, Kahl. If we split up the pairs then we'll be golden. Since this week is so essential to the rest of our game moving forward, let's go through each of our housemates, discuss everyone's threat level, and rank them out of ten, so we can determine who we should put up this week."

"Wow. Good idea," Kyle states, somewhat astonished by Cartman's thorough strategy, "Okay, how about Bebe?"

"Bebe is what I call a triple threat. She's good strategically, physically, and socially, but she's not as upfront about it as some of the other housemates. Personally, I think if she makes it to the end, she wins, so I'd rank her a nine out of ten," Cartman explains, Kyle raising an eyebrow at this news.

"I agree with that. Bebe is pretty scary," Kyle adds, "What about Wendy?"

"Wendy is also a tough competitor, but we all knew that going in. The thing that concerns me about Wendy is that she's a natural-born leader who people gravitate to," Cartman says, feeling somewhat icky that he's admitting this about his rival, "She does have a weakness, though. Sometimes she gets too bossy and demanding, which isn't everyone's cup of tea, but with the sob story, I think she has a good chance of winning the money if she makes it to the end. I'd rank her an eight out of ten. She's tough."

"Then there's Clyde," Cartman cuts in before Kyle even has the chance to respond, "Clyde is a bit of a different story. He seemingly has no strategic element to his gameplay, but he is great at the competitions and everyone loves him. In my opinion, a purely social player has no chance at winning this game, but he doesn't really fall under that category," Cartman explains, rubbing his chin ponderously, "The thing that makes Clyde less scary than Bebe and Wendy is that he doesn't think before he does things, so he has the potential to piss a lot of people off along the way. Overall, I'd rank him a seven out of ten."

Kyle nods, seemingly in agreement of this analysis.

"Now, let's get to the bottom-tier of this house. People that probably have little to no chance of winning this game based on how things currently stand," Cartman continues, staring out at his alliance member, "Look, it's clear Craig's not playing the game, and he probably never will because he clearly doesn't give a shit about anything that's going on. He has no strategy, does what he wants all day, and doesn't try at the competitions. The only thing that's scary about Craig is the threat of him someday waking up and realizing he wants to play because that guy can be pretty damn influential when he wants to be. Either way, I'd still rank Craig a four out of ten with the potential to score higher if he actually does anything."

"Fair enough," Kyle concurs.

"Lastly, there's Tweek," Cartman speaks, coming up on his conclusion, "Every season there's one person who does so godawful that America labels them as a goat. This season, it's the spaz. There's no question that Tweek is a one out of ten because he's mentally weak, dependent on Craig for survival, terrible at the challenges, and seemingly has no strategy at all. He's the kind of person that would make it to the end and get no votes. So, as far as I'm concerned, we need to drag him along as long as possible," Cartman states, giving a firm nod, "With that being said, Kahl, I think our best move this week is to nominate the two girls and have them duke it out. Get one of them out before they even think of targeting us. What do you think of that?"

Kyle gulps, his throat drying up at the thought of losing Wendy, "Yeah," he squeaks as he stares off into the distance, trying to ignore the blaring no that is burning in his mind, "I think that's good."

…

Tweek Tweak
Cartman Hater/Supposed Farm Animal

Kyle is this week's HOH, which is a bit concerning because I don't know where his allegiance lies. Surprisingly though, I'm not that worried about the nominations today. I have a good relationship with everyone in the house right now – except for Cartman, but I know that's a lost cause – so I have a great shot at making it to next week, even if I was put on the block.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

Once a week, before nominations, Tweek and I secretly meet up to compare notes and discuss strategy that we heard from the other houseguests over the last six days. It's pretty much the most essential part of both of our games. We meet in private so no suspects that we're working with each other because if people got wind of it, they'd probably put both of us on the block together. I know Big Brother is ultimately an individual game, but it's almost impossible to win it without having someone in your corner, and Tweek's always been a trustworthy person, so I have no reason to believe he would screw me. That, and he's gay. (gives a playful wink)

…

"Alright, so, I think we're screwed this week," Wendy states the moment Tweek closes the storage room door and turns to her.

He tilts his forehead, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I massively messed up and I'm almost certain that Kyle is putting myself and Bebe on the block on Friday," she clarifies.

"Why?" Tweek wonders, feeling like he is missing a pivotal piece of information here, "Did you spit in his hat or something?"

"Worse. I threatened Douchebag this morning. He caught me squeezing her arm, I fled the scene before I could explain, and I'm almost positive that she told him the whole story."

Tweek sighs and shakes his head at the ground, "Oh, Wendy…"

"I'm sorry, Tweek. When I saw her, I just – I don't know – I couldn't help myself," Wendy dives in, frantically pacing the floor, "I mean, what does he even see in her? It's obvious that their relationship's over in her mind!"

"Why does their relationship matter so much to you? What? Do you like Kyle or something?" Tweek wonders.

Wendy stops in her tracks, surprised to hear this accusation from Tweek of all people, "Really?" she coos, turning to her friend, her hands perched sassily on her hips, "You got that in five seconds but you couldn't see when Clyde clearly had a crush on you?"

"Hey, don't take this out on me. You're way easier to read than Clyde on this subject," Tweek explains, defensively.

Wendy sighs, her face softening when she sees the angered glint in the blonde's eyes, "I'm sorry, Tweek. I just haven't been acting like myself lately. This whole Kyle thing has my brain all messed up," she admits, rubbing her aching temple, "I'll try not to let this get to me, and I promise I'll try my best to keep this from ruining our games," she states, holding her palm up in a scout's honor.

…

Tweek Tweak
Craig Lover

Wendy's trying her best, and I can see that. Usually, if you're worried about nominations, you talk to the HOH and try to subtly persuade them to do what's in your best interest. Both of the girls going up this week would be terrible for my game, but there's not too much I can do about it without potentially putting myself or Craig in danger, so I may just have to keep my mouth shut on this one. Cause Kyle's the kind of player that if he suspects that I have even an ounce of strategy, he'll sell me down the river in a heartbeat.

…

Early that afternoon, Kyle is standing at the head of the dining table, his heart beating frantically in his chest as he stares out at his six housemates. Kyle clasps his hands together and takes a deep breath, hoping to calm his nerves, his HOH room key wrapped around his neck alongside Douchebag's silver necklace. "Okay, everyone," Kyle speaks to the crowd, who is all a bundle of nerves like he is, "As you all know, I'm the HOH this week, and as the Head of Household, I must nominate two houseguests for eviction," Kyle explains, pausing to swallow, "As always, this decision was a difficult one, but I have good reasons for putting these two people on the block. So, without further ado, this week I nominate Bebe and…"

Wendy tenses her shoulders, cringing in her seat as she prepares for her game to go up in flames.

"…Clyde," Kyle completes, his selection causing Cartman to raise an eyebrow. "Bebe, Clyde," he addresses the two nominees, "You two are both very strong competitively – I mean, I would know, all three of us were up on those platforms for five hours – and you two haven't made any enemies on the jury, which is why I see you guys as top competitors for the money. And that's why I nominated the two of you today," Kyle explains, the pair nodding in understanding at the table, "Of course, there's no hard feelings on my end. I don't have anything against either one of you. This is just a game and we're all just living in it," Kyle completes, cracking a small smile at his joke. "Seeing as there are no questions, this meeting is adjourned," he states, clapping his hands together.

A bunch of the housemates stand up from their seats and disperse from the table. Cartman turns to Kyle, the fatass still perched in his seat as he mouths, 'What gives?'

Kyle shrugs as Wendy passes by him, looking the most confused she has all game.

…

"What the fuck, Kahl?!" Cartman cries, barreling into the HOH room mere seconds after the nomination ceremony is over, startling the redhead, who is seated on the mattress, "What the hell was that?! I thought we agreed that the nominations would be Bebe and Wendy this week!"

"We did, but-but I just panicked, okay?" Kyle stutters, fumbling to come up with a lie to salvage this situation, "Look, it's not a big deal. We'll talk around, make some deals, and we'll make sure that Bebe's the one who goes."

Cartman snarls, squeezing an angry puff of air out of his nose, "For your sake, I hope you're right, Kiel," he huffs.

…

"Okay, is it just me, or did those nominations make no sense?" Bebe questions, after she and Wendy have settled back into the girls room, a few minutes after the nomination ceremony concluded.

Wendy cocks her forehead, "What do you mean?" she wonders.

"Well, you and Cartman both nominated Kyle when you guys were HOH, and he didn't even put one of you up as payback. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm super happy that you and I aren't on the block together, but it just doesn't make any sense to me," Bebe explains, deeply perturbed by the redhead's actions, "Do you think they're working together?"

"Cartman and Kyle?" Wendy squeaks; Bebe nods, "No way. Hell hasn't frozen over yet. Plus, didn't Cartman vote to evict Kyle last week?"

"Yeah," Bebe confirms, "And yet, Kyle still didn't put him on the block. I don't know…something smells fishy here, Wendy," Bebe says, scrunching her nose.

…

Meanwhile, in the storage room, Craig and Clyde are having a very similar conversation about Kyle's puzzling nominations while Tweek sorts through the food for the week behind them. He grabs a few canned goods and exits out of the room. "Look," Craig states to the brunette as soon as Tweek shuts the door, "I know we don't usually talk game a whole bunch, but I find it kinda weird that we've had both a Wendy and a Kyle HOH, and Cartman hasn't been put up once. Do you think those three have an alliance?" he wonders.

"Who knows?" Clyde shrugs, "All I know is that I'm going home tomorrow."

Craig cocks his forehead, puzzled by the nonchalant nature of Clyde's reply, "What makes you say that?"

"Just a feeling," Clyde replies, anxiously tracing patterns on the floor, "Tweek's voting for me. He's been acting weird around me all day, even before the nominations."

"I wouldn't know anything about that," Craig states.

"Really?" Clyde squeaks, snapping his head up at this declaration, "You guys don't talk about the game?"

Craig shakes his head. "Nope. He doesn't ask me how I'm voting and I don't ask him – that way it doesn't cause a rift between us. We've agreed to keep the game and our relationship separate as long as possible."

"Dude, seriously?" Clyde asks, unable to believe what he is hearing.

Craig nods. "Yeah, most of the time, we don't even vote together. Tweek does what he wants for his game; I can't convince him otherwise," he explains, "He plays his game and I play mine, which in my case isn't much cause I really don't care about this," Craig states, a strange silence washing over them, "So, let's say that you're right and this is your final night in this house. What's one thing you always wanted to do on your last day here? And don't say Tweek," Craig quickly adds with a smile.

Clyde leans forward, putting his finger up to his chin in a ponder, "Hmm…"

Five minutes later, Craig and Clyde are decked out in their best spaceman attire, complete with oven mitts stolen from the kitchen and colanders on their heads. They sneakily peer around the corner into the boys room, Craig gripping onto a fake communicator – which is none other than an empty box of mints he stole from the coffee table. The pair step into the boys room, carefully examining the two foreign creatures that are sitting on Cartman's bed. Kyle jumps a little when he sees the intruders. "We have just entered Titania," Spaceman Craig speaks into the fake communicator, "There appears to be no sign of intelligent life on this planet."

"AYE!" Cartman cries out from his bed as the pair of spaceman quickly swerve on their heels and scurry off into the living room, making tsking noises as they bounce out of the room. Kyle cocks his forehead and lingers behind them.

"Careful, Spaceman Craig. I heard the aliens on this planet are aggressive!" Spaceman Clyde warns, talking into a coaster.

"Don't worry, Spaceman Clyde. There hasn't been an aggressive alien sighting in years. I'm sure we'll be safe!"

"Spaceman Craig, look out!" Clyde cries, his eyes widening like saucers as he points to a figure looming behind his fellow space captain. Tweek leaps out from behind the couch, dressed in a hodgepodge of sweaters. He jumps on Craig and starts loosely hitting him with his sweater sleeves.

"Man down!" Craig cries, falling flamboyantly on his back and onto the floor.

"CRAIG!" Clyde cries, in his best overly-dramatic acting voice as a small group of their housemates curiously watch the scene unfold behind him. Cartman takes out his popcorn as Clyde falls to his knees, rolling Tweek off Craig and crying up to the heavens while he cradles Craig's 'dead' body in his arms, Craig closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out for dramatic effect, "Why? WHY?!" Clyde screams hysterically, before bursting into a sob.

"Wow," Kyle states from the background as Clyde continues crying onto his leader's torso, "You guys get super into this."

…

Later that night, Craig is sitting on his makeshift double bed, cuddling with his dozing boyfriend. The blonde is resting his head against Craig's torso, his palm pressed gently against the noirette's chest as he slumbers. Craig holds Tweek tighter, pulling him into a hug as his gaze drifts around the room. It hovers over Clyde, who is sitting all by himself on his bed, clearly down, his eyes glued to the floor. Craig sighs and waves him over, "Come on," he states.

"Really?" Clyde squeaks, perking up at the gesture.

"Yes," Craig nods, "Now hurry over here before I change my mind."

A few hours later, Tweek is wide awake, staring up at the ceiling while Craig lies asleep between him and Clyde. The room is dark and silent, only the sounds of their housemates' breathing filling up the room. Tweek turns on his side, attempting to peer over Craig's sleeping form at his friend. "Clyde? Are you still up?" he whispers.

Rustling is heard from the other side of the bed, "Yeah," Clyde answers.

"Can we talk?"

Two minutes later, Tweek is leading Clyde down the hallway, the blonde taking Clyde to their usual talking spot. Clyde blinks twice as they enter the dimly-lit living room. The pair stop in front of the back window and sit down, facing the backyard. Tweek sighs as he stares straight ahead at the night sky, hoping to find the courage he desperately needs for what he's about to say, "I have to vote for you tomorrow, Clyde," he states, turning to him, "I'm sorry, but I respect you too much not to tell you the truth."

"Tweek, it's fine," Clyde assures him, giving a small nose laugh as he looks at him with a shrug, "It's a game. I'm just happy you told me," he confesses, "I don't want to campaign against Bebe. I'd rather the vote go to a tie, so an impartial person makes the final decision," Clyde states, pausing slightly as he smiles at his friend, "Impartial's the correct word, right? I don't know. I just heard Token use it once, and it sounded cool."

Tweek nods, chuckling lightly at the Clydeism, "You're good."

Clyde laughs as well, feeling the tension in the room just melt away, "Well, regardless of what happens tomorrow, I do hope one of you two win this," Clyde says sincerely, "I know Token said he wouldn't make it easy, especially on his friends, but I still think you and Craig can pull this off."

"Thanks, Clyde."

"You're welcome," Clyde replies, "But, you know, even if one of you guys make it to the end, Tweek, it doesn't mean I'm going to vote for you. You know you have to earn it."

"I know. Same here," Tweek assures him with a smile.

Clyde nods, "Good. Game on," he states, holding out his fist.

Tweek's eyes trail down at the movement. He swings his hand forward and fist bumps him.

"Game on," Tweek repeats, his eyes twinkling as he gazes up at the stars.

The pair sit in silence as they stare out the back window. Clyde turns to Tweek and sighs, a serious thought popping up in the back of his mind. "You know, I think I finally understand why I had a crush on you."

"What?" Tweek squeaks, his cheeks flushing slightly as he whips his head around to match his eyeline.

"Well," Clyde swallows, already having a hard time getting through this, "my love life has always been a disaster, and I guess I've just been so afraid of rejection and putting myself out there again that I started going after things I knew I couldn't have," he explains, Tweek's shoulders easing while he goes through his explanation, "I'm sorry I got you guys tangled up in this mess."

"It's fine," Tweek states, releasing a heavy exhale as he turns back towards the backyard, "It kept things…interesting for a few days. I mean, I've been dating the same guy for ten years, I kinda forgot what it was like to have someone crushing on me."

Clyde smiles, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of his friend's statement, "Dude, Craig is still crushing on you hard. You know that, right? He never shuts up about you and he's always smiling like an idiot whenever you're around…well, the closest thing Craig has to a smile," he quips through a playful simper.

Tweek laughs. "I guess you're right," he beams, locking eyes with the Man in the Moon, "God, I don't deserve him."

"Yes, you do. You both do," Clyde assures him, talking like a proud parent as he stares down at the blonde, "You guys are serious catches. If you were still single in high school and you hadn't dated my best friend, I would've jumped all over that."

Tweek laughs once more, flushing slightly at the compliment. "Thank you, Clyde. You are too. You just don't see that," Tweek claims, narrowing his gaze on his friend, "Just be the good old sweet and charming Clyde Donovan and you'll find someone in no time," Tweek assures him, smiling when he sees Bebe slowly patter into the room in her slippers. "I better get going now. Craig will send a search party if he wakes up and I'm not next to him, all because of that one time I got stuck inside a Murphy bed," Tweek reminisces with a cringe and a shiver, "God, I still have nightmares about that."

Clyde smiles as he watches Tweek stand up and scurry out of the room, the brunette's face falling when he notices Tweek pass by Bebe, who is now standing a few feet behind him. "So this is it, huh?" Bebe speaks into the darkness, wondering if Clyde is feeling as awkward as she is right now, "The final showdown between you and me," she quips.

Clyde nods, laughing slightly at the dramatics, "Yep. It's game on, Stevens. Only one of us can survive," he adds, the pair chuckling while Bebe plops down beside him.

Clyde turns to the side, his laughter diminishing when he sees the face of the woman who broke his heart. He sighs, "Why did we break up?" he wonders.

Bebe tenses up as she stares out the window, the question seemingly out of nowhere. "You mean you don't remember?" she asks.

Clyde shakes his head. "No, I do," he answers somberly, "I remember everything about us. I just don't understand why you officially called things off after all these years. Was I not a good boyfriend?"

"No."

"Did I not love you enough?" Clyde presses further, leaning forward slightly as he hangs onto the blonde's every word.

"Of course not."

"Then please tell me why so I don't have to spend the next five years of my life trying to figure it out," Clyde pleads, desperation in his eyes as he clings to Bebe's forearm.

Bebe stares down at their touching limbs and sighs, "Clyde, there is nothing wrong with you, okay? You and I just weren't compatible. We were going in two different directions and growing apart. That's all."

There's a long pause as the pair stare longingly out the window.

"And even though our relationship fizzled out in a fiery explosion, you always tried your best to make me happy. And I'm really appreciative of that," Bebe adds with a smile.

"I was really happy for you, you know. Deep down, I was happy for you when you started dating David," Clyde confesses, barely able to look his ex in the eyes.

Bebe snaps her head up, shock gracing her face, "Really?"

"Yeah," Clyde nods, looking like it pains him to admit this, "Sorry things didn't work out."

"Eh, it's alright. I'm fine. In all honesty, the relationship was probably going nowhere," Bebe states, nonchalantly picking at her nails, "That, and there was someone else I couldn't stop thinking about," she reveals, stopping to gaze down at him.

Clyde tilts his forehead, "Who? Jimmy? He's pretty hot."

Bebe chuckles, her eyes shining, "No, Clyde. You."

"Oh…" Clyde chimes, thinking this over a bit before giving a nod, "Yeah, I'm pretty hot too." Bebe snickers.

"So, what do you say, Donovan? You wanna get back together for the umpteenth time only for it to explode in a blazing public spectacle for the whole town to gawk at?"

Clyde tenses up slightly as he braces himself to say the most difficult thing he has ever had to say to someone, "No thanks," he says, his response shocking even him, "I think I'm going to work on me for a while. For once, I'm actually going to do the smart thing and quit hopping from relationship to relationship trying to find myself."

Bebe leans back slightly and nods, hurt though impressed by her ex's actions, "Wow, Clyde. You've really grown," she states, a pleasantly-surprised tone in her voice.

"Yeah…I guess things really do develop quicker here," Clyde admits with a smirk, "That, and I have a really great best friend looking out for me," he adds, happy tears budding in the corners of his eyes.

…

Clyde Donovan
Token's Best Friend/Major Winner

So, I didn't get the guy or the girl, I'm best friendless, and I'm not going to win this game…but I'm happy. Clyde Donovan is truly happy. And I haven't felt that way in a long, long time. Thank you, Big Brother. (smiles)

…

Early the next morning, Bebe is standing in the girls room, nervously pacing in front of her best friend, who is sitting on her environmentally-friendly comforter. "I'm so scared, Wendy," Bebe tells her, venting her fears aloud, "I'm so worried that Tweek is going to switch cause I got put up against Clyde."

"He won't switch," Wendy answers firmly, looking like she's never been more sure of something in her life, "He's 100% with us, Bebe."

"I hope so," Bebe sighs, stopping in her tracks and turning to her BFF, "Cause if he doesn't force the tie, I'm gone for good."

…

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

I'm so nervous about this vote. Tweek isn't as close to me as he is to Wendy, or even Clyde for that matter. And even though the three of us have an alliance, he could easily turn his back on me and vote me out. Right now, the vote is locked at 1-2, with Wendy voting for Clyde, and Craig and Cartman voting for me. If Tweek doesn't pull through and vote for Clyde today, I have no chance of being here next week. I guess this is truly a test of how dedicated Tweek is in going to the end with me.

…

Later that morning, Kyle is sitting at the kitchen island, taking inventory and making a shopping list for the next week. "Hey, Clyde, do you want Trix again?" Kyle asks, staring down at the human garbage disposal, who is anxiously swirling some cereal pieces around with his spoon.

"What's it matter?" Clyde mutters, plopping his head into his palm with a sigh as he stares down at the swirling rainbow mess in his bowl, "I'm not going to be here tomorrow."

Kyle turns slightly in his seat, giving a sly smirk at his housemate, "I wouldn't be so sure about that," he states. Clyde leans back in his seat, a shocked expression spread across his face, the words jolting through his body and breathing new life into him.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Semi-tolerable Know-it-all

Personally, I don't really care who goes this week. I'd prefer Bebe, since she's the bigger threat and she's super charismatic. I mean, I know what she can do – she motivated the hell out of me when Stan cheated on me, and that kind of person is dangerous to keep around – but I'm fine with either of them being evicted, that's why I put them on the block.

…

A few hours later, all seven of the remaining housemates are gathered in the living room, the two nominees – Clyde and Bebe – situated in the two lush lounge chairs while the rest of the houseguests are seated on the surrounding sofas. Token clears his throat and hovers over the loudspeaker, "Alright, everybody. It's the most exciting time of the week…eviction time!" Token announces, a slight pep in his tone, "As always, the two nominees, Clyde and Bebe, are ineligible to vote. The HOH, Kyle, will only vote in the event of a tie," Token explains like clockwork, "One by one, I will call each of the four eligible houseguests into the diary room to cast their votes for eviction, but before I do so, I'm going to give each of the nominees an opportunity to tell the other houseguests why they should keep them. Bebe, why don't you go first?"

"Alright," Bebe states with a nod, her nerves at a ten as all the other houseguests turn their attentions to her, "Hi, everyone. I just want to say that I've enjoyed my time here, um, with all of you," she says, clasping her hands together, "If you think keeping me in this house would help your game in anyway whatsoever, I encourage you to do so, but I will respect any decision you make because this is just a game and I know all of you want to win the five-hundred thousand dollars," she concludes with a smile.

"Very nice," Token beams over the loudspeaker, before turning to his buddy, "Alright, Donovan. What do you got?"

Clyde laughs and turns to the crowd, "Hello, my friends and peers. This is my first and possibly only time on the block, and no matter what happens today, being here with you guys was 100% worth it. I had so much fun, and I really think I learned a lot about myself. Bebe," Clyde pauses, gazing at his ex-girlfriend, "you're a tough competitor and a super great ex-girlfriend. Craig, you're an amazing best friend," Clyde praises, gesturing to the noirette on the sofa, "And that's it. I love you all."

"Wow. Great speeches from the nominees. I don't know why I'm so surprised by that," Token comments, "But now, it is time to vote. Cartman, let's get it started."

"Oh, I get it. Like the Black Eyed Peas song," Cartman coos, "Very racist, Token."

Token groans, the sound of his palm smacking his forehead thumping over the loudspeaker, "Just go." Cartman nods and pulls himself out of his seat. He waddles over to the diary room.

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

Clyde is like a puppy and Bebe is like a cobra. Which would you get rid of if you didn't want to risk getting poisoned? I vote to evict Bebe.

Cartman wobbles back to his seat as Token calls Wendy up to the diary room. Upon hearing her name, Wendy turns to her best friend and lovingly pats the arm of Bebe's lounge chair. Wendy stands up and makes her way to the confessional.

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

Bebe is my best friend. There is no way I would ever vote her out. That being said, I vote to evict Clyde. Don't worry, girl. We got this. (winks)

Wendy smiles as she makes her way back to her seat, nearly knocking into Craig, who is standing near the coffee table, preparing to go next. Craig sighs as he walks over to the diary room.

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

Clyde, three weeks ago, you voted to save me, so I'm playing you back, dude. Today, I obviously vote to evict Bebe.

Craig returns to the living room and takes his seat on the sofa next to his boyfriend, the blonde twitching up a storm, nervously playing with his hands as he waits for Token to call him up.

"Tweek?" Tweek squeaks as Token calls him to the diary room, his knees bouncing up and down on the sofa. "Tweek? Didn't you hear me?" Token calls again, "It's your turn."

"Oh. Sorry," Tweek apologizes, his mind going a mile a minute as an internal battle between his head and his heart rages on inside him. Bebe turns to Wendy and flashes her friend a worried glance as Tweek stumbles over to cast his vote.

Tweek sighs as he arrives on the diary room sofa, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he speaks to the camera.

Tweek Tweak
Coffee Addict/Craig Lover

Clyde is a great person and an even better friend; I would be crazy to evict him, especially after everything we've been through both here in the house and in the outside world. Bebe is very reliable and strong. I made a deal with her Week 1 that we would stick together and look out for each other as long as we're both in the game. So… (pauses and stares out into space) …God, this is hard. (sniffs and wipes tears from his eyes)

Five minutes later, Tweek finally emerges from the diary room, looking like he just found out that his grandmother died. Tweek plops back down on the sofa next to Craig, the blonde's face red and puffy from the intensity of his voting confessional. Tweek sniffs and wipes his nose on his palm. Craig wraps his arm around his boyfriend and holds him close.

"Alright, everyone. The votes are in. As always, once I reveal the results, the evicted houseguest will have one minute to gather his or her belongings, say their goodbyes, and walk out the front door," Token explains, before dramatically pausing to read the results. Bebe stiffens in her seat, her stomach sinking to the floor. She closes her eyes to lessen the blow, "For the second time this season, we have a tie," Token announces, the other houseguests – minus the Craig and those guys gang and Wendy - surprised by this news. "As you know, in the event of a tie, the current HOH, Kyle, will cast the deciding vote. So Kyle, whenever you're ready, stand up and announce your eviction to the other houseguests."

"Thank you, Token," Kyle replies, taking a deep breath before standing up and facing his nervous housemates, "Hey, guys. I know this week was insane and I just want to say that I think everyone handled things very maturely," Kyle says, scanning the room, "As Bebe said earlier, this is a game, and because of that, we're all going to have to make some tough decisions, and I'm a strategic player, so I have to make one today," Kyle continues, narrowing in on Wendy, who is holding onto her best friend's hand for dear life, looking like she is about to crush it. Kyle's face softens when he sees the devastated expression on her face, the raven's gaze glued to the floor. He gulps, his heart beating frantically in his chest as he spews out a statement before he can even think about it, "I vote to evict Clyde. I'm sorry."

At this, Tweek bursts into tears from the sofa. Craig pulls him into his chest, appearing equally as devastated. "I'm sorry, Clyde, but with a vote of 3-2, you have been evicted from the Big Brother house," Token announces, making the eviction official.

Clyde nods and stands up from his seat, taking it in stride. "That's okay, Token. Thank you, everybody. I had a great time," he says, immediately being met with hugs from his ex, the HOH, and even the resident's fatass. Wendy is still too stunned by the result to move.

Clyde smiles as he grabs his suitcase, giving a small wave to the trio before following behind Craig and Tweek, his friends walking him to the front door. Tweek sniffs as they stop in front of the entrance. Craig pulls Clyde into a hug. "Bye, dude. I'll miss you."

"Man, that's a lot coming from you," Clyde comments, giving a smile as he pulls away from his group's leader.

"Clyde, I'm so sorry," Tweek cries once Clyde pulls the twitchy blonde into a hug.

Clyde looks down at him and smiles, "Tweek, it's okay. I totally get it," he tells him, taking a step back to grab his bag. Clyde grins as he stares back at his two friends, throwing his arm up in enthusiasm, "Kick ass, you guys!" he beams, the door slamming shut behind him. Tweek cries into his palms the moment it latches shut.

The blonde sniffs as he turns to Craig, "I had to do it. I couldn't break a promise," Tweek states in a whimper.

Craig nods, pulling him protectively into his side, "I know," Craig whispers, "And he knows that too. Trust me," he assures Tweek, affectionately rubbing his shoulder, "I'm proud of you, babe."

…

Later that night, Wendy is pacing circles around the HOH room, her mind reeling over the unpredictable events of that day. Wendy stops in her tracks, sighing as she runs her fingers through her black locks. She moves her hand up, her fist hovering over the wooden HOH room door, debating her next course of action. Finally, after a few moments of pondering every single way this could possibly go wrong, Wendy moves her hand down and knocks on the door. A few moments later, the current HOH answers it and appears in the doorway.

"Oh, Wendy," Kyle speaks, a glint of surprise in his tone, "I honestly wasn't expecting to see you tonight."

Wendy steps back slightly, suddenly feeling nervous around the redhead. "Oh, well, um, I just came by to thank you for what you did today. You know, saving Bebe," Wendy clarifies, wondering if she looks as awkward as she feels right now, "So, um, thank you, Kyle."

"Uh, no problem," Kyle replies with a nod, feeling equally as awkward.

"So…yeah…that's it," Wendy trails off, too embarrassed to make eye contact, "Goodnight."

"Yeah…goodnight," Kyle says back, his face frowning at the shortness of their conversation. Kyle scrunches his forehead as he turns back towards the door, wondering where this unanticipated wave of disappointment is coming from.

Wendy turns around and heads towards the kitchen. She stops in her tracks and stands up straight, her eyes widening as a strange bolt of courage jolts through her body.

"Aw, what the hell," Wendy states, before turning back around and racing towards him. Wendy stops in front of a puzzled Kyle, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest as she leans forward, grabs him tenderly by the sides of his face, and passionately kisses him.

After a moment, the pair pull away, both Wendy and Kyle equally stunned as they stare into each other's eyes, the latter blushing furiously. Nearby, Craig is standing in the shadows, slowly backing his way into the diary room in shock after witnessing yet another heated exchange between Kyle and one of the houseguests.

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

Well…I didn't call that. I really gotta stop using the bathroom so late at night. I open myself up to way too many awkward encounters.

Chapter Text

Craig Tucker is standing in the living room early the next morning, his arms extended as he talks to the host, who is speaking to him through the nearest loudspeaker. "Come on, Token, it's his twenty-second birthday this Friday, and I don't have anything I can give him except me. And I already got him that last year!" Craig pleads, doing his best to keep his voice down so the rest of the housemates don't hear him, "Tweek always says he doesn't want anything, but I really want to get him something good this year. We both know he's always been way out of my league. I can't afford to screw this up. This is the only thing I have going for me!"

"True," Token's voice blares through the speaker, "But I can't buy you anything, Craig; it's against the rules. If I buy things for you, then I'm going to have to start buying things for everyone, and I'm not made of money-oh, wait. Yes, I am," Token states smugly, "But I'm still not buying Tweek a birthday present."

Craig huffs as he crosses his forearms, "I can't believe this. Aren't you the one who makes the rules?"

"Yes, which is why it brings me great joy to tell you that you're on your own," he quips.

…

Tweek Tweak
Upcoming Birthday Boy

My birthday is on Friday, and I can't think of a worse present than getting evicted. (pauses slightly) – That's not true, I can think of at least a hundred presents worse than that. Damn my irrational fears! (snaps fingers)

…

Tweek groans, rubbing his aching forehead as he walks into the living room, the mere volume of the conversation waking him up that morning. "Token?" Tweek moans, blinking slowly as he regains consciousness. Tweek steps in the center of the room, Craig's eyes widening at his presence, the noirette nearly jumping out of his skin upon noticing him, "What's going on here? Mmph!" Craig quickly snaps his hand over Tweek's mouth.

"Nothing, babe," Craig sweatdrops, before looking up at the loudspeaker, "See you later, Token!" he shouts, dropping a strong hint for the host to depart. Surprisingly, Token listens and gets off the intercom. The blonde turns and glares at his partner the second Craig pulls his hand down. "You're so cute when you're angry," Craig beams.

Tweek huffs, already getting all flustered from the comment as he stomps his foot on the carpet, "I am not cute!" he squeaks.

…

A few minutes later, Kyle moans as he slowly lifts his head up from his pillow. He turns to the side on his mattress, the redhead's eyes widening as he spies Cartman fast asleep next to him. Kyle nervously looks down, heaving the biggest sigh of relief he has ever released in his life when he sees that the two of them are still fully clothed.

Kyle Broflovski
Indecisive Know-it-all

I don't know why I even have to tell you nothing happened. But absolutely nothing risqué happened between Cartman and I last night. (shivers at the thought) He just fell asleep after he yelled at me for not evicting Bebe.

…

Tweek Tweak
Extreme Coffee Addict

I feel so bad about what happened yesterday. I forced the tie, which ultimately resulted in Clyde getting evicted. It was the hardest move I had to make in the game so far. And if I'm feeling this awful this early on, I can only imagine how much worse it's going to get down the line.

…

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

Yesterday, Tweek voted to keep me over Clyde. And, hey, I gotta respect him for it; he's true to his word, even though I don't necessarily think it was in his best interest to do so. I mean, I am pretty tough. It's going to take an army to get me out of here. (smiles)

…

Later that morning, Kyle and Cartman are hanging out in the kitchen, the fatass sitting on one of the barstools at the kitchen island, watching curiously as Kyle fiddles with the Grindmaster 5000, the redhead accidentally stubbing two of his fingers in the process.

Cartman huffs, "What the hell is going on with you, Kahl? You're been acting like an idiot all day, even more than usual," he adds as Kyle rubs his aching limbs.

Kyle sighs, nervously fumbling with his coffee mug, "Nothing!" he chirps, his eyes widening as Wendy walks by, the raven-haired girl awkwardly avoiding eye contact, "I'm just a little anxious about the HOH competition this week," he lies.

Cartman rolls his eyes, "I don't know why," he grunts, leaning back in his seat smugly, "We both know I'm going to ace it."

Kyle nods, anxiously fiddling with the lone necklace around his neck, the HOH key nearly jabbing into his thumb in the process. "Right, of course," he answers, thoughts of last night whirling through his mind at record speeds. Kyle sets his mug down and leans forward on the counter, a dazed look in his eyes. He sighs as his gaze hovers over the HOH room door.

Cartman looks up at the ceiling after shaking his head at his secret-alliance partner, "God, you are such a weirdo," he grumbles.

…

"And then there were six!" Token dramatically announces as all six of the remaining houseguests gather in the backyard and stand in a horizontal line on the mat in front of the loudspeaker, "For your next challenge, we are having an all-day dance competition."

"Oh no," Craig cries, through gritted teeth, stepping forward as he points and glares up at the loudspeaker, "Don't you dare do this to me, Token!"

"I'm just kidding, Craig," Token cuts in with a chuckle, "For this luxury competition, we're going to be doing something a little bit different. You see, as of today, you've all made it to the halfway point of the season. That means, in four weeks, this game will come to a close, and one of you will be crowned the winner of Big Brother."

"*cough* Me *cough* *cough*" Cartman hacks into his knuckle.

"-Uh, sure," Token replies, rolling his eyes off-camera, "Anyway, since all of you have made it this far, it's time to amp up the difficulty of the challenges. And so, let me be the first to present to you, the terror that is The Big Brother Marionette!" Token vivaciously announces as a strange contraption drops behind the housemates. Dozens of ropes hang like spider webs above them as a real-life, gigantic marionette stand hangs over each of the houseguests. "For today's luxury competition, each of you will have your arms and legs strapped like a marionette to this lovely machine. Throughout the competition, the machine will move your arms and legs in random directions. The movements are sporadic, so watch out and hold on tight," he explains, "This competition is ten times easier if you keep your hands and legs in their respective cubbyholes, but you are not officially out until you fall on the mat below. The last person standing wins the biggest prize yet: a day out of the house with the housemate of their choice."

"Oh my God, Token, are you trying to low-key torture us?" Craig comments, narrowing his eyes at the marionette ropes.

"I said these competitions were going to get harder, Craig, and I meant it," Token quips without skipping a beat, "Alright. I'm going to give you guys fives minutes to get in, then we'll get this competition started."

Five minutes later, all six of the houseguests are hovering above the dark blue mat, hanging onto their respective ropes as they do their best to get their arms and legs comfortable in their cubbyholes. Tweek already looks positively terrified as he stares down at the ground, which is about three feet below him. "Oh God! Everything looks so small! I can barely see that ant!" Tweek shrieks, clinging onto his arm cubbies for dear life, his marionette situated next to Cartman's.

The fatass rolls his eyes, "Jesus Christ, Tweek. We haven't even started yet!"

"Okay, I'm going to count you down and then we'll get started," Token announces, gazing down at the housemates. He takes a deep breath, "Three…two…one…this competition is on," he calmly declares.

Wendy yelps as her right arm slides to the side, "Geez, even standing still is tough."

Token gives a nose laugh, "I told you guys this would be a challenge."

Cartman snorts, "All I'm saying, Token, is that this reward better be worth it," he huffs, "I better not win this and discover that the prize is something lame, like a day out of the house with Kenny."

"Man, what do you have against our friend?" Kyle wonders from his spot to the right of the fatass.

"Alright, everyone," Token speaks after a moment of silent concentration from the contestants, "It's been five minutes, so we're finally going to turn the machine on. Hold on tight, cause all of you are about to be jerked around like-"

"-like marionettes, we get it!" Cartman snaps.

Token nods, blinking lightly in shock, "Yeah, like marionettes," he concludes, coughing once into his palm before turning the machine on above the houseguests. It makes a horrifying, gear-jolting sound as it starts shifting the contestants in random directions. It moves the left and right straps apart, forcing them into a semi-splits stance.

Cartman grunts as he shoots a death glare at the loudspeaker, "Come on, Token, no one's this flexible!"

"Eek!" Tweek loses balance, slips off, and falls back-first onto the mat. An evil, maniacal laugh chimes out above him.

"Sorry, Tweek," a ghoulish voice mocks, "But you're out. Bwahaha!" Token takes his hand off the distorter button and smiles.

"You know, I'm not even going to comment," Cartman grumbles.

Two minutes later, the five remaining houseguests are still holding onto their cubbyholes for dear life, doing their best brace themselves for whatever's coming next. Cartman groans in distress as he loses grip of his left arm hold, the fatass tumbling to the mat shortly afterwards. "Goddammit!" he cries, after landing flat on his ass.

"Only 7 minutes? Someone must be a disappointment in bed," Token's distorted monster voice rings out above them, a few of the remaining contestants cracking a smile at this playful jab.

"AYE! You shut your mouth, or I'll come up there and kick your ass!" Cartman threatens, shoving his finger in the camera's lens.

"Wah-wuh!" a foghorn blares out above him.

Token sighs, biting back a laugh, "Cartman, just take a seat on the sidelines. You're officially out of the running for the day out of the house, cause you just fell and no one likes you enough to take you," he announces to Cartman before turning the crowd.

Cartman exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, "Token, I swear to God-"

Five minutes later, Token smiles as he turns to the four remaining houseguests. "Well, congratulations, you guys, you have made it twelve whole minutes into this competition," Token states smugly, pretending to sound impressed. Cartman rolls his eyes from the sidelines, his arms crossed as he sits in the lounge chair three seats down from Tweek, "Since we're planning on re-airing this as a Halloween episode, here comes the fog!"

Token snaps his fingers as a crackle of thunder rings above the gigantic marionettes. The contestants watch as a huge stream of fog rains down on them. The fog is so thick that it's nearly impossible to see even three feet in front of their bodies.

Wendy coughs twice as the scenery blurs around her. Unbeknownst to her, Kyle is straining to get a glimpse of her through the fog, "Oh God, why does it feel like we're all going to die?"

"Well, that's definitely the vibe this season is giving off," Bebe mutters under her breath, looking like she is done with all this nonsense.

"Oh no. Oh no!" Kyle cries, struggling to pull himself center, but his arms and legs feel like jello. "Oomph!" Kyle sighs as he lands onto the mat with a final time of just fourteen minutes. As expected, the monstrous laugh chimes out above him.

"Sorry, Kyle. Looks like your brain was too heavy for this challenge. Take a seat on the sidelines," Token devilishly voices.

Kyle sighs as he slowly stands up in place, rubbing his aching lower back as he carefully makes his way to the sidelines, his arms and legs stiff from the contraption. "Well, at least my comment was more flattering than Cartman's," he mumbles.

"We are approaching the half-hour mark," Token announces, about fifteen minutes after the resident's redhead fell, "and there are only three of you still in the running for the prize: Wendy, Bebe, and…Craig…somehow," Token mutters in disbelief as he stares down at the three remaining houseguests, "This competition is physically draining. The longer you're up there, the more it hurts."

"-And I just realized that Craig is doing this whole challenge on an injured leg," Kyle speaks up from the sidelines.

Craig grunts, straining in pain as he struggles to remain in the cubbyholes, "No shit, Sherlock."

"Man, Craig, that's the first sarcastic comment you've made this entire competition," Token states through the loudspeaker, a hint of surprise in his tone, "Usually you're the sass master."

"Shut up, Token, I'm actually trying to win this thing," Craig retorts, holding his arms and legs steady, "There's nothing I want more than to escape from the terror that is this house."

From the sidelines, Cartman and Kyle exchange shocked glances, unable to believe what they are hearing. "Oh shit," Cartman whispers as he fiddles with his ear, "Craig actually gives a damn…"

"Mwahaha!" the monster's voice chimes as Wendy ricochets back onto the mat. "Four down…one to go…"

"Good job, Wendy!" Tweek praises from the sidelines.

Wendy sniffs as she stands up, rubbing her aching forearm. She sighs as she wobbles over to the lounge chairs and takes a seat next to Tweek.

Ten minutes later, Bebe and Craig are still balancing on their cubbyholes, both appearing equally uncomfortable.

"I must say, I'm impressed," Token coos above them, "I didn't think anyone would make it past the forty-minute mark, but you two have proved me wrong."

"Hurrah," Craig hisses sarcastically.

"Craig! Craig, come on," Bebe pleads next to the noirette, looking like she is about to fall at any moment, "I really want this. We can make a deal – if you drop now, I'll take you."

"No chance, Stevens," Craig grunts as the machine moves them into the warrior position, sweat dripping from his forehead. Tweek watches worriedly from the sidelines, "That wouldn't be fun for anyone. If you want to win, you have to beat me."

"Ah!" Bebe groans, shifting her weight back onto her legs, "Why do you want to win this so badly anyway? You barely spend any time with us as it is!" she shouts defensively.

"Cause it's not for me, dipshit!" Craig grits through his teeth, the rage bubbling over inside him.

Bebe leans back slightly, her face softening at the sudden outburst as the situation becomes crystal clear, "Oh."

The machine lurches forward, thrusting the two remaining housemates into a forward splits. "Okay, no, this isn't worth it. I'd like to keep my legs," Bebe mutters, popping her legs out of the cubbyholes and flopping backwards onto the floor.

"Wow. Congratulations, Craig, you have won The Big Brother Marionette luxury competition!" Token announces, the noirette dropping backwards onto the mat a mere three seconds after Bebe was eliminated.

"I'm going to fuckin' kill you, Token," Craig moans, hand perched weakly against his stomach as he struggles to collect his breath.

"Man, I'm surprised it took you a month into the season to say that," Token jokes as the other houseguests get up from their sideline seats and gather around him.

"Geez Craig, you sure are flexible," Cartman states, flashing a shit-eating grin as Craig sits up from the mat.

Craig exhales, narrowing his eyes at him while he slowly stands up, "Shut the fuck up, Cartman," he snaps before gliding over to hug his boyfriend. Craig sighs, feeling his anger melt away the second he wraps Tweek in a warm embrace, "Happy birthday, babe."

Tweek sighs sweetly as he snuggles his head into his boyfriend's chest. "Thank you, Craig," he blushes.

"So, Craig," Token speaks out above the couple, "Who are you going to be taking with you on your reward?"

Craig glares up at the loudspeaker, his arm still wrapped around his partner, who is resting a palm gently on the noirette's chest. Tweek stares up as well, flashing a clueless look on his face.

Craig facepalms and sighs as he mutters under his breath, "Are you fuckin' serious, Token?"

…

Tweek Tweak
Coffee Addict/Cute Blonde (Please don't kill me, Craig!)

I don't usually win things here – I can literally count the number of times I've won something on one finger – but Craig won the competition today, so I get to go on the reward with him. He actually won it for me, and watching him do that was pretty damn hot.

…

Later that morning, Tweek and Craig walk curiously into the backyard holding hands, the latter letting out a rather heavy sigh as Token directs them to a small table set up in the center of the lawn. "Alright, guys, since this is the first season of the show and the first outside reward, we gotta make sure that we do this legitimately," Token explains as the couple stops in front of the center, circular table. Craig cocks an eyebrow and glances down at the blindfolds spread across the table's surface, "So, you two are going to put these blindfolds on, then exit through the shed door, which will lead you out of the house and into a limo. Once you're inside, you're allowed to take your blindfolds off, but not a moment before," Token explains, Tweek giving a curt nod at the instructions, "Got it?"

"Yep," Tweek answers while Craig flips the camera off.

Token sighs, "I guess someone's still sore from the competition. Maybe by the end of tonight, you'll be sore from something else."

"Here's hoping," Craig mutters as he stares down at the patio, arms crossed.

"Whenever you're ready, the exit's over there, you two," Token reminds his friends while Tweek slips his blindfold on, Craig shrugging and following suit shortly afterwards.

Craig glares up at the camera – or, rather, in the direction of the camera, "You know, this would be ten times easier if you just let us put these on in the shed right before we step off the property."

"Craig? Craig, where are you?!" Tweek shrieks, already freaking out next to him. Token laughs as Tweek fumbles forward, feels up the ground, and hugs a tree, "Is this you? Man, you got skinny."

"Tweek, babe, I'm right behind you," Craig assures him, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder.

"Eek! Something's touching me!"

Craig sighs, "That's me."

Tweek's face pinkens, "Oh." Tweek feels around and slides his hand down Craig's arm, interlocking their fingers.

"Okay, I think we're near the shed. I can feel a door," Craig states, holding his free hand out and blindly pushing forward. The couple enter into the darkened shed, Craig pulling his boyfriend forward by the hand as they attempt to maneuver their way through it to get to the car.

A loud crash sounds as Craig accidentally knocks into a jagged corner. "-Fuck," he hisses through his teeth, clenching his side in pain. "Leave it to Token to find a way to make the reward a punishment," he states, fumbling forward in the hopes of locating the exit.

"Ack! Craig! Why are you grabbing onto my ass?" Tweek squeaks.

Craig smirks, blinking twice under his blindfold, "Oh, is that what that is?" he asks, playing dumb.

Tweek blushes, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend's antics, "Just come on, I think I found it."

The pair stumble outside, Tweek accidentally knocking into the limo driver in the process, who is holding open the backdoor for them. "Oop. Sorry," Tweek states, before quickly slipping into the backseat with Craig's help, Craig following right behind him. The car door slams shut.

The noirette sighs as he pulls off his blindfold. "Well, we made it. And all it cost was my patience."

"You can't lose what you never had, Craig," Tweek smirks, reaching for his seat belt.

Tweek squeaks as Craig reaches across the seat and pulls him into a hug. Craig smiles, his eyes shining as he gazes down at his love, "God, I love you so much."

…

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

Last night I made a move on the current HOH, Kyle. It wasn't strategy; it just felt right. And now, unsurprisingly, Kyle has been avoiding me like the plague, but I'm not one to shy away from awkward situations. I always tackle things head-on.

…

"So, you really kissed him, huh? Man, Wendy, you got guts," Bebe states, sorting through the magazines on her bed.

Wendy sits up on the mattress across from her and sighs, hugging a pillow to her chest. "Honestly, Bebe, I don't know what came over me. I mean, I'm still not convinced that I'm completely over Stan," she confesses.

"Wendy, you just kissed the guy, it doesn't have to be anything serious," Bebe says, flipping through the latest issue of Seventeen magazine. "As long as he doesn't think it is, it's totally fine. You guys just need to make sure that you're on the same page with this thing, so this doesn't come back to bite you later."

Wendy nods, staring up at the scenic landscape of Colorado hanging above her best friend's bed. "You're right," she sighs, "Wow, Bebe. When did you become so wise?"

…

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

Craig's performance during the competition today was impressive, which only made the strategic gears in my brain start turning. Cause no one – and I mean no one – in this house can be better at the competitions than me!

…

Cartman and Kyle are sitting in the HOH room on Kyle's double bed, Cartman's voice low and somewhat terrifying, "You know we can't keep him, right?" he speaks suddenly, fiddling with a hangnail.

Kyle looks up and tilts his head, "Keep who?" he wonders.

"Craig," Cartman courtly answers, not bothering to look up from his fingers, "It's too risky, especially with Tweek chirping in his ear," he elaborates, narrowing his eyes at the Jew, "We either need to get rid of Craig or his motivation."

Kyle widens his eyes at the fatass, his mouth gaping slightly, "You don't mean…?"

"Yes," Cartman states definitively, the corner of his lip twitching up into a smirk as he delivers the bone-chilling news, "It's time to split up the couple."

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

These past few days have been kinda tough for me emotionally, which is shocking for anyone who's known me for longer than five seconds. The house has been super tense ever since Clyde left yesterday. He really brought a sense of fun here and, honestly, I haven't really been the same since. But, I swear to God, if you tell him that, I will send you straight to Peru. But at least I have Tweek here to make me feel better.

…

"I'm sooo happy," Craig coos as he holds his boyfriend in a tight, warm embrace in the backseat of the limo. Tweek squirms slightly while he continues gazing out the window, dozens of beautiful trees and buildings passing them by.

"Tweek," Craig sternly speaks, after a few moments of comforting silence. Tweek tenses a bit at the seriousness of his tone before looking up wondrously at his boyfriend. The blonde cocks an eyebrow. "I have to tell you something," Craig gulps, "…I'm gay."

Tweek laughs, the worry flushing from his face, "No shit, dude. I've seen your boyfriend," he giggles into his palm.

"I'm just happy to get out of that house. It's nice to get away from the people I hate," Craig comments with a relieving sigh, his eyes hovering over the selection of liquor on the side of the door. He grabs a bottle and turns to his love, "Hey, babe. Wanna be a little reckless and dumb? I mean, this is a birthday celebration, after all. You only turn twenty-two once," he coos, his face hardening when he locks eyes on a nearby camera while popping open the top, "Don't do drugs, kids," he states firmly, before throwing his head back and taking a swig of beer.

Tweek cocks his forehead, "You know, your message would've been way more effective if you didn't take a swig of beer immediately after," he quips, "Also, did you just YOTTO me?"

"What the hell is a YOTTO?" Craig repeats, trying not to crack a smile at his boyfriend's cuteness.

Tweek rolls his eyes as he leans forward in his seat, holding his arm out in the classic grabby position, "Just give me the liquor," he smirks.

…

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

A lot of people in the house have been struggling to figure out what my strategy is in this game, but I know better than to lay my cards out on the table. No one, not even Kahl, knows what I'm up to. Kiel thinks I'm purposely eliminating all of the bigger targets and keeping the goats…which is true, to some extent, but he fails to see the cold, hard truth behind my plan. The truth is, I'm cutting all the most skilled competitors and dragging the ultimate goat – Kiel himself – with me to the finals, making him do all my dirty work along the way. Then, when it's down to just the two of us, he'll take the fall for being my little henchman, and I'll get all the credit for my genius strategic gameplay. (leans forward and smirks into the camera) – Tsk-tsk, Kahl. You should've known better than to trust me.

…

Later that afternoon, Kyle is sitting alone in his grand HOH room, scrounging through the various items in his goody basket. All of a sudden, Kyle stops, a manilla envelope catching his eye, tucked underneath a box of Sweetarts. Kyle steps back and quickly scans the room, before reaching forward and grabbing the corner, pulling the envelope out from the basket. He walks a few steps back and locks the door. Kyle frantically checks the area once more before tearing into the mystery envelope. Kyle pulls out a sheet of bright white paper and unfolds it, his heart sinking in his chest as he instantly recognizes the handwriting. He gulps, his throat drying up as he stares blankly at the wall in shock.

"Stan?"

…

A few hours later, Tweek laughs while he helps Craig walk back into the house, his arm wrapped tightly around his waist as he supports his boyfriend's body weight. The pair stumbles towards the kitchen, the night sky draped above them. Craig hiccups and tries to turn his head to look at his lover, but ends up overdoing it and gazing at a tree instead, "Honeycakes, I can't feel my legs!" Craig cries, unable to control his volume, "I think I left them in Vegas, pumpkin!"

Tweek giggles as he leads them forward in what he thinks is a straight line but is actually more of a parabolic curve, "You are so drunk."

"And you are sooo hot, baby," Craig coos, practically licking his partner's ear, the amount of pet names only escalating as they mosey into the house, "We should date. But I gotta ask my boyfriend first," Tweek laughs, "He's got a nice ass. – Don't touch it!" Craig growls, his eyes widening overdramatically as Tweek plops them both down on the sofa.

Craig cocks his forehead and leans towards the coffee table, grabbing an empty cup and holding it sloppily up in a toast, "Bottoms up!"

Tweek immediately stands tipsily up from the sofa. "Oop, sorry," he states innocently, only now just registering what Craig meant. Tweek leans down and latches onto his boyfriend, pushing him onto his back. The pair burst into a fit of hysterics as they hold onto each other.

After a moment, the laughter dissipates, a comforting silence wrapping around them like a warm blanket. Tweek smiles as he gazes down at his love, a small, genuine tear forming in the corner of his eye. "I love you, Craig," he whispers, tenderly stroking the side of the raven's face as he slowly lulls to sleep.

Craig hums, basking in the feeling before the slumber drifts him away, "I love you too, Tweek."

Tweek sighs gently as he leans forward, laying his head down on his boyfriend's chest and wrapping him in his arms, "Please…don't leave me," he whispers.

…

Tweek groans as the sun shines onto his face through the window early the next morning. The blonde sighs as he rubs his aching forehead, freezing his hand when he feels thick fabric covering the top of his head. Tweek blinks twice as he sits up on the sofa, holding the strings of Craig's chullo in his palms. "Craig?" Tweek speaks suddenly, his stomach dropping as he scans the area for his love, only to be greeted by emptiness, "Craig, where are you?!"

"Tweek, you're sitting on me," a muffled, nasally voice moans underneath him.

"Oh! Sorry!" Tweek jumps up and scurries to the side, off his boyfriend. Tweek widens his eyes as his hands gloss over his bare knees. "Um, where are my pants?" he wonders, staring down at his boxers.

Craig yawns, shifting uncomfortably on the cushion next to him, "I think I'm wearing them," he states, peering down at the skintight dark-wash jeans he is sporting after he sits upright.

"Hey, those look good on you," Tweek awes, checking out the cut of his jeans on his boyfriend.

"Thanks, babe," Craig replies, giving a small smile, "But what the hell happened to mine?"

"You threw them on the roof last night. You said you were trying to impress me."

Craig tilts his forehead, a smug look spread across his face, "Well, did I?"

"Oh yeah," Tweek nods, a playful glint in his eyes.

…

Tweek Tweak
Coffee Addict/Cute Blonde

I have a confession to make: I remember exactly what happened last night. Well, everything before I lost my pants and passed out with Craig in exhaustion. I take anxiety meds, so alcohol intake is basically a deathtrap. I haven't taken them too much since I got here, but I didn't want to take any chances yesterday and Craig agreed, so I just chucked most of my drinks out the window while he watched and cheered me on, but I still got kinda tipsy from all the secondhand alcohol I got from kissing him. Honestly, most of the evening was me trying to keep Craig from making a fool of himself on national television. The whole pants on the roof thing happened the one time I was in the bathroom. (shrugs)

…

Five minutes later, Wendy is sitting on her bed reading the latest issue of Seventeen magazine when Tweek drowsily walks into the girls room. Wendy perks up slightly, setting her reading down as she scans her friend over. Tweek's clothes and hair are askew, and his neck is covered in hickeys. "Well, someone had fun yesterday," Wendy quips.

"Huh?" Tweek squeaks, barely registering her comment as he turns and locks gazes with her, "Oh, yeah. It was the best birthday celebration ever, even if my mouth still tastes like Craig's vomit," he concludes.

"Ookay," Wendy coos, a weird-out look spread across her face, "And as your friend, I'm going to have to ask you to please never share that information with me again."

Tweek nods, smacking his lips together as he searches the room for a change of clothes. "Fair enough," he states, narrowing in on some of his clean clothes and picking them up off his dresser, "I'm going to take a shower now."

Wendy smiles, "Good plan."

Tweek exits the room, nearly knocking into Kyle in the process. He enters the area, looking frantic. Wendy pulls back slightly, leaning up against the back wall as Kyle approaches her – the redhead surprisingly fearless and determined.

"Wendy," he states, stopping in front of her as he dives right into the problem, "I got a letter this morning."

"Really?" Wendy squeaks, cocking her forehead, "From who?"

"Stan," Kyle answers, a mix of seriousness and worry lacing his tone, "I'm too afraid to read it," he admits somberly, taking a seat down next to her on the mattress, "What if it's full of swears?"

Wendy rolls her eyes, giving a small chuckle, "I seriously doubt he would do that," she states. An awkward pause washes over the pair as they stare down at their swinging feet, "Do you want me to read it?" Wendy asks suddenly.

"Sure, um, if you want," Kyle speaks into the silence, a tiny smile appearing on his face, "Just read the opening line and tell me if it's bad."

"Alright," Wendy states, holding her hand out and taking the letter from him. Wendy carefully opens the paper up and silently reads the first sentence. She abruptly pulls the letter down from her face and hands it back to him, "-I can't read this."

"Why not?" Kyle squeaks, his forehead scrunched, "Is it that bad?"

"No. He says it's only for you," Wendy says, her tone soft and comforting, "He doesn't want you to share it."

"Oh," Kyle gulps, gently grasping the letter in his palm, staring down fondly at the white piece of paper, "I guess I'll just read this later then." Kyle wordlessly folds up the letter and places it back into the envelope, before standing up from his seat on Wendy's bed, Wendy flinching slightly when he does so.

"Kyle?" Wendy squeaks, getting up from the bed and standing right in front of him.

Kyle blinks twice, blushing lightly as he turns to face her, "Yes?"

"Um…" Wendy begins, nervously rubbing her arm before breathlessly moving forward, softly pressing her lips against his. Kyle freezes in place for a moment, his brain short-circuiting for a few seconds before he pulls his arms up, delicately wrapping them around her waist as he kisses her back.

The fatass clenches his fist as he stands in the open doorway, feeling steam shooting out of his ears as he watches this infuriatingly scandalous display unfold in front of him and the remnants of Clyde frog Cartman is holding in his other palm. He stomps back into the boys room, grumbling under his breath the whole way.

…

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

So, Kahl has a new little love. This could be detrimental to my game plan, cause if Kiel's lusting after Miss Wendy Testaburger, then I'm no longer his number one. It looks to me like these two are getting too close, so perhaps it's time for me to chop off this third wheel and send her to the jury house so fast Kahl's head spins. And all I need to do to make this plan happen is win the next HOH competition. Then all the power will be in my hands, and I'll become the true puppet master of the season. (smiles devilishly into the camera) – What do you think of that, Token?

The host audibly yawns into the loudspeaker, the volume of the yawn causing the hairs on the back of Cartman's neck to stand.

Cartman rolls his eyes with a huff, sassily crossing his arms over his chubby torso as he glares up at the speaker, "Oh, fuck you, Token! My mom says I'm a freakin' genius!"

Chapter Text

Later that morning, Bebe is sitting on her bed, staring at her wildly-pacing best friend, the constant movement making the blonde's head spin. Bebe groans as she rubs her aching temples, hoping to soothe her bestie and tackle this problem before she vomits from the dizziness. "So, let me get this straight," Bebe begins, Wendy abruptly stopping in place at the sound of her voice, "you kissed Kyle twice and you still haven't established what you guys are?" she asks with an accusatory tone.

Wendy sighs, her back to her friend, rubbing her tired eyes as she mulls this over, "It's complicated, Bebe."

"What's complicated about it?" Bebe wonders, this conversation genuinely piquing her interest.

"Stan…Douchebag…" Wendy lists, turning slightly towards the bed.

"Ah," Bebe nods, "so you want to date him exclusively?"

Wendy blinks twice, the question catching her off-guard as she blushes deeply, snapping her head around to face her. "I never said that."

"Well, then what's the problem?"

"I just-I don't know, okay?" Wendy confesses, plopping down on the bed beside Bebe, "I guess I'm just worried that this isn't the best time to chase these feelings and jump into something new…especially for him. I mean, Douchebag just left a few days ago. He's probably still mourning that loss. I doubt he would want to have anything to do with me."

"Don't you think you should let Kyle make that decision for himself? It is his life," Bebe replies, placing a consoling hand on her bestie's forearm, "Besides Wendy, you're a total catch. Don't sell yourself short. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

Wendy turns to her friend, a small smile forming on her lips, "Thanks, Bebe," she sniffs, "And maybe you're right. Maybe I should just step back, give him space, and let him decide what he wants before I start jumping to conclusions. The last thing I want is to doom this relationship before it even begins," she states, Bebe nodding in agreement beside her.

…

Meanwhile, Kyle is standing in the HOH room, pacing back and forth in front of the dresser, stopping every few seconds or so to glance anxiously down at the letter sprawled on top of it. Finally, after pacing so much that he feels physically nauseous, Kyle grabs the envelope and tears it open. He stops, taking a big, deep breath before he unfolds the piece of the paper. Kyle sighs as he stares down at the sheet, silently reading its content.

"Ahem!" Token voices over the loudspeaker, the interruption causing Kyle's heart to jump in his chest.

"Oh God! Dude, what the hell?!" Kyle cries, jolting in place and putting his hand over his frantically-beating chest.

Token sighs and rolls his eyes off-camera, "Our cameras can't zoom in that far, Kyle. You need to read the letter out loud for the viewers."

"But Stan said he doesn't want me to-"

"And didn't Stan also say that he would never cheat on you?" Token reminds him, Kyle's face falling immediately at this response, "Sorry, that wound is still fresh, isn't it?"

"Yes," Kyle hisses, shooting the host a well-deserved glare.

"Perfect. Well, just read everything after that line, dork," Token states, quickly hopping off the loudspeaker before Kyle can voice another retort.

Kyle sighs and rolls his eyes, inching closer to the nearest camera. He folds the piece of paper over, revealing all the words that are written after Stan's plead to keep its contents a secret from the others. Kyle sharply exhales as he continues, whispering into the camera, "'Kyle,'" the redhead reads, "'I know we didn't leave on the best of terms, but being stuck in the jury house gives you a lot of time to think about your life and the decisions you've made both here and in the outside world. I always knew deep down that I was selfish, and being here has definitely confirmed this fear. I'm sorry that I hurt you, but I just want you to know that I know it wasn't your fault. I could beg and plead for you to come back and make you a bunch of empty promises, but I know it would be a lost cause and you deserve better, and better is not me. It's like Chef always said, 'it's up to you to decide who your heart goes to,' and I knew going into our relationship that I would never earn that honor. I have theories as to why that is, but again, I don't want to force my beliefs and make the decision for you. This is something you're going to have to figure out on your own,'" Kyle reads, pulling back slightly at his analytical confession, "But enough about us, let's talk about you. I'm so proud that you are still in the game, and I hope my eviction speech didn't hurt your chances at winning. I really think you can do this. This game was made for you. Now show us what you got! Don't forget to keep your head up. And remember, there's nothing stronger than a bond between a couple. But know that no matter what happens, you will always be my super best friend. Best of luck, Stan,'" he finishes. Kyle folds up the letter, sniffing lightly as he slips it back into its envelope, "And that's it," he states to the cameras, "He didn't write any more."

Kyle stands in silence, staring deeply at the carpet as he mulls over all that Stan wrote, one line in particular standing out above the rest. Kyle sighs as he pulls the letter back out from the envelope and rereads the puzzling statement, "'And remember, there's nothing stronger than a bond between a couple.' – That's such an awkwardly-placed sentence. Why did he underline that?" he wonders, carefully examining the words.

After a moment, Kyle sighs as he folds the paper back up in his hands, "Damn it, Stan," Kyle whispers under his breath, "Even when you're gone, you mess with my head."

…

Five minutes later, Tweek is standing on the lawn in the Big Brother backyard, using his hand as a visor as he watches Craig attempt to climb onto the roof to retrieve his pants. Tweek sighs as he looks up, squinting from the summer sun, "Are you sure you don't want me to help you?" he cries, "I was up there a few weeks ago!"

"No, babe, I'm fine!" Craig shouts back, still struggling to pull himself up onto the structure, "I can do this. I have killer upper-arm strength!"

Tweek chuckles, his eyes twinkling as he smiles, "Alright."

"Hey," Kyle greets, walking out the backdoor to join him, "What's Craig up to?"

Tweek nods in acknowledgement, not taking his eyes off his boyfriend, "He's climbing up the roof to get the pants that he threw up there yesterday."

"Why did he throw his pants on the roof yesterday-actually, I don't want to know the answer to that," Kyle quickly concludes, pausing slightly as he turns to his twitchy housemate, "Um, after you guys are done here, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Me?" Tweek squeaks, unable to believe what he is hearing; Kyle nods, "Oh, um, sure."

"Great. I'll be in the HOH room waiting for you," Kyle responds, pointing over his shoulder at the house while he backs up towards the sliding glass door. Tweek watches Kyle curiously as he leaves the backyard, still puzzled by his request to meet with him.

"Whoo! I did it, babe!" Craig cheers, holding his pants triumphantly up in his palm as he stands on the asphalt, "I got them!"

"Awesome! Now come back down here so you can lavish me with love and attention!" Tweek jokes, cupping his palms over his face like a miniature megaphone.

"Okay!" Craig exclaims. He steps backward as the wind picks up suddenly around him, causing Craig to lose his grip on his trousers. The pants fly out of his hands and land on a nearby power line. "Goddammit," he mutters, the addition of the item causing the power line to short-circuit. The pair cowers slightly as small sparks shoot out from the line, sizzling the pants in the process. Craig slowly lifts his head up, the air smelling like roasted pants as he turns to look at the damage, the lights completely off around him, "Uh oh."

…

A few minutes later, Tweek reenters the Big Brother house, the structure dead silent due to the blackout. Tweek softly sighs, looking over his shoulder as he moseys over to the HOH room. He stops in front of it and lightly knocks on the door, entering a few seconds after Kyle grants him access.

"So, um," Tweek begins, feeling quite awkward as he steps into the room, Kyle immediately closing the door behind him, "what do you want to talk about?"

"Well," Kyle says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he sits down across from the blonde, "I was wondering if you could give me some relationship advice," Kyle states, wondering if he sounds as awkward as he feels right now.

Tweek tilts his forehead, "Why me?" he wonders.

"Cause you're the only person I know who actually has a healthy one…and Craig scares me," Kyle quickly adds with a half-smile.

"Ah…" Tweek nods, understanding where he's coming from, "So, what's up?"

Kyle releases a heavy sigh as he stares down at the carpet, unsure how he should start this, "You know how I dated Douchebag, right? And then I rebounded with Stan?" Tweek nods, "Well, I'm worried that I'm rebounding again and I don't want to do that, especially to someone who's a good friend. But the truth is, I'm not even sure I am rebounding," Kyle admits, playing with his hands before giving a lighthearted shrug, "I mean, I always thought this person was amazing, even though they were technically taken-"

"Oh God, please don't tell me you're coming on to me too!" Tweek cries out, his eyes widening like dinner plates, "I CAN'T TAKE THE PRESSURE!" he shouts, cowering in a fetal position on the floor, his hands gripping his blonde locks for dear life.

"What?!" Kyle squeaks, quickly hopping off his bed and touching his shoulder, "No, Tweek, no. It's not you. I'm talking about Wendy!"

"Wendy?" Tweek repeats, his heart rate slowly decreasing as he says this. "Oh," he states, sitting up on the carpet, "Well, yeah, she's pretty great, but do you ever think maybe you're rushing into things? I mean, not to sound like an ass, but this is the third relationship you've had in the last two weeks."

"Yeah, you're right," Kyle agrees reluctantly, "Maybe jumping from relationship to relationship isn't the smartest decision on my end. Maybe the best thing I can do is just take a step away from her for now," he declares, shooting a small smile at the blonde, "Thanks, Tweek."

…

Ten minutes later, Token calls all six remaining housemates outside to the backyard. Several of the houseguests look confused as they enter the premises, the host rounding them up a few hours earlier than expected. Token smiles once everyone has gathered in a line in front of the loudspeaker, a brand new battery-powered television screen hanging on the wall below it. "Well, as you guys can see, we lost power in the Big Brother house this morning due to mysterious causes."

"Yeah, it really is a mystery," Craig mutters, his arms crossed as he stands next to Tweek.

"But, luckily, thanks to internet hot spots and a backup generator, the show can go on! It's just you guys who are going to have to suffer for a little while without power," Token adds, his smile as big as his wallet.

"Hurrah," Craig sarcastically grunts.

"But don't worry. The power should be back shortly...I hope," Token adds softly, before clapping his hands together off-screen, "Now, while the Big Brother electricians were investigating the cause of the power outage, we found this footage."

Token turns to his computer and presses the play button; a video starts playing on the television. The video shows none other than the residence's Craig Tucker drunkenly stumbling onto the lawn, the timestamp in the corner reading 2:03 a.m. "Whoo! This is Craig Tucker!" a very-wasted Craig screams at the top of his lungs, throwing his hands up in triumph, before much too eagerly ripping his pants off. He throws them onto the roof, hitting the center of the surface in one go and narrowly missing the power line.

"YEAH!" he cheers as Tweek enters into the backyard through the sliding glass door, Craig's pupils growing three times the size when he sees him, "Tweek, babe. Babe, check it out, babe!" Craig slurs, tugging sloppily on his boyfriend's sleeve, "I just chucked my parents-I mean, my pants, my parents' pants?" Craig stutters, already confused by his own statement, "-on the roof!" he hiccups, kneeling in front of him, "Are you impressed, honey baby angel face? I'd like to see your gay boyfriend, Greg, do that!" Craig cries. He heaves forward in a laugh, accidentally faceplanting on the lawn in the process, the outdoor lanterns illuminating his rear.

"Ack! Oh my God!" Tweek shrieks, quickly racing over to his boyfriend's aid, Craig's butt in the air. Tweek squats down and helps him sit upright. Tweek wipes some stray hairs away from Craig's face, staring out at him in concern, "Craig, are you alright?"

Craig groans and tautly narrows his eyes at the intruder, "Who the hell is Craig? I'm Lord Sexington!" he declares. Present-day Craig facepalms as the video ends, his muscles already hurting from all the cringing he did throughout.

Meanwhile, everyone standing around Craig is reveling over the normally stoic's wild onscreen demeanor, many of them flashing him shit-eating grins by the video's conclusion.

"Aww, man!" Cartman coos, "Why did you have to cut it off just when it was getting good?" he complains to the host.

Token nods, biting back a smug smile off-camera, "Lord Sexington – I mean Craig," he addresses, Tweek giggling into his palm next to his boyfriend, "would you care to comment?"

"All I'm saying is that doesn't prove it was me. I mean, that could be anyone," Craig defends.

Token's face falls slightly, perturbed by Craig's response, "You literally shouted, 'This is Craig Tucker!'"

"Again, that could be anyone," Craig repeats, before sighing and shaking his head at the dirt, "God, I'm never drinking again."

"Uh-huh," Token adds with a smile, "Yeah, I wouldn't if I were you. You're never going to be able to live this down," he casually comments, before turning to the others, "So, as a result of Craig barbecuing his pants this morning, we're just going to have to make due until the electricians fix the power."

Kyle cocks his forehead, "We have Big Brother electricians?"

"Yes," Token nods, "Remember Kyle, I'm super, super rich," he reminds him, "Now that we've taken care of that piece of housekeeping, it's time for us to start the fifth HOH competition. This is a little competition I like to call, Cage Match," Token reveals, redirecting the housemates' attention to the gigantic steel cage that is situated behind them, "The rules are simple: All five of you, minus Kyle, the outgoing HOH, will get into that tiny metal deathtrap. Whoever stays in that claustrophobic cage the longest wins. This competition may last ten minutes, or it could go all night. The winner will become the next HOH and guarantee themselves safety for the week," Token concludes, clapping his hands together, "Now, are there any questions before we start?" Token pauses slightly, allowing a few of the houseguests' hands to shoot up, "Too bad!" he quips, quickly dismissing them with a snap of his fingers, "Let's get ready to rumble!"

"Geez, Token. You've got some weird kinks," Cartman mumbles as he steps into the cage with the other four participating houseguests. Kyle locks the door behind them, per Token's instruction, and returns to his seat on the sidelines.

"Oh God, I don't like this challenge!" Tweek squeaks, already death-gripping the steel bars beside him, "I feel like I'm suffocating!"

"It's okay, sweetheart, just breathe," Craig states soothingly next to him. Cartman rolls his eyes.

"Alright, everybody, I hope you're ready, cause this challenge is on…" Token dramatically announces over the loudspeaker.

Five minutes later, Cartman huffs as Tweek vibrates next to him, the blonde's constant movement causing the cage to jiggle. "Oh, for fuck's sake, spaz, calm the fuck down!" Cartman snarls, snapping his head in his direction.

Tweek squeaks and hugs his trembling body as Bebe immediately jumps in to defend him, "Yeah, cause yelling at him is really going to help. I can't believe you sometimes, Cartman," Bebe states with a roll of her eyes.

"Like you're one to talk. You're the loudest person in this house!" Cartman blares as Tweek starts hyperventilating nearby, "When you and Clyde were doing it, I thought my eardrums were going to pop."

"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP? TWEEK IS HAVING A PANIC ATTACK!" Craig screams, instantly cringing at the volume of his voice the second the words leave his body. Everyone on the premises turns and looks at Craig with wide eyes, minus Tweek, who is clutching onto his boyfriend's arm, his head pressed against his shoulder.

"Relax, babe. You're fine. Nothing bad is going to happen," Craig says soothingly, though to most houseguests his tone sounds as stoic as ever. Craig wraps an arm around Tweek and holds him close. Craig leans to the side, kissing Tweek tenderly on the forehead before cuddling up against the twitchy blonde to comfort him.

Next to him, Cartman is making a face. "Yuck! Token, tell the gays to stop being gross!" he whines, like someone just took the last Chinpokomon doll.

"No way," Token beams, zooming a camera in on the PDA, "This will increase our Asian viewers."

"Do you want to step out and get some open air?" Craig whispers gently into his boyfriend's ear. Tweek pulls back slightly and nods, too ashamed to even look Craig in the face. "Okay, let's go."

The other three contestants watch in astonishment as Craig pushes past them, guiding Tweek to the door by the hand without hesitation. Craig reaches forward, unlatches the cage from the outside, and swings open the door. He steps out and leads his anxious boyfriend to the sidelines, the fatass giving a surreptitious grin as he does so.

"Um…and Tweek and Craig have been eliminated," Token dumbfoundedly speaks into the microphone, "But how the fuck did Craig open the door?"

"Magic!" Cartman coos with jazz hands.

A few minutes later, Tweek sniffs as Craig affectionately rubs his back while he sits on the chair next to Kyle, the raven handing him a cup of coffee. Tweek gingerly takes it, a fleece blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon as he shakes lightly. "I'm sorry, Craig," Tweek squeaks, his voice as small as he feels right now.

"It's fine, babe," Craig assures him, rubbing comforting circles on his back, "That HOH was dumb anyway," he assures, completely oblivious to the one-person audience. Beside them, Kyle is watching the couple's every move, a peculiar look spread across his face as he struggles to figure out why this cute moment is striking a chord in his mind.

"Well, you've all made it a half hour in this cage. Congratulations," Token states, a whopping twenty minutes later, while the trio continues watching from the sidelines.

Tweek sniffs, his panic subsiding, but he can still feel a ball of anxiety swirling in the pit of his stomach as he sees Cartman still competing for the win. Tweek scoots to the side and grabs Craig's hand, the noirette smiling when Tweek squeezes it.

Suddenly, the girls screech as a horrendous sounding and smelling fart erupts in the center of the cage, grossing them both. "Gross, Cartman! What did you eat?" Bebe wonders, pinching her nostrils shut as she frantically waves her hand in front of her face. "This smells worse than Taco Tuesday!"

"Oh God…I think the smell is getting into my clothes," Wendy notes, smoothing out her skirt in an attempt to salvage her super-cute outfit, "Oh God…I gotta get out of here!" she cries, swiftly gliding forward and exiting out of the contraption.

Kyle coughs twice from the sidelines as Wendy approaches him, "Dude! I can smell that from here!" he states, waving his hand in front of his nose as he tears up at the stench.

"And then there were two," Token voices dramatically, "Who will win the competition and become this week's HOH?"

Bebe cringes as she holds her nose shut, feeling like she is clinging onto her sanity for dear life. Cartman watches gleefully next to her as Bebe shuffles uncomfortably in place, shifting her weigh from side to side. "I guess it's only a matter of minutes, huh, Bebe?" Cartman coos, the shit-eating grin back and shining brightly on his face.

Bebe looks up. Her expression is fierce, but her resolve is weak. She sighs and nods.

"So, how about we make a deal then?" Cartman continues, basking in his upper hand, "If you drop out right now and let me win this HOH, I won't nominate you this week."

"Really?" Bebe squeaks, unable to believe what she is hearing. She turns to the sidelines and eyes Wendy, who is flashing the same skeptical look back at her, "But how do I know I can trust you?" Bebe asks, death-gripping the cell bars as she locks eyes with the fatass.

"You don't," Cartman answers firmly, "You're just going to have to take a risk."

Bebe sighs. Her eyes trail to the floor as she thinks over every possible way this deal could go wrong. Finally, after determining that the result couldn't be any worse than what she's experiencing now, Bebe turns to Cartman and holds out her hand. "Alright. Deal," she states.

Cartman reaches forward and grabs her hand, giving it a shake. "Excellent. Then step out, Stevens."

Bebe nods as she steps back, her hands sliding down the metal bars as she does so. She carefully makes her way over to the exit and pushes her way out the door, ignoring the horrified expressions generating from the sidelines.

"And with that, we have our newest HOH," Token's voice blares from the loudspeaker, his tone laced with shock, "Congratulations, Cartman! Come and get your key from Kyle, and enjoy all the responsibilities and privileges that come with being Head of Household!"

"FUCK YEAH!" Cartman cheers as he throws his arms up and barrels through the doorway. He races over to Kyle and snatches the key from him, wrapping it around his neck as the five remaining houseguests, minus Kyle, look at him timorously from the side of the house.

"Well, shit…" Craig mutters.

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

Do I regret stepping down and essentially making a deal with the devil? No. In this game, you need to protect yourself.

…

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

Would I have trusted me? Hell no. But I know what that guy is capable of. (smirks) That's a rookie move, Bebe. But will she play for it? I don't know. It depends on what the best move is to get me further.

…

Five minutes later, Tweek enters into the boys room, a resounding guilt washing over him. Tweek sighs as he exasperatingly throwing his hands down, sporting the biggest headache he's had all week. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," he apologizes profusely as his boyfriend stands at the doorway, "If it weren't for me and my stupid panic attack, we'd be safe. I doomed us, I doomed us all, Craig!" Tweek cries, on the verge tears.

"Come on honey, don't say that," Craig coos, stepping in the room and gently closing the door, "This isn't your fault."

"Yes, it is! I let my stupid anxiety wreck our game. I'm such a fuck up!" Tweek shouts, flopping down on the bed defeatedly, tears forming in the creases of his eyes.

"Hey, come on now, babe. You are not a fuck up," Craig states soothingly as he sits down next to him, wrapping his arm around Tweek and pulling him into a warm side hug, "You are so smart and so sweet and just an all-around amazing human being. Why would you even say that?"

"Because! Just look at me, Craig. I'm a wreck!" Tweek cries, feeling like he is going to lose it at any moment, "I'm anxious, I'm twitchy, I'm awkward, and I can't go five minutes without coffee. I'm surprised I even lasted a day, let alone a whole month in this house!" he confesses, tears streaming down his cheeks, "I've done nothing but hold you back since we got here. And come tomorrow, you won't have me as a handicap anymore and you'll have a real shot at winning this thing…just like everyone else," he says, his sorrow filling the room.

Craig stares straight ahead at the wall, his forehead scrunched pensively. After a brief moment, he turns to his boyfriend and sighs. "Tweek, I don't even know where to begin with this because everything you just said is a load of bullcrap. We've always known who the stronger of the two of us is, and it sure as hell isn't me," he confesses, trying hard to get Tweek to look at him, "You need to quit blaming yourself for being you, babe. Being you isn't a bad thing, and I wish you'd stop viewing it like it is."

"But I just cost you game," Tweek squeaks, his voice so soft that the words are barely audible.

"You didn't," Craig assures him, staring back at the wall, "And even if you did, it doesn't matter. This game was never mine in the first place…"

Tweek cocks his forehead while he gazes at Craig, puzzled by his response as he struggles to determine what exactly the stoic means by that. After a few moments, Tweek caves and hopelessly plops his head on his boyfriend's shoulder.

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

I want to make one thing perfectly clear: My boyfriend is not a liability.

…

Meanwhile, Cartman is sitting in his brand-new HOH room with Kyle, celebrating his victory. "My plan worked perfectly, Kahl," Cartman boasts as he sinks into his luxurious lounge chair, the redhead situated on the edge of the double bed across from him, "At long last, Craig will be gone!"

"You do know you could've gotten him out Week 1, right?" Kyle quips, scanning over Cartman's gift basket.

"But it wasn't the right time, Kiel!" Cartman huffs, his cheeks puffed out like a blowfish, "We needed Craig here to target Stan to preserve our game a bit longer. And now that Stan's gone, we need to strike Craig first before he strikes us. So, here's the plan," Cartman begins, leaning forward in delicious anticipation, licking his lips as he makes eye contact with his alliance partner, "We'll put Craig on the block, then put Spazzy McSpaz up as the pawn, so Tweek can't plead to save him. Craig will get evicted, and Tweek will have a nervous breakdown and self-evict shortly afterwards. Then…ta-dah! We're in the final four," he beams, lounging back in his seat with a satisfied smirk.

"Man…I don't know, Cartman," Kyle replies, his voice wavering slightly, "If we do that, we have a possibility of ticking off everyone in the house, and that's going to hinder us from making potential allies later on," he worries, Cartman narrowing his eyes at him, "Maybe it's best if we don't put the couple on the block."

"Kahl, you are such an idiot," Cartman ridicules, staring up at the ceiling, "We can't keep them both here; their bond is too strong!"

Suddenly, Kyle freezes in place, Cartman's last five words turning a light switch on in his mind. "Oh my God," Kyle speaks into the silence, his eyes as wide as saucers, "That's exactly what Stan was trying to tell me. He wants me to separate Tweek and Craig!"

Cartman cocks his forehead, puzzled by the Jew's antics, "What the hell are you talking about, Kahl?"

Not giving it a second thought, Kyle races over to his old HOH basket and pulls out the letter. He rips open the envelope and unfolds the sheet of paper, gesturing down at the referred-to line as he crouches in front of his pseudo friend.

Cartman quickly reads the line over, his eyes glistening as he voices his approval, "Oh this is perfect, Kiel. With Stan on our side, that money is as good as ours!"

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

Kahl is such a wuss. He's so afraid of losing friends here that he's too scared to get blood on his hands. Well, Kiel may be a pussy, but there's no way Eric Cartman is. And now that I know at least one person in that jury house is rooting for me, it's time for me to go out there and make the move that everyone's too afraid to make. Respect my authoritah!

…

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

I'm so nervous this week. I don't think I've ever been this nervous for nominations this whole game, but it's getting down to the wire and there's only five possible people that Cartman can nominate. I'm hoping that since I spared him when I was HOH, he'll do the same for me, but I'm not stupid. I know Cartman is a selfish person, so there's a good chance that I'll be making my first appearance on the block this afternoon.

…

Wendy sighs as she arrives at the dining room table, the room lit up by nothing but the natural light from the window. She plops down in her seat next to Bebe, making awkward eye contact with the residence's redhead as she does so, Kyle looking equally nervous in his seat across the table. Wendy turns to Bebe, the blonde mouthing 'good luck' as Cartman wobbles over to the dining table, his grin almost as big as his stomach. Beside Wendy, Tweek is shaking in his seat, not wanting to make eye contact in fear that he may vomit.

"Alright, everyone. It's time for the best part of my job as HOH: the nominations," Cartman announces, puffing out his chest as he turns to his fellow housemates, "We're getting closer to the end, and although I couldn't nominate everyone I wanted, I just want all of you to know that you're all worthy competitors in my book…except for Tweek," Cartman quickly adds, raising his eyebrows with a smirk. Cartman looks slightly to the right to find Craig glaring daggers at him; Cartman smiles even widener, "Anyway, before I announce whose lives are officially over, is there anything any of you would like to say to the grand and glorious HOH?"

Cartman eagerly turns to the crowd, but the house is silent, other than a lone cricket chirping on the windowsill. Cartman narrows his eyes at the insect, who stops chirping immediately at his glare. "Okay then. This week, I nominate the lovebirds, Tweek and Craig," he announces, the rest of the house audibly gasping at his announcement and turning to the couple. Craig is sitting upright in his seat with his arms crossed, looking like he is about to leap over the table and kill Cartman, while Tweek looks like he is about to cry in the next five seconds as he sits hunched over the surface. "Honeymoon's over, fellas," Cartman coos, "It's time for a battle to the death!"

…

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

The Kyle and Wendy thing could be over by the end of the week, but Tweek and Craig will be together 'til the end of time. And because of that, they're always going to be a threat in this house as long as I'm concerned. And I'm here to take out the threats cause I want to win the money. God knows I deserve it!

…

Tweek Tweak
Puts the "P" in Paranoid

Personally, I think it's both sad and amusing that everyone in the house is threatened by the two of us because Craig and I really only voted together once, so how much power could we have?

…

Craig Tucker
Aggressive Tweeksexual

Well, Cartman did exactly what I thought he was going to do, and I think he may have doomed himself in the process. Cause guess what? He can only get rid of one of us this week. Whoever survives is going to be out for blood, and there's nothing scarier than a vengeful Tweek. (smirks)

Chapter Text

Tweek is in the girls room, running his fingers through his tangled blonde locks as he paces wildly in front of his cool-as-ice boyfriend, the blow that Cartman delivered at the nomination ceremony still fresh in their minds. Craig gazes up at Tweek, his eyes laced with empathy as he continues to sit calmly on their makeshift double bed.

Finally, after a few moments of watching his panicked pacing, Craig sighs, "Tweek, we knew this would happen eventually," Craig states into the near silence, his words heavy but sincere, "We're just going to have to accept it. I'll bow out and-"

"No!" Tweek shrieks, the mere volume of his voice causing Craig to abruptly sit upright, "I don't want to be in this house if you're not here."

Craig shakes his head, still as collective as ever, "Don't talk like that. You and I both know that you care about this game a hell of a lot more than I do. Me leaving is what's best for you."

Tweek stops in place, tearing up as he gazes hopelessly down at his love, "Craig…" he sniffles.

"I mean it, Tweek," Craig says firmly, hoping to ingrain this into his mind, "You can do this on your own. You don't need me. Besides, you won't be by yourself. You have friends here; almost everyone loves you," Tweek sighs and plops down beside Craig on the bed. Craig places a comforting hand on his shoulder, gazing lovingly into his boyfriend's eyes, "Babe, you're the only thing to me that's good in this house, and you know I'm perfectly content with leaving this place tomorrow and never seeing any of these people again."

Tweek sniffs, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, "But I don't want you to go…" he squeaks, his tone heartbreakingly meek.

"I know," Craig nods, the room as dreary as he feels, "I don't want to leave you either, but trust me, this is the right decision, honey." The pair sit side by side, letting the solemn silence wash over them. Craig pulls Tweek into his side and kisses his cheek before enveloping the blonde in a tight embrace.

…

Eric Cartman
Heartless Psychopath

Ever since I put Tweek and Craig on the block, I've been poking the bear a bit to make sure Craig is the one who gets evicted on Friday. Usually, the best way to tick Craig off is to take jabs at his boyfriend. Did you see him at the nomination ceremony yesterday? He almost punched me in the face for insulting his little spaz. I just gotta make sure both of those bitches see how unstable he is, so they vote to can him tomorrow. But honestly, if you ask me, Craig deserves to go. I mean, what kind of player gives up safety for a guy who's probably going to be out next week?

…

"It's all going according to plan, Kahl," Cartman coos, tapping his fingertips together deviously as he sits in his infamous scheming chair in the center of the HOH room, "Craig and Tweek are on the block, Craig will get evicted tomorrow, and Tweek will break down crying like a little girl. Man, I really am a genius," Cartman awes, giving a satisfied smile.

In front of him, Kyle sits on the edge of the bed, his face filled with doubt. "I don't know, Cartman. I'm not entirely convinced that voting Craig out is the way to go. I mean, remember the week Tweek and Craig were broken up?" he reminds him, Cartman raising an eyebrow at this counterargument, "Craig was an emotional wreck and he was super clingy. It's like he couldn't function without Tweek with him. And I don't think it's a stretch to think that the same thing could happen again if we get rid of Tweek."

"Kahl," Cartman sighs, rolling his eyes up at the ceiling with a huff, "you saw what happened when Craig tries. If we keep him here, he'd be a challenge beast. We're halfway through this competition and we're in power, the last thing we need is him waking up and steamrolling to the finish line. Trust me, Kiel," Cartman coos through his teeth, "getting Craig out this week is the way to go. We're going to have plenty of opportunities to get Tweek out before the finals since he can't win for shit. And if we get out the couple, then they'll be forced to vote for one of us at the end. Cause right now, they're a lock to vote for each other, and that doesn't help us if we want to win."

Kyle sits in silence, his eyes trailing to the floor as he thinks this over. After a brief moment of quiet contemplation, the redhead sighs. "You're right," Kyle admits, feeling surprisingly numb as he says these words, "We got to get them out while we still have the chance."

…

Tweek Tweak
Extreme Craig Addict/Sad Boi

I know Craig wants to take this bullet and get evicted tomorrow to keep me here, but he's done so much for me over the course of our relationship that I can't let him do that. For ten years, Craig has always put me first in his life, the least I can do now is stand down for him.

…

Tweek and Wendy are standing in the storage room in the midst of their weekly pow wow, both of them appearing equally stressed by the nominations. Tweek sighs and turns towards his friend and fellow alliance member, preparing to deliver the most shocking blow of the game so far, "Wendy, I want you to vote me out tomorrow."

"What?"

Tweek turns away from her, pacing towards the closed door and releasing a heavy exhale in the process, Wendy following closely behind, like a lost puppy, "I have to do this. I have to protect Craig…you knew my allegiance was always with him first. This is bigger than the game."

Wendy stops in place and sighs, seeing the utter defeat and devastation spread across her fellow housemate's face. "I know, but come on Tweek, you know Craig wouldn't want you to do this."

"He'll forgive me once he realizes that this is the best option," he states simply.

Wendy sighs once more, arms loosely crossed. She shifts her heels and stares down at the carpet. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" she wonders, "You have just as good of a chance as any one of us here."

"Wendy, I mean it," Tweek states, the blonde near tears as he locks eyes with her, "Tomorrow you and Bebe have to vote for me. Promise me you'll do that, as my friend."

Wendy sniffs, hesitation in her voice, "Oh, Tweek," she squeaks.

Tweek sighs, "Look, I know we made a promise on day six that we would protect each other as long as we could in this game, but you know I can't survive here without him. Craig is my ride or die, and that's why I'm laying down my sword to protect him."

Wendy nods, tearing up at this declaration, "But I don't want you to go."

Tweek sniffs as a wave of déjà vu washes over him, "I know, but I mean it, Wendy. You two have to vote for me. Promise me that when you go to cast your vote tomorrow, you'll say my name."

Wendy gazes up at her friend. Her heart is begging her not to let him do this, but deep down she knows that Tweek isn't going to change his mind. Wendy softly nods, wiping her nose against her knuckle as she stares tearfully up at him, "I promise."

Tweek steps forward and pulls Wendy into an embrace, the pair holding onto each other for dear life. A single tear falls down Tweek's cheek as the young woman cries into his shoulder, their sadness echoing throughout the storage closet.

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist/Good Friend

Right now, if Kyle doesn't vote with us, the vote would be 2-1, so we have the numbers to save him. The problem is Tweek doesn't want us to. And if that's what he wants, then I'm not going to stand in his way. I'll keep my promise and vote to evict him, no matter how much I may not want to. (sniffs)

…

That night, Wendy beckons a bemused Bebe into the lantern-lit storage closet, their dark shadows lathered across the wall as the pair privately discuss the upcoming vote and eviction. "I feel bad for saying this, but selfishly, I want to keep Tweek," Bebe confesses, her blue eyes shining as she stares across at her best friend.

"Me too," Wendy agrees, a small wave of anxiety washing over her as she says these words, "but he made me promise that I'd vote him out tomorrow."

"That's okay. As long as we get Kyle to vote for Craig with me, you won't have to break your promise."

"Yeah, except I promised Tweek that the both of us wouldn't vote for him."

"What?! That's crazy!" Bebe shrieks, her face contorting at the response, "He saved us last week; we save him this week. It's the least we can do."

Wendy perches her hands on her hips and sighs, "But he doesn't want us to save him, Bebe. He says protecting Craig is his number one priority. Craig is his ride or die," she states with a purpose, "He'd rather sacrifice his entire game than have him voted out tomorrow."

Bebe's eyes trail to the floor as she softly pinches the bridge of her nose. She sighs, "Craig won't work with us, Wendy," Bebe speaks into the silence, "And if we want any chance of taking out Kyle and Cartman, we're going to need a united front. We need Tweek. He's a great alliance member: he's smart, he's loyal, and he keeps his mouth shut."

"I know!" Wendy cries, throwing her arms out, "But I can't go behind his back like this. If I spring this on him and vote out Craig, he'll never forgive me. I gave him my word," she reminds her, the intensity in the room growing with each passing second, "And if I don't have that, I'm nothing in this game and no one will ever trust me again."

"Just imagine how difficult Craig is going to be without Tweek, Wendy," Bebe replies, hoping to instill the reality of this scenario into her best friend's mind, "We can barely get him to do anything now. Do you really think he's going to have some kind of breakthrough after Tweek is gone?" she asks; Wendy stares down at the floor and sighs, "Yeah, Tweek will probably be depressed after Craig gets voted out, but we can rely on him. We know that. He's our friend."

"And as our friend, I have to keep my promise to him," Wendy says, her expression firm and unwavering as she locks eyes with the blonde, "I said we were going to vote him out, and that's what we have to do."

"This is a mistake. This is a five-hundred-thousand-dollar mistake, Wendy!" Bebe practically hisses through her teeth, "This could cost us the money!"

"I know, but I can't do that to a friend…especially not him," Wendy squeaks, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. The pair stand in silence for a moment, the tenseness of the situation looming over them. After a moment, Wendy sighs and gazes up at Bebe, "Bebe, no matter what happens in the next twenty-four hours, please promise me that we'll vote together."

Bebe releases a heavy sigh as she stares down at the ground, her arms loosely folded over her torso. Finally, after what feels like forever to her bestie, she looks up at Wendy and crosses her hand over her heart. "Alright, Wendy. I promise."

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

Tweek is a great alliance member and an excellent friend. I thought after he got nominated, that it was going to be a lock to save him, but that idiot Cartman had to go and put him up against Craig. The problem with keeping Craig over Tweek is that Craig is going to do whatever the hell he wants to do, which isn't great for my game.

…

Tweek Tweak
Sacrificial Lamb/Craig Lover

Tonight is my last night in the house, so I may as well spend it like I do every night: crying over my impending doom. (attempts to force a smile)

…

Eric Cartman
Evil Personified

Look, I know for sure that Craig is the one going home tomorrow, but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun messing with Tweek's emotions before his little boyfriend goes.

…

Cartman peeks into the hallway, a clandestine smirk spreading across the fatass' face as he spies the residence's twitchy blonde sitting alone at the end of the hall. Cartman slowly waddles over to him, Tweek barely lifting his head up from his place against the wall when the figure looms above him.

"Look Tweek," Cartman begins, the blonde looking like he's mourning a loss, "everyone knows that it's you who's going to be banished tomorrow, but I just wanna say that it's been really great and we're gonna miss you," Cartman states, putting on the best fake smile he can muster, his line rehearsed and robotic, "Here's a nice watch and some peanuts," he states, reaching behind his back and presenting the items to him.

Tweek stares down at the linoleum, looking positively miserable, not even bothering to grip the items in his palm, causing the watch and the peanuts to both fall to the floor with a clunk.

Cartman huffs, "Wow. Nice going, spaz!" he sarcastically snaps.

Tweek lifts his head up slightly as he watches Cartman exit, a hint of anger in his step. Tweek sighs.

Fifteen minutes later, Craig walks into the hallway, hoping to make his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth without witnessing any of his housemates' shenanigans. Craig stops when he finds Tweek crouched in the darkened corner, sadly eating the peanuts that Eric got him, the watch already slipping off his arm.

"Hey, babe," Craig greets once he arrives at the end of the hall, the Moon's light, reflected from the Sun, shining over them like a spotlight, "Uh, why are you depressingly eating peanuts in the hallway?"

Tweek sighs, his eyes glued to the floor, "I can't do it, Craig. I'm done. Go on without me."

Craig cocks his forehead inquisitively, "What are you talking about?"

"I can't go through with the plan. I can't do this. I'll just screw it all up and-" Tweek exhales, frustrated that he's having trouble even getting the proper words out, "-I can't let you give up your shot for me."

"Tweek, listen to me," Craig begins, kneeling in front of his partner. He gently grabs Tweek by the shoulders and tries to gaze into his eyes, but Tweek refuses to look up at him, "I'm not giving my chance up for a random housemate; I'm giving it up for the winner," he reveals. Tweek shoots his head up at this news, his eyes widening like dinner plates, "It's strategy, babe. I know I can't beat you and I'll never betray you, so I want you to take me out. Gather the votes and cut me. That's what good players do. And you are a good player. You are the best player," he states, gripping his shoulders, "You think I didn't know that going in? With you here, I knew I had no shot. And that's fine, cause I got what I wanted. I got to watch you grow and win this for yourself."

"Craig, please don't bullshit me on this. I need you to tell me the truth," Tweek states, the tears stinging in the corners of his eyes as he clasps onto Craig's forearms, "Do you honestly believe that? Do you honestly believe that out of all the talented, genius, Baywatch-attractive people in this house that I'm the winner?"

"Yes, I do," Craig answers firmly, without hesitation. Tweek releases a heavy sigh, shaking his head in disbelief as Craig gazes out at him, "Tweek, I knew the second we walked into this house that you were going to win this thing."

Tweek nose laughs. "Do you really think that I can outsmart Kyle? Or outplay Bebe? Or out-deceive Cartman? I can't even button my shirt correctly. This watch doesn't even fit me!" Tweek exclaims, dramatically holding his arm up in-point as the watch slides off his wrist.

"Those things don't matter," Craig tells him with a slight shake of his head, "Because that's not how you're going to win this thing, babe. You're going to win your way using your own strengths, not with anyone else's blueprint."

The pair lie still as a heavy silence washes over them, the atmosphere so tense that Tweek feels like he is going to choke. Tweek sniffs and wipes a few tears away with his fingers, "Come on Craig," he states solemnly to the floor, the blonde's voice barely above a whisper, "we both knew going into this that I never had a chance at the money."

Craig tilts his head, puzzled, "Why not?"

"Because my dad was right, okay?" Tweek cries, the heat rising up in his chest at this outburst, "I can't win this thing. I don't even deserve to be a part of the group. I'm not super tough like you or super smart like Token or super charming like Clyde or super funny like Jimmy. All I am is your boyfriend. Your freakish, twitchy boyfriend," Tweek sighs, "And that kind of person doesn't win this thing."

"First off, let me make this perfectly clear: your dad has never been right about anything," Craig retorts, quickly jumping in to dispute his claims, "And come on Tweek, you and I both know that you are so much more than that," he states, giving his boyfriend a comforting shoulder rub as Tweek stares at the floor, "And so what if you're not the best at any of those things? Because let me tell you, babe, none of us – myself included – would have a chance at winning this thing. We're too one-dimensional…but you? You have a little bit of everything. And that's why no one else is even going to have a shot."

Tweek sniffs, tearing up as he locks eyes with his love, "You can't possibly believe that," he squeaks.

"I do," Craig nods, looking like he's never been surer of something in his life while Tweek leans forward and hugs his knees to his chest, "And maybe someday, you will too."

Craig Tucker
World's Greatest Boyfriend

Tweek is sweet and caring, and everyone just loves him. I love him. And it's sad that he's underestimating himself because I know he can do this without me. (pauses) And with that, Big Brother, I'm out. (smiles as he takes an overly-dramatic bow)

…

An hour later, Tweek is still sitting on the floor of the hallway feeling sorry for himself as he stares down at the ground. Craig pokes his head into the hall, surprised to find his boyfriend still sitting in the same spot like a lump. Craig leans back and sighs, his eyes shining in empathy as he walks over to him. "Come here," Craig states, stopping in front of Tweek and gesturing him forward, "I want to show you something."

"No thanks," Tweek mutters, barely lifting his head up, "I'd prefer to sit here and sob."

Craig reaches down and grabs Tweek's hand, nudging him upward. "Come on, babe. I promise it'll cheer you up."

Tweek cocks his forehead, a skeptical glint in his eyes. Finally, after much gentle nudging, Tweek gets up with a sigh and lets Craig lead him through the empty hallway. They pass by the bedrooms, both of which are dark, most of the houseguests having gone to bed a few hours prior.

Craig smiles as he slides open the back door, taking his boyfriend into the backyard by the hand. Suddenly, Craig quickly swerves Tweek around. The blonde squeaks as Craig grabs him from behind, ambling backwards the rest of the way to the surprise, Craig's arms gingerly holding onto Tweek's biceps. Craig stops in place when they arrive at the corner of the lawn, their backs to the present. He swiftly spins Tweek around by the shoulders and jumps in front of him, enthusiastically holding his hands out to the side in a game show-worthy presentation. "Ta-dah!"

Tweek cautiously opens his eyes only to find his boyfriend standing in front of a large oak tree. Tweek carefully steps forward and gazes at the base, his eyes widening at the newest addition: Craig has carved their initials into the center of the tree trunk and surrounded the letters with a heart. Tweek bursts into tears at the sight.

"Oh, Craig!" Tweek latches on like a magnet and hugs him, a touching sheen in his eyes as he nestles into his side. The couple tightly embrace, the funereal air picking up around them and hitting everything in view. They stand there for what feels like hours, not a single word spoken between them.

…

Two hours later, Craig is lying in bed holding his boyfriend, the twitchy blonde fast asleep and nuzzling his face into the raven's chest after a rather passionate romantic encounter. Craig smiles and breathes out, feeling the relaxed breath tickle his slightly-parted lips as he gazes down adoringly at his partner. Craig sighs, lovingly stroking Tweek's arm a few times while he stares up at the ceiling. After a few calming moments, he leans forward and places a delicate kiss on Tweek's forehead, before carefully slipping out of bed and detaching himself from Tweek. He scans the area and quickly tugs a pair of non-burnt pants on, sneaking out of the room without waking his love.

Craig tiptoes over to the boys' room and creaks the door open. The noirette sticks his head into the open doorway, locking eyes with Kyle, who has just woken up from the sound. The redhead groans and runs his fingers through his curly, red locks, suffering from a serious case of bedhead.

Craig gives him a curt nod as he approaches him, "Hey. We need to talk."

Five minutes later, Craig is sitting on Stan's old bed in the midst of a brief but informative game discussion. Kyle cocks his forehead from his bed across from him, baffled by what he just heard. "But I don't understand," Kyle speaks, a hint of shock in his tone as he blinks the tiredness away, "don't you want to win?"

Craig shrugs, "I've already beaten Stan. All of this is just extra for me."

…

Kyle Broflovski
Intellectual Know-it-all

Usually, when two people are up for nomination, the whole house has an idea of how the votes are going to shape up going in. But this week, there has been so much scrambling. It's like both Tweek and Craig are unknowingly trying to sacrifice their games for each other. Honestly, I could see this going either way tonight. It's exciting and unnerving at the same time.

…

That evening, all six of the remaining housemates are gathered in the living room, the atmosphere thick and hazy around them, everyone very on-edge about the event that is about to unfold. The two nominees – Craig and Tweek – are situated on the two lush lounge chairs, holding hands in the space between them. Craig is staring straight ahead, his expression flat and unreadable while Tweek looks positively miserable next to him. The rest of the houseguests are sitting on the surrounding sofas, dead silent as they await the arrival of the host. Unlike previous eviction ceremonies, the room is lit solely by the light from the windows and the dimly-lit lanterns which are interspersed on the carpet, the change courtesy of the power outage.

"Hello, everyone," Token speaks into the near silence. All of the houseguests immediately stare up at the loudspeaker, "and welcome to a rather spooky eviction ceremony. On this day, we remember your fellow evicted houseguests, like Clyde and Kenny and uh…oh yeah, Stan Marsh."

"Heh. More like Stan Darsh!" Cartman adds boastfully, next to Kyle.

Token rolls his eyes off-camera, "Right. And um…" Token stalls, snapping his fingers beside the microphone, the name completely escaping him.

"Butters," Tweek states.

"Ah, yes, Butters," Token replies, "that rambunctious little scamp," he laughs, causing everyone to stare at the loudspeaker bizarrely. Token awkwardly clears his throat at their pointed expressions. "Anyway, that's why it brings me immense sadness to inform you all that tonight, we are going to be having a double eviction."

"What?!" Kyle squeaks, clasping onto one of the sofa pillows.

Token chuckles and waves his hand down. "I'm just messing with you. I'm pretty sure if I did that, half the town would sue me. I'm just trying to lighten the mood here."

"By telling us that two of us are going home tonight?" Craig questions incredulously, clearly checked out from really giving a crap about his friend's antics a long time ago.

"Well, um…" Token stutters for a bit, before grabbing onto his microphone and readjusting it slightly, causing a horrifying, nails-on-a-chalkboard-like screech to blurt out from all the loudspeakers in the room. The houseguests cringe and cower at the outburst, swiftly covering their ears before they suffer any permanent hearing damage.

"As you know, today is eviction day," Token speaks, once the cacophony has dissipated, "One by one, I will call the three eligible voters into the diary room to cast their votes for eviction. Since we have an odd number, the HOH, Cartman, will not cast a vote this week," he adds, a covert smirk on his face, "As you can clearly see, both Craig and Tweek have been put up for nomination today. Before we vote, I'm going to give each half of the power couple one last chance to make their case to their fellow housemates as to why they should keep them. Tweek, why don't you go first?"

"Um, okay," Tweek squeaks, before timidly turning to his housemates, "Hi, everyone. This is my first time on the block, and I can honestly say that it sucks as much as all of you guys have told me it does," he says, a few of his fellow housemates cracking a smile at this joke, "But I'm not going to sit here and plead for you guys to keep me. I'm sure you've all made your decisions already and I respect whatever you decide to do tonight. Craig," Tweek pauses, turning to his boyfriend and affectionately squeezing his hand tight, "I love you so much, and it tears me up inside that we're going to be separated tonight," he sniffs, trying to keep the tears from forming in his eyes, "Also, you told me that if we ever got on the block together that I should tell everyone that you are a sex god. And that's true, Craig is a sex god," Tweek announces to the crowd with a small smirk. Next to him, Craig gives a leisurely but satisfied nod. "So, um, that's it," Tweek sheepishly adds, "Thank you, everybody."

"You're welcome, Tweek, and thank you for explaining the origin of Lord Sexington," Token's voice blares above him, startling the twitchy blonde slightly, "And since we all know Lord Sexington here is just going to pass his turn, let's get to the vote."

"Actually, Token," Craig interrupts, raising his finger in-point, "I do want to say something this time."

"Really?" Token squeaks. Craig nods, surprising the whole crowd around them, "Oh, um, alright. Go right ahead, Craig."

"Thank you," Craig states. He turns to the group of four and clears his throat lightly, "Hello, people. I don't really have much to say to you, so I'm just going to speak to Tweek," Craig shifts in his seat, turns, and gazes into his partner's eyes, squeezing Tweek's hand lovingly. "Honey, being here with you has been nothing short of incredible. Honestly, I never thought I could love you more than I did going in, and obviously, that was proven wrong rather quickly," he gently exhales, "Babe, I'll love you if you win, I'll love you if you get eliminated five minutes from now. I'm always going to love you. You and Stripe are all I care about, and that's all you need to know," he states, Tweek's eyes glistening with tears next to him, "Oh, and happy birthday, sweetheart," Craig adds, squeezing his hand again.

"Aww!" Wendy coos nearby at the speech's conclusion, bringing her hands together as she watches them.

"Okay. Nice going, Craig," Token states, not being sarcastic for once. "With that, it is time to vote. Kyle, why don't you get us started?"

Kyle nods and stands up from his seat. Tweek watches as he makes his way to the diary room, the big bubble of anxiety in Tweek's stomach feeling like it's going to pop at any second. Even Craig is nervously tapping his foot as he watches each houseguest cast their vote. After a few moments, Kyle returns and takes his seat back on the sofa.

"Alright, Bebe. You're up," Token announces.

Bebe nods as she passes by the nominees, her stance firm and confident. Once she comes back, Tweek desperately tries to match her eyeline, but Bebe refuses to look at him and instead turns to her best friend, giving Wendy a discreet nod as she folds her legs on the sofa.

"Wendy, you're last," Token declares to the distressed, raven-haired woman. Wendy nods, giving a small sniff as she makes her way to the diary room, and swings the door open.

Wendy plops down on the leather sofa and runs her fingers through her hair, her mind going a mile a minute as she struggles with the greatest dilemma she has faced so far. "Oh my God," she trembles, anxiously nibbling on her fingernails as she stares down at the carpet, "What am I supposed to do? He's going to hate me either way…"

Five long minutes later, Wendy emerges from the diary room, looking like she just found out her childhood pet had gotten rolled over by a truck. Wendy passes by Bebe, the pair exchanging knowing glances as Wendy plops back down beside her on the living room sofa, vexatiously chewing on the bottom of her lip while she awaits the results.

"Alright," Token says with a sigh, "The votes are in. Once I reveal the results of the vote, the evicted houseguest will have one minute to collect their things, say their goodbyes, and walk out the front door," Token dramatically pauses. The two nominees hold their breaths, Tweek death-gripping Craig's hand in fearful anticipation. "By a unanimous vote of 3-0, Craig…you've been evicted from the Big Brother house."

Token's announcement causes a multitude of responses. Craig nods in understanding as he stands up from his seat, taking it in stride, his partner bursting into tears as soon as he hears these words. Wendy's and Bebe's eyes are glued to the carpet, both equally ashamed of what they've done while Cartman stands near one of the legs of the sofa, a covert smirk spread across his face and his arms crossed as he mentally high-fives himself for a job well done. Craig looks over to Kyle and gives a curt nod, a glint of appreciation in the noirette's eyes, before he turns to Tweek, the blonde still utterly stupefied by the eviction. "Can you walk me out?" he whispers.

Tweek says nothing and nods, tears streaming down his cheeks as Craig grabs him by the hand. The pair walk in silence to the front door, the rest of the houseguests awkwardly trailing behind them but respectfully keeping their distance.

The couple sighs as they reach the front door, Craig briefly letting go of Tweek's hand on the way to grab his duffel bag. Tweek watches through cloudy eyes as Craig swings the strap around his shoulder. Tweek cries at the doorway, so distraught that he is barely able to get a sentence out as he turns to face his love, "I-I don't understand, I told them to vote for me."

"I know," Craig replies, placing two comforting hands on his shoulders as he gazes into Tweek's eyes, "And I told them this afternoon to switch back, five minutes before Token called us in here," he reveals with a sigh, "You had the votes to protect yourself, but you tried to save me," he gushes, the noirette visibly touched, "I love you so much, babe, and that's why I have to do this for you," Craig states, holding back tears himself, speaking with a vulnerability only reserved for Tweek, "I hope someday you can forgive me, but you've worked too hard to give this all up for me. We told ourselves coming into this that we were going to try our best to make sure that one of us makes it to the end. I know when we made this promise, you thought that it would be me, but I knew on day one that I would have to eventually step aside, so you could win this for yourself. You are so strong, Tweek," Craig says definitively, "And now you're going to prove it."

Tweek sniffs, fresh tears budding in his eyes. "I can't do this without you," he whispers.

"Yes, you can. I know you can. I would've never even thought to do this, let alone actually done it, if I didn't believe that this was true. You can do this, Tweek. You can win," Craig tells him, squeezing his shoulders, "And now that I'm gone, there'll be nothing holding you back," he says, his eyes shining with familiar promise.

Tweek bursts into tears as Craig hugs him, finding a tiny bit of comfort in his boyfriend's warm embrace. Craig kisses the blonde a few times before pulling back to gaze into Tweek's eyes, neither one of them wanting to let go of each other. Behind them, Wendy and Bebe are standing by the end table, somberly watching the goodbye.

"Here," Craig states, reaching up to his head and pulling off his hat. He places it securely on the hyperventilating blonde, Tweek almost speechless by the gesture.

"But-but you love your hat," Tweek squeaks, staring up at Craig with puppy eyes.

"I know, but I love you more," Craig grins, like it's the most obvious thing in the universe, "And now you'll always have a part of me with you," he beams as he scans the area, his hair exposed for the first time that day, "God, was the air always this cold?"

Tweek sniffles, unbelievably touched by his boyfriend's selfless kindness. He clasps his arms around Craig and starts bawling all over again as he hugs him goodbye.

"I love you, babe. I meant everything I said last night…every word," Craig whispers in his ear as he returns the loving embrace, "Except that part about bean chili being superior to all-beef chili, that was a lie," he jokes, "But everything else was true. Stay strong. I know you can do this."

Tweek sobs again and tightens his grip on Craig as he throws his head down into his chest. Craig looks down at Tweek dishearteningly, patting his hair affectionately a few times, before reluctantly pulling away slightly at the sound of Token's voice.

"Um, I hate to be a buzzkill, guys, but Craig, you have to leave the house now," Token butts in.

"Alright," Craig states with a sigh, "Come on, honey," he says, patting Tweek gently on the back twice before gingerly pulling away from him. Craig turns to Tweek, holding him gently by the forearms as he gazes up at him, eyes shining. Craig is trying to hold back tears himself in the hopes of staying strong for his boyfriend. "I love you, Tweek. Remember what I said. You'll be fine without me. You're a strong man."

Craig walks forward and grabs the doorknob as Wendy and Bebe come up behind the devastated Tweek to offer comfort. Wendy wraps her arm around the twitchy blonde as the tears continue streaming down his face.

"No, I'm not," Tweek whispers as Craig makes one final wave before he departs.

Craig turns to the house, giving a slight smirk as he flashes his signature gesture. "Fuck you, guys!" he shouts, flipping one final bird before exiting out the doorway. Craig pauses right before the door closes behind him, "Not you, babe. I love you!" he cries as the door shuts behind him.

Nearby, Cartman is standing a few feet away from the trio, a furtive smirk on his face as he watches Wendy and Bebe's meager attempts to console a crumbled, defeated Tweek. The fatass turns to Kyle and mouths, 'Told you', now sporting the biggest smile he has all season, his plan having been executed to perfection.

…

Craig Tucker
World's Greatest Boyfriend

Week 1, one hour before the first eviction ceremony, the votes were 6-1 against me – even Clyde was on the fence about going against the group. Tweek calculated out every possible outcome, talked to all the potential flippers individually – two of whom are still in this house – and secured those last three votes ten minutes before the eviction ceremony because he wanted to be 100% sure that no one would flip and sabotage his plan to save me at the last second. That should show you how dangerous my boy really is. – Those idiots just made a $500,000 mistake. (smirks)

…

Five minutes later, after all but one person has left the front hallway, Tweek is kneeling in front of the closed front door, burying his head in his hands as he continues to mourn the departure of his beloved Craig, the homosexual. Cartman walks up behind Tweek, brushing his hands off, a smug smile plastered across his big, ugly face as he stares down at Craig's devastated boy toy, "Well, that takes care of that. – Oh, and happy birthday, spaz," he adds with a final twist of the knife, before swerving on his heel and sashaying out of sight.

Tweek sits in silence for a moment before pulling himself up with a sigh. He wanders down the front hall, lost and alone in the dark, the situation mirroring how he is feeling. Suddenly, Tweek looks up, finding himself standing in front of the Memory Wall. Tweek stares up at the four photos of the evicted houseguests – all of which have been digitally grayed out seconds after their departure. Tweek deeply sighs as he gazes up at the photo of Craig, which is sitting beside his own. In a cruel twist of fate, the photo dramatically fades to grayscale the second his eyes land on it.

"I know you believe in me," Tweek sniffs, his voice small and drained as he talks to the person in the photo, "but this seems hopeless. You made a mistake giving this up for me."

Tweek's ears perk up slightly from beneath Craig's chullo, a soft buzzing sound echoing through the premises. He looks up in astonishment as the lights flicker on above him, illuminating every inch of the residence, the appliances reverberating with life from the kitchen. Tweek steps back in silence, stunned to speechlessness as he walks over to the girls room, mulling over what just happened.

Tweek steps into the room, which has been decked out in homemade decorations and pastel pink streamers. Tweek stops in place as he locks eyes with Bebe and Wendy, who are dressed in party hats and holding a candlelit cake.

"Surprise," Wendy states softly as to not scare their skittish friend, "Happy birthday, Tweek."

Bebe bashfully takes a step forward behind her, "We, uh, begged Token for a cake," she smiles.

Tweek nods, calm but touched by the low-key surprise party that the girls have put together for him. "Thanks, you guys."

Tweek stumbles forward, still on the verge of tears after losing his best friend. The girls set the cake down before pulling him into a hug. Tweek sniffs and leans into the embrace, all the pent-up emotions he was burying deep inside himself toppling over like an avalanche as he cries for his fallen love in their comforting arms.

Chapter Text

"By a unanimous vote of 3-0, Craig…you've been evicted from the Big Brother house," Token announces over the loudspeaker to the housemates. Craig nods from his nomination chair and accepts his fate while Tweek instantly bursts into tears at the news next to him, the blonde taken completely off-guard. Around them, all of their fellow housemates are sporting somber expressions, minus Cartman, who is eating this up like it's the taco buffet at Casa Bonita.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Intellectual Know-it-all

Craig is a tough competitor. He's very strong-minded and determined, and that makes him a real threat in this game. That's why today, I vote to evict Craig.

…

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

I know Wendy made a promise to Tweek that I would vote to evict him, but this is an individual game. At the end of the day, I have to do what's best for myself, so I vote to evict Craig.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

Tweek, you're going to hate me forever, but Craig told me to do this, and I know he always has your best interests at heart. So even though it pains me to betray you like this by going back on my word, I vote to evict Craig.

…

Craig smiles, his hands on Tweek's shoulders as he gazes lovingly into his eyes, "You are so strong, Tweek," Craig declares, delivering his most inspiring line of the night, "And now you're going to prove it."

The mini-recap jumps ahead to Cartman brushing his hands off while Tweek lies in a huddled mess by the door, following Craig's departure, a feeling of utter hopelessness washing over the blonde. "Well, that takes care of that," Cartman coos, before sauntering down the hallway.

…

Eric Cartman
Evil Personified

Well, as always, my plan worked perfectly. I nominated the couple and exploited Craig's weakness by pretending that Tweek was the target. And Craig, being the protective bitch that he is, went and laid on the train tracks for his little love. Goddammit, Craig. Have a little dignity! This is Big Brother not America's Tooliest Boyfriend. Tweek's not gonna be able to sleep with you when you're gone! And now that we've stripped him of his beloved Craig, the spaz is weak. It's great to be king. (smirks)

…

Early the next morning, Tweek is lying down on the makeshift double bed that he assembled with boyfriend day one, staring up at the ceiling, his expression pensive and dejected. Tweek sighs as he reluctantly pulls himself up from the mattress, Craig's chullo still nestled on his head. He clasps his wrist with his hand and stares forlornly down at the carpet, so exhausted from the emotional turmoil of yesterday that he feels numb. Tweek sniffs, his nose torrid. He moves his hands up and gently runs his fingers under the corner of his eye, completely out of tears to cry.

…

Tweek Tweak
Emotional Wreck/Craigless Wonder

I want them to think I'm down. I want them to think that I've given up…cause then they'll get careless and they'll underestimate me…and they'll keep me around. (sighs) But honestly, this day has been hell, and I know I shouldn't internalize things, but sometimes I think it's the only way for me to keep myself from going crazy. Someday, I hope I can use all these frustrations as motivation for me to power through this, but right now, all they're doing is bringing me down.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

Craig is gone, which turned out to be a worse thing than we thought it would be because this house is falling apart without him. I guess it makes sense that if you take out both the voice of reason and the somewhat stable person in the house and just leave the weirdos, the whole structure crumbles. But the main problem is Cartman. You see, it turns out Cartman was only afraid of one person here, and that person walked out the door last night, so now he's ten times more awful to everyone.

…

Later that morning, Wendy and Bebe are sitting at the kitchen island, discussing their plans for the day when Cartman waddles over, a sinister look spread across his face. The girls drop their spoons as Cartman stops in front of them, staring down at the pair like they're dirt on the bottom of his shoe. "Well, hello, ladies…and Bebe," Cartman adds with a smirk, "What are yew guys up to? You gonna go to the mall or exchange tampons or whatever the hell it is girls do?"

Wendy rubs her aching forehead and sighs before addressing the fatass, "You really don't know anything about girls, do you?"

"I know enough; I dated Heidi!" Cartman exclaims in point, "Although, she was more of a Loch Ness monster than a girlfriend…"

"Cartman, everything you just said in the last minute was highly offensive," Bebe states, the disdain for him apparent in her tone.

"Geez! Lighten up, yew guys. God, it's clear someone is on their period!" Cartman declares with a huff, before swerving on his heel and stomping off towards the hallway, "Kahl, can you believe these bitches?" he shouts as he departs, causing Wendy to avert her gaze and give her head a shake.

"I swear we gotta win HOH this week. I don't care which one of us three wins it; I just want him out," Wendy mutters, picking at her oatmeal with her spoon. Bebe nods.

…

Meanwhile, in the boys room, Kyle is sorting through a few of his belongings on the dresser, when he accidentally drops the stack of letters on the floor. "Damn it!" Kyle cries, one of the envelopes cracking open slightly and spewing out a small metallic object, which lands on the floor with a clunk. Kyle crouches down to retrieve it, his stomach instantly sinking when he recognizes the piece of jewelry. He sets it into his hand and turns the ring over in his palm while grabbing the letter from Dee in his other one. Kyle steps back as a hodgepodge of emotions wash over him, feeling too weak to move.

All of a sudden, Kyle's eyes narrow as he spies Tweek walking past the open door. "Tweek, wait! Can you come here for a second?" Kyle calls out, before his brain can even register what he's doing.

Tweek stops in the doorway and shrugs, his cheeks still stained with tears. "I guess."

"Great. I, uh, I need to ask you a favor. Can you, um, read this for me?" Kyle asks, his voice cracking a bit as he meagerly holds Douchebag's letter up.

Tweek cocks his forehead at the redhead, "Well, normally, I would say no cause strange letters freak me out, but honestly, I'm so emotionally numb right now I think I could handle it, so why not?"

Kyle watches with bated breath as Tweek takes the letter, unfolds it, and starts reading through its content, the troubled Jew feeling like he is going to pass out at any moment. Finally, upon its completion, Tweek looks up, his expression surprisingly gentle.

"It's over, isn't it?" Kyle speaks into the silence, scared to hear the answer.

"You should just read it, Kyle," Tweek states, voice unwavering.

Kyle immediately shakes his head at the thought, "I don't think I'm ready."

Tweek nods, delicately placing the folded letter in his palm, "Well, you should read that the second you are."

Kyle nods in silent acknowledgement as he stares down at the creased paper in his arms. "Alright."

Tweek ambles back and turns towards the door, his stance meek and broken. "Tweek, wait!" Kyle calls out, the twitchy blonde freezes in his tracks at the outburst. "I, uh, I'm sorry," Kyle states sincerely, feeling the urge to apologize, even though he's not sure it was really his fault. Tweek turns back towards Kyle, his face unreadable, the uncertainty causing the redhead to word vomit, "You know, for what happened to Craig," Kyle elaborates, nervously playing with his fingers, "That really sucks."

Tweek stares down at the carpet, carefully going through all the words in his head before he says something he may regret. "Kyle, it's a game. I get it," he states firmly, trying his best to seem as sincere as possible. Kyle watches as Tweek turns to the doorway and exits out of sight.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Intellectual Know-it-all

This week has been super weird for me. I don't know why, but all of a sudden I find myself feeling kinda guilty about the moves I've made here. Maybe it's because I'm emotionally vulnerable, or maybe it's because the vote offs are getting harder the further we get into this, cause I know I'm crushing someone's dreams. But if I want to win this thing, I have to make sure I keep my personal feelings and my game strategy separate and stay laser-focused, cause one wrong move could cost me everything.

…

Tweek Tweak
Emotional Wreck/Craigless Wonder

Well, in case you haven't heard, Craig was voted out last night, and I was the only one who was actually blindsided by it, so I guess this is how my villain backstory begins. (smiles slightly, giving a small nose laugh) – Sorry, Craig told me to say that. (pauses and nods sternly) But I'm not going to give up. I will get my revenge on Cartman, even if it's the last thing I do. And considering who I'm going up against, it probably will be.

…

An hour later, Tweek is sitting in the girls room, his anxiety at an all-time high as he hugs himself in a fetal position on the mattress. The numbness has washed away and left him a nervous wreck, his verbal ticks becoming worse and worse as the afternoon approaches. Tweek turns to the camera, hoping to find something to calm his nerves, "I – ack! – haven't slept a wink since Craig left," Tweek speaks into the lens, attempting to be energetic while he shares this news as he holds his shivering body, visible bags under his eyes, "And my twitching started up again. Ngh! Old school Tweek is back!" he exclaims, struggling to hold his hand in a steady thumbs-up.

A few minutes later, Wendy is standing in the doorway, watching as Tweek despondently struggles to button his shirt up correctly, a massive twitch sabotaging his progress. Wendy's expression softens, looking positively heartbroken for her friend, who can't even grip the buttons. Wendy pushes herself off the door frame and quickly sprints over to help him.

"Thanks, Wendy," Tweek squeaks, wiping a single tear away from his eye as she smooths out his shirt.

Wendy smiles as she does up the final button. "No problem," she says, before plopping down on the bed next to him. The pair sit in silence and stare at the empty wall. Wendy exhales, wanting to comfort her friend, but unsure if her actions are only making things worse. "So, um, how are you doing?" she asks.

"Awful," Tweek replies, jumping in almost immediately, "My anxiety is through the roof, and I miss Craig so much. I guess it really is true, you never know how much you miss someone until they get voted out of the house," Tweek quips.

Wendy nods, giving a small chuckle at the playful jab. "Well, what do you usually do to calm your anxiety when Craig's not around?"

Wendy watches curiously as Tweek thinks this over for a moment, before sticking his hand into his jeans pocket and pulling out a fidget spinner. He takes it and shakily places it on his index finger. Tweek flicks the device and blankly watches it spin, the messy, pink blob seemingly melting into the carpet.

"Yeah…I think you're going to need a better outlet than that…" Wendy states, the rapid movement causing her stomach to churn. "Did you eat anything today?" Tweek looks up and sheepishly shakes his head, "Then let's start with that. I think we have some Hot Pockets."

Tweek cringes slightly as a shadow hovers over them, "No, thanks. I'm not a huge fan of Hot Pockets; I prefer sausage."

Bebe laughs from the doorway, an authentic smile shining on her face as she stares down at her friends. "God, you are so gay."

…

Tweek Tweak
Big Ball of Anxiety/Super Gay

I really like Wendy and Bebe. They're both sane and entertaining without being scary, which is part of the reason why I formed an alliance with them Week 1. It was a pretty well-kept secret, and I only had two conditions for it going in: I told them I would never vote for Craig, and that if Craig and I were to ever be put up against each other, they should follow whatever decision Craig and I came to about it. I went up to the girls two days ago and told them to vote for me, but apparently Craig approached them minutes before the eviction ceremony because I really thought I was going home yesterday. And now that I'm still here, I feel more lost than ever.

I feel like I should be able to trust my alliance, even though they technically betrayed me, but if this game has taught me anything, it's that the only person you can really trust is yourself. So I gotta pull myself up and out of this rut quick if I want any chance of surviving.

…

Five minutes later, Tweek is standing alone in the girls room, hovering over his duffel bag as he digs for something he hasn't taken for a few weeks. After some thorough scrounging, Tweek comes up with his anxiety medication in one hand and the Ripley's book in the other. He takes a few pills from the bottle and heads to the bathroom to take them, tossing the Ripley's book into the trashcan on his way out the door. He turns to the camera and flashes an electric thumbs-up, already feeling his stress level lowering a notch.

…

Early that afternoon, all five of the remaining houseguests are being herded into the backyard, courtesy of everyone's favorite rich token black kid. "Hey, Kyle," Wendy greets, smiling as she takes the spot to the right of him on the mat.

Kyle stares straight ahead, nervously fiddling with the silver necklace that he is wearing around his neck. "Oh, uh, hey," he states, his response delayed and distant.

Wendy looks at him strangely as she tries to deduce what the hell is up with him. Before she can open her mouth though, Token's voice blares over the loudspeaker, temporarily deterring her of all thought.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to this week's luxury competition!" Token beams as he stares down at the houseguests, who are lined up on the blue mat near the back wall, "This week, it's time for us to answer the age-old question: Is there anything Cartman won't eat?"

"AYE!" Cartman cries, fat and fuming.

"I'm just kidding," Token speaks, giving a small chuckle, "Today we're actually going to be doing something we surprisingly haven't done yet in the Big Brother house…and no, I'm not talking about Cartman, cause who in the right mind would subject themselves to that?"

"AYE!" Cartman outbursts, even more offended than before.

Token smiles, his face lighting up like he just won the lottery...as if he needed to, "Okay, that's the last one, I swear…well, until I come up with a better one," he adds, "Now, as of this morning, you guys have spent thirty-five days in this house. There's been plenty of laughs and plenty of cries. Plenty of houseguests who have eyes…" Token pauses slightly, reading over the words on his notecard. He clears his throat as the houseguests stare awkwardly up at him, "Excuse me for a second," Token states, cupping his hand over the microphone and quickly turning to the side to chew out his writer, "Really, Jimmy? That's what you came up with for today? Oh my God! It sounds like a really bad children's story!" he hisses under his breath.

"Dude, I on-only had two min-minutes to write this," Jimmy's voice buzzes in the background, "If you wan-want higher qua-quality, you're going to have to switch to the pre-premium pack-package for $19.95 a mon-mon-month," he tells him, the exchange causing a few of the houseguests to giggle.

Token sighs as he takes his hand off the microphone. He clears his throat once more and crumples up the notecard in his palm, "As I was saying, there have been plenty of houseguests who have come and gone and become official members of the Big Brother jury. And today, I'm going to test you on how well you know those members – Whoa, careful there, Token. That almost sounded wrong," Token scolds himself, Cartman raising an eyebrow at this add-in, "Anyway! This luxury competition will have three rounds. Round one will be basic questions about the five houseguests who have been evicted from the house. Round two is a 'who said it?' portion, where you will have to tell me which jury member said the given quote," he explains, pausing to take a breather, "The third and final round features questions that the jury members were asked about you guys, and you'll have to try to match the majority answer to get the points. Whoever has the most points at the end of the game wins this week's luxury competition. The winner will receive a thousand-dollar gift card that they can use to purchase a recreational item for the Big Brother backyard, so you guys won't be bored to death every waking moment here," Token says with a small smirk before clapping his hands together, "Are there any questions before we get started?"

"Yes," Cartman answers, surprisingly raising his hand for once, "Can we screw everyone over and just pocket the money ourselves?"

Token shrugs, "Yeah, sure, why not?" he replies, quickly turning his attention to another contestant who has their hand raised, "Yes, Kyle?"

"What exactly constitutes a 'recreational item'?" he wonders.

Cartman rolls his eyes next to him. "Oh my God, that is such a Kahl question!"

"Well, he is Kyle," Token states flatly, "And since I don't want to just shoot out a definition like Webster's, I'll just give you some examples of recreational items that are listed on the site. We have a volleyball kit, a giant inflatable pool flamingo, a trampoline…"

"Ooh! A trampoline!" Tweek chimes, joyfully clasping his hands together.

Cartman huffs and glares at the blonde. "We are not getting a fuckin' trampoline, spaz. Those things are for ten-year-olds!"

Tweek slumps his shoulders and sighs, the joy completely sucked out of him by the comment. Wendy reaches over and pats Tweek on the shoulder.

"So, if you're all ready, grab your stack of paper jury heads and line up on the mat," Token instructs, hoping to get on with the competition before he goes crazy, "After I ask the question, you all will have fifteen seconds to lock in your answers by finding the correct head and holding it up above you. For the final round, we will switch to the stack filled with the current houseguests' heads. – Man, this is such a weird competition," he mutters, watching as the contestants pick up their first stacks and actually do what they are told. Tweek flips through his stack of jury heads from his place at the end of the line. He smiles when he finds Craig's, leans down, and pecks his glossy, paper forehead.

An animated smile shines on Kyle's face as he comes across the Stan jury head in his arms. "Hey! This picture matches the picture of Stan I have in my pocket!" he exclaims. The rest of the houseguests and Token watch in curiosity as Kyle reaches into said pocket and takes out a mini photo of himself and his super best friend sitting on a sofa smiling, their arms around each other.

Bebe cocks her forehead, her perturbed expression matching the other housemates, "Why do you have a picture of Stan in your pocket?"

"What do you mean?" Kyle replies, "Don't all people carry a photo of themselves with their best friend?"

"I don't."

"Wait, you don't?" Wendy practically shrieks beside her, "Seriously, Bebe?!" the raven digs into her pocket of her classic lavender jacket and pulls out a photo of the two of them.

Bebe's eyes widen at the photo. "Oh my God. I feel like I'm living in Crazy Town," she mutters.

"Ahem, anyway, if you guys are done with your little picture parade, it's time to start round one of the competition," Token reminds them with a boisterous clear of his throat, "We'll begin with an easy one: Whose nickname was 'schmoopie' in high school?" he asks, a few of the houseguests cracking smiles at the question. Tweek laughs as he flips to his Clyde head. "Okay. Three…two…one…and reveal!" Token announces as the host gazes down at the houseguests, "And everyone got it right, minus Cartman, who put Craig for some reason."

Cartman turns to the loudspeaker and shrugs, "I thought it was a given since he was the only gay one."

"Ookay," Token chimes, not wanting to even touch that one, "Question two: Whose favorite game is Hello Kitty Island Adventure 2: Rise of the Gumdrop Fairy King?" Token asks, only waiting about five seconds for the answer to this question since it's so crystal clear. "And, as a surprise to no one, everyone got the question correct," he notes, staring down at the sea of Butters heads. "This brings us to the third and final question of round one: Who is the only member of the jury who has never had a serious relationship?"

Wendy and Bebe stop to think this one over while Kyle and Tweek immediately begin flipping through their stacks of heads. After a generous thirty seconds, Token looks down to the houseguests and asks them to reveal their answers. "Well, we have a wide variety of different answers here. Wendy and Bebe both went with their exes, which is a bit odd," Token narrates, "Kyle and Tweek said the safe answer of Kenny McCormick, and Cartman said Kyle, who isn't even an option for this round," Token states, the news causing the redhead to shoot a glare in the fatass' direction. "But, in this case, two of you are correct. It is the heartbreaker himself, Sir Kenny McCormick. That means at the end of the first round, Kyle and Tweek are tied for first place with three points, Wendy and Bebe are tied for second with two, and Cartman is currently in last place with a single, measly point."

Cartman crosses his forearms and sneers at the loudspeaker. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Yes. Quite," Token answers unabashedly, "It's now time for round two. For round two, I will say a quote that was spoken this season during a group event where all of you were present, and you must tell me which jury member said it," Token explains, gazing down to make sure none of the contestants appear lost by the explanation, "Our first quote is a classic: 'Did you just say you're ice cream?'"

Kyle pauses slightly before shifting through his jury heads, his gears turning as he cycles through the cards. Next to him, Cartman has already confidently locked in his answer while the girls and Tweek are carefully going through their cards.

"Alright. Who said it?" Token wonders, "I'll even give you this bonus fifteen-dollar gift card to McDonald's if you can tell me the context," Token's widens his eyes as Wendy's hand shoots up, "Yes, Wendy?" he states, waiting until all the houseguests have officially locked in their answers.

"It was Stan, and he was talking to Kenny, I think?" Wendy states, her confidence wavering as her sentence goes on. Beside her, Tweek quietly lifts his hand up.

"Wendy's correct, it was Stan who said the quote, but he was talking to Craig. That was right after Craig ripped Kenny's leg off and I tried to make him apologize, but instead of Craig saying he was sorry, he said he was sorbet," Tweek elaborates, giving a small grin at the day-one antics.

Token chuckles, "Ah, yes. Classic Craig," he coos, "Well, Wendy, Kyle, and Tweek got it correct, so now we move to the second quotation. Oh, but before we do that, here's your gift card," Token remembers, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the red piece of plastic. He chucks it from the roof of the house, nearly hitting Tweek in the process. Tweek squeaks and cowers at the impact. "Heh. Sorry," Token apologizes. Tweek slowly nods, before bending over and grabbing the gift card. He stuffs it in his jeans pocket, "Our second quote comes from Week 2 of the competition and reads: 'Can you move over a bit? I'm trying to watch this, so I can make sarcastic comments about it later,'" Token reads, lulling a tad to allow the houseguests to scrounge for their answers. "Alright. I see a sea of Craig heads, minus Cartman, who put Kenny," Token sighs and rubs his aching temples, "Cartman, you do know Kenny was voted out the week prior, right?" Cartman shrugs, "But the rest of you are correct, that sassy comment was given by the Sass Master himself, as we move to the final quotation of the round, and this one is a doozy," Token states, licking his lips in eager anticipation, "Who said: 'Oh, yeah, and I may have accidentally said that I like your ass because it's tight?'"

This one stumps several of the houseguests, but after a short minute, Token forces them to lock in their responses. "Okay, another tough one. I see Cartman went with the safe option by choosing the local horn dog, Kenny, Wendy and Bebe both went with Craig, most likely assuming that he was talking to Tweek when he made this comment," the girls nod, "But it looks like Kyle and Tweek both remembered that this line was actually said by Clyde, specifically to Craig, when Clyde was making his cringy public apology during Week 3's eviction ceremony," Token says, Cartman throwing his Kenny head in disgust. "At the end of round two, we have Kyle and Tweek in first place, both of whom haven't missed a single question, Wendy in second, Bebe in third, and Cartman in dead last. – Shocker," Token smirks, pausing to give the houseguests a breather.

"Alright. It's time for the third and, what I believe, most-challenging round of the competition. For this round, please reach down and grab your stack of housemate heads," Token instructs the group, waiting until they do so, "Now, here's how this works. This morning, I asked the jury members a series of questions about the players that are still in the house – meaning, well, you guys. Your job is to match what the majority of them said. To maintain confidentiality and relationships, I will not reveal who said what answer. Whichever one of you ends up with the most points by the end of this wins the luxury competition. And you're all still in it…well, except for Cartman, but I'll still let him participate just to laugh at his stupidity," Token beams.

"Token, I swear to God, you're the worst person I've ever met," Cartman rebukes, dramatically stomping his foot into the grass.

"I know," Token callously coos, "For the first question, who did the jury say is the worst tipper?" he asks, watching the houseguests pensively flip through their housemate heads. After a brief moment, the houseguests locks in their answers, "Okay. Everyone said Cartman, except for Cartman, who unsurprisingly put Kyle."

"Why? I'm not Jewish!" Cartman cries, immediately going on the defensive.

"Sorry, Cartman. That's what the jury said, and it looks like all your fellow houseguests agree," he adds, enjoying every second of this.

"What?!" Cartman snaps his head to the left and glares at his fellow houseguests, most of whom are flashing shit-eating grins as they proudly hold their Cartman heads above them, "Oh, goddammit!" Cartman heaves his Kyle head to the floor, crosses his arms, and pouts like a toddler.

Token laughs, his face almost hurting from exuberance. "This brings us to question two: Who did the jury say they would trust with their life?" he asks, the question causing a sea of ponderous looks to spread onto the houseguests' faces.

"This question actually resulted in a two-to-two tie, with one outlier. All you have to do to earn a point here is give me one of the two majority answers," Token calmly adds, waiting for the houseguests to hold up their chosen responses before revealing the results, "Okay, interesting. Wendy and Bebe both put Wendy, Kyle and Tweek put each other, and Cartman put himself – Wow, way to be egotistical, Cartman," Token not-so-subtly mutters, "But two of you are correct. The majority of the jury said that of the five of you, they would trust Kyle and Tweek with their lives, so those two get a point. And it's really only you two who matter as we approach the final question," Token reveals, after tallying up the scores, "Right now, both Kyle and Tweek are tied with a perfect 8 points, that means whoever answers this final question correctly is the winner. If there's a tie, whoever locked in their answer first wins," Token says, taking a dramatic pause, "And because this question is oh-so-juicy, I am going to let all of you answer it because I am very interested in seeing your responses. We asked the jury: If you had to decide at this moment, who is the winner of Big Brother?"

The houseguests pause and ponder this over, several of them scared to make the first move as they survey the others around them. "Wow, okay. We have a spectrum of answers for this one," Token states a minute later, as he stares down at the line of housemate heads, "Wendy, Bebe, and Cartman all picked themselves, Kyle picked Bebe, and Tweek picked Kyle. Even though I cannot reveal the specifics of the results, I will tell you that only one of you didn't receive a vote from at least one member of the jury, so this was a tight race here."

"Why even bother being vague about it, Token? We all obviously know it was Spazzy McSpaz who the jury shat on," Cartman gloats, leaning back smugly with his arms crossed.

"So, if the jury had to pick a winner today, the majority of them said that they would pick…Bebe," Token dramatically reveals, choosing to ignore the fatass' comment. At this, Bebe's face lights up. She leans forward, giving a vivacious, gracious bow. "And that means Kyle has won this week's luxury competition and gets to decide which recreational item he would like to buy for the Big Brother backyard!"

"Whoo!" Kyle cheers, throwing his Bebe head across the lawn like a Frisbee as Wendy races over and pulls him into a hug.

Tweek's eyes trail to the floor, trying his best to conceal his disappointment at the victory slipping through his fingers at the last moment. Tweek walks over to the redhead, a tiny but genuine smile on his face as he stops in front of the Jew, "Congratulations, Kyle," he states.

Kyle nods, a touching glint in his eyes, "Thanks, Tweek."

"Alright, Kyle. Get on over here," Token announces, gesturing Kyle to the television, where the Big Brother host is plastered on the screen. "The rest of you, please return to the living room. You can keep the heads if you want to."

Bebe cocks her forehead at this add-on, "Why would we want to?" she wonders.

"Cause then you can make them do embarrassing shit like this!" Cartman beams, reaching down and grabbing his Kyle and Stan heads, "'Oh, Stan. You are soooo hot, but not as hot as Cartman!'" Cartman states in a high-pitched girly voice as he speaks for the Kyle head. "Oh yeah, Cartman is sexy. One day, I hope to be as sexy as hyeeeeem!" Cartman coos for the Stan head, flimsily moving the heads up and down as he talks for them. He swiftly bends over and grabs the Kenny head, holding it next to the other two, "I'm poor," he grunts, immediately bursting into a fit of hysterics. He flings the heads above him as he holds his stomach, literally rolling on the floor in laughter, a few of the heads landing right on top of his torso.

Kyle faceplants into a groan, "Someone please take those away from him," he grumbles, unaware that the other three houseguests fled the scene a few seconds before Cartman's performance.

"Oop. Sounds like someone has some sand in their vagina!" Cartman sings, rolling onto his side and smirking at the redhead upon catching his breath.

Kyle's face darkens, his fists clenched, "No, I don't!"

"'Yes, I do!'" Cartman squeaks, biting back a chortle as he holds up the Kyle head and talks for him.

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman!"

"'Never stop talking, Cartman!'" Cartman beams with his shrill Kyle voice.

Token laughs onscreen, his face physically aching from the shenanigans as Kyle fumes in front of Token's digital likeness, "I knew this competition was a great idea," he brags.

Chapter Text

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

Kyle has been a bit withdrawn lately. I'm really worried about him. I tried talking to him a bit this morning, but he won't tell me what's wrong. I hate jumping to conclusions, but I wonder if it has something to do with Douchebag's letter...you know, the one he didn't tell me about that I had to find out about from Cartman? (sighs) Look, I'm not mad, but I've seen this song and dance before. Douchebag doesn't want to commit, but she wants to keep Kyle close just in case she can't find anyone better, and he's falling for it hook, line, and sinker. I mean, you saw what he was like when she came here. And if she had that big of an effect on him while she was just here for a day, who knows what kind of psychological damage her letter may have caused or will cause in the future? All I know is that letter is the gray storm cloud hovering over our relationship. And honestly, it's stressing me out a whole lot more than I thought it would.

…

Early that morning, Wendy pokes her head into the boys room, watching as Kyle intricately rearranges the items on his dresser. Wendy cocks her forehead when she spies a photo she has never seen before in Kyle's hands, the redhead carefully placing the framed picture in the corner.

"Hey, Kyle," Wendy greets, an easiness in her tone. Kyle turns as she slowly approaches him, bemused by her entrance, "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. Just rearranging my dresser," Kyle answers, quickly returning to the task at hand.

"Ah," Wendy nods, the air muggy and convoluted around them, "That's, uh, nice picture you got there."

"Oh, thanks," Kyle states, latching onto the frame harder at its mention. He turns it to the side, giving Wendy her first good glimpse at it. Her eyes widen at the sight of picture. Kyle is lovingly holding his ex-girlfriend in front of the ocean, the boy sporting the biggest smile Wendy has ever seen from him, "It's, um, me and Dee at Myrtle Beach two summers ago."

Wendy swallows, her throat dry and patchy, "Right," she squeaks, begrudgingly forcing a smile at the girl in the photo, "Kinda weird that you brought that considering, you know, you guys broke up…"

Kyle stiffens in place as a painfully-awkward silence washes over them, his eyes glued to the photo in his palms. Finally, after a few excruciatingly sluggish moments, Kyle sighs, setting the picture on his dresser, "Is there something you wanted, Wendy?"

"I don't know," Wendy answers honestly, after dwelling on the thought, "I guess I just wanted to see what was up with you. You've been so…reserved lately."

"Yeah, well, it's been a rough few weeks," Kyle states succinctly, barely lifting his head up.

Wendy nods, her heart dropping at the dejected look in his eyes, "Kyle, I'm worried about you," she reveals, placing a consoling hand on his shoulder, "I think we all are. You haven't exactly been you since you got here."

"It's kinda bold to assume that you guys would know what I'm supposed to be like," Kyle retorts, immediately jumping on the defensive. "Not to be mean, but I haven't seen most of you since high school."

"We're just concerned, okay?" Wendy rebuttals, somewhat surprised by the temerity of Kyle's response, "I mean, you haven't exactly been the same since-"

"Since what?" Kyle cuts in, the redhead looking like he is on the verge of tears.

Wendy sighs, her jaw slacking a tad, "Since…she broke it off," Wendy whispers into the silence, having a hard time pushing out these words.

Kyle scans the room, his fiery expression morphing to despondence right before her very eyes, "Well, you're right…I'm not," he admits, moreso to himself than to Wendy.

Wendy nods and exhales, the weight of her upcoming question crushing her to her core, "Kyle, tell me the truth," Wendy states, staring into his eyes, "if Dee walked through that door right now and asked you if you'd take her back, what would you say?"

Kyle leans back slightly, caught off-guard by the direct yet simple nature of Wendy's question. He stares down at the raven, his tone faint but sure.

"I'd say yes."

"Great," Wendy nods, the answer striking her heart like a mallet, "Thanks for letting me know where I stand," she states, her tone disingenuous.

"Wendy-" Kyle calls, half-heartedly reaching his hand out as she turns away from him. Wendy sniffs, wiping a tear away from her cheek as she exits.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Fart Lover

Telling the truth gets you nowhere in this house, but why am I surprised? This is a game of deception. Sometimes I wonder why I'm even still doing this when it's clearly tearing me apart.

…

Fifteen minutes later, Wendy is pacing the floor of the girls room, her mind a tsunami of emotions as she combs through her long, raven locks. After a moment, Wendy stops in the middle of the room, her hands perched on her hips as she stares at the ground. Wendy sighs, her legs having a mind of their own as they lead her next door to the equally-empty boys room. Wendy stops in front of Kyle's dresser and glares at the girl in the photo who has been quietly mocking her for the entirety of her relationship with Kyle.

"Fuckin' Dee," Wendy curses under her the breath, "What the hell is her problem? Why can't she just let go of him?" Wendy huffs, her eyes zoned in on the letter that is perched against the back mirror of the dresser. She quickly scans the room before reaching forward and grabbing the envelope, the outside in pristine condition. She sneers at its surface, Kyle's name written across the center in bubbly cursive.

Suddenly, Wendy surges forward, so overwhelmed by jealous rage that she shamelessly tears it up. Wendy watches devilishly as the pieces of discarded paper fall to the floor, littering the ground like the garbage that it stands for.

Wendy's stomach sinks in her chest, her conscience finally catching up with her as she stares down at the remnants of Kyle's beloved's letter, Wendy wondering how she could be so quick to vilify someone that she barely even knows.

"Oh my God, what have I done?" Wendy squeaks, an overwhelming sense of guilt washing over her as she places her hands on the sides of her face, shocked and appalled by her behavior, "When did I become such a monster?" Wendy crouches down on the floor and quickly scoops up the discarded pieces in her palms, "I gotta fix this quick before he never trusts another human being again!"

…

Bebe Stevens
Former Most Popular Girl in School

There's a lot of down time here in the Big Brother house, so you gotta make your own fun if you want any chance of not losing your damn mind. I'm very lucky cause two of my friends are still in this house, so I don't really have to branch too far out of my comfort zone when it comes to my free-time activities. And there's nothing more fab or Bebe-esque than a Big Brother fashion show!

…

That afternoon, Bebe is sitting on one of the living room sofas, smiling as she watches Tweek do a small twirl in front of her, sporting his redesigned Wonder Tweek sweater and a pair of dusty gray jeggings.

Bebe whistles, "That's a nice outfit, Tweek. Did Craig like it?"

Tweek stops in place and shrugs, "I don't know. It's never been on me long enough for him to notice."

"Kinky," Bebe chimes, perking up a bit when she sees her best friend entering the room. "Oh, hey, Wendy! You're just in time. We were just about to have a fashion show!"

Wendy walks over to the pair and sighs, her face as long as her list of complaints about gender norms. "You guys, I need your help," she states, her friends' faces falling at her somber demeanor, "I just did something really stupid," she wholeheartedly confesses, hoping to enlist her alliance members for assistance in her latest conundrum.

"Please tell me you didn't sleep with Cartman," Bebe mutters.

"Oh no. God, no!" Wendy shrieks, her face scrunching in disgust at the mere thought, "No, I, uh, may have destroyed a certain someone's last chance at happiness and I need you guys to help me put it back together before he drowns in an ocean of his own tears," she says, pulling her hands out from behind her back and holding up the remnants of the letter.

Bebe's eyes widen like saucers. "Holy shit," she states, leaning back on the sofa a bit before heaving herself up with a sigh, "Alright, I'll get the tape."

A few minutes later, the trio is sitting in the center of the storage room, the pieces of the letter scattered on the surface of the floor below them. Wendy and Bebe are crouched on the ground shifting through the pieces while Tweek stands above them, making sure all of them are in the correct order.

"Okay, um, I think this part goes here cause she mentions their trip to Portugal and wait, does she usually call him 'Bubbe'? Oh, I don't know!" Bebe cries, exasperatingly tossing the piece down beside her, "Why the hell did you destroy this, Wendy? Since when did you become a living episode of My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend?"

"I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what came over me!" Wendy defends, trying her best to suppress her emotions, "I just-I just hate how she's clearly dragging him along for the ride."

"To be fair, we don't know that," Bebe says as Tweek crouches down across from them and starts rearranging the pieces in the background, "For all we know, she's being sincere and she wants him back. I mean, didn't they exchange 'I love yous' right before she left?"

"What?!" Wendy boisterously cries, her high-pitched tone ricocheting off the walls, "Oh my God," she groans, hiding her face in her hands, "I've been such an idiot, haven't I?" Wendy speaks into the silence while Tweek starts taping up the letter behind them, "And now he's never going to talk to me again…"

"Cheer up, Wendy. Kyle's not that heartless," Bebe assures her, giving her friend a gentle pat on the shoulder. Behind them, Tweek accidentally tapes his two fingers together, giving a small 'eep' as he struggles to shake the tape off.

After a few tugs, Tweek frees his limbs and proudly holds up the finished product. "Here you go, Wendy," he states, presenting the reconstructed letter, which resembles more of a mosaic than a solid sheet of paper. Even still, Wendy's face lights up as she takes it from him.

"Thank you, Tweek," Wendy squeaks, touched by her friend's effort, "Hopefully now Kyle won't hate me as much when he finds it."

"You're welcome," Tweek beams, "but you should tell him what you did. People respect people who own up to their mistakes. And yeah, he might be mad, but I can guarantee you he'd be ten times madder if he found out you tried to keep this from him instead of just confessing to it."

Wendy sighs. As much as she doesn't want to hear this right now, she knows it's the truth. "You're right. I'll tell him," she states with a definite sigh, "Kyle's not robot; I'm sure he'll understand."

Wendy walks out into the living room, holding Kyle's folded up mess of a letter in her palm, with Bebe and Tweek trailing a few feet behind her. She passes by Cartman, who is holding an open trash bag and picking up a discarded apple core from underneath the sofa.

"Oh good, you found some trash!" Cartman exclaims, snatching the piece of paper from Wendy and chucking it into the fireplace. The fire roars and doubles in size, the trio freezing in place at Cartman's negligence.

"CARTMAN! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Wendy screams, pure panic bubbling in her core, "That wasn't trash! That was one of Kyle's personal belongings!"

"Oh…so it was one of Kahl's personal belongings, you say?" Cartman chimes, bringing his hand up and ponderously scratching his chin, "Well, in that case…" Cartman takes a step closer to the fireplace, grabs the knob beside it, and cranks up the heat, watching the paper disintegrate in satisfaction.

"CARTMAN!" Wendy shrieks, the panic in her eyes immediately replaced with fury, "Why would you do that?! We're going to be in so much trouble! What are we supposed to tell him now?"

"Um…nothing, obviously," Cartman mutters, rolling his eyes as Wendy stands in front of him sporting a hopeless expression, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go spend the afternoon on the toilet," he states, walking past a crowd of disgusted faces on his way to the bathroom.

Eric Cartman
Psychopath

Jesus Christ! The one time I try to help these dumbasses, it turns out to be someone's prized possession. Why does the good guy always get picked on around 'ere? (shakes head)

…

Bebe Stevens
Sassy Fashionista

Wendy's been super tense today, so what better way to soothe her troubles than to premiere the first annual Big Brother fashion show?

…

Later that afternoon, Bebe, Wendy, and Tweek are gathered in the living room, which has been transformed into a miniature catwalk for their spur-of-the-moment fashion show. Pillows line the floor, outlining a makeshift runway as the stereo that Token gifted the residents for the talent show sits next to the entrance. Bebe, who is dressed in a sparkly silver top and pink cargo pants, is situated on top of the sofa, holding her detached microphone up to her lips as she announces the contestants.

"Up next is Miss Wendy Testaburger, who is wearing the latest edition from Calvin Klein's Summer Collection," Bebe narrates, her voice as smooth as butter.

Tweek cheers from the sofa as Wendy steps onto the edge of the catwalk, sporting one of Bebe's bright yellow dresses, complete with matching heels. "Whoo! You go, girlfriend!"

Wendy cringes as she turns to the audience, still a bit on-edge after the whole letter fiasco, "Tweek, don't do that," she scolds. Tweek shrugs as Wendy struts down the runway, Kyle curiously poking his head into the room behind them.

"What's going on here?" Kyle asks, his tone sullen but genuine all the same.

Tweek turns to him and smiles warmly, "We're having a fashion show. You should join us."

"No thanks," Kyle states, so dejected that he barely lifts his head up, "I don't think I'd be any fun."

"Nonsense! You'd be loads of fun, Kyle. You just need to do something a little different with your clothes," Tweek assures him, grabbing Kyle by the forearm and pulling him onto the sofa between him and Bebe.

Kyle blinks twice, flushing at the sudden attention as the two girls both stop what they are doing to focus on him. "Oh, um, alright."

A half hour of obsessive making over later, the four houseguests are back in the living room in the midst of resuming their fashion show. Bebe is perched in her announcer's place on top of the sofa while Wendy and Tweek are sitting on the couch cushions, decked out in their same outfits: Wendy wearing Bebe's bright yellow dress and Tweek sporting his Wonder Tweek sweater and jeggings. Bebe smiles as her eyes fall on their newest model, who is standing at the edge of the runway, preparing to make his entrance.

"And up next, we have Kyle, who is sporting this season's Fall look, which features a lovely satin belt, a ruffled seafoam shirt, and jet-black boyfriend jeans."

"I can't believe you seriously got him to wear your pants," Wendy whispers, leaning playfully into her best friend's side.

Bebe chuckles, watching as Kyle makes a dramatic spin on the runway, showing off his ass. "Yeah! Shake it, baby!" she cries.

Cartman is leaning against the wall nearby, his chubby arms crossed in a huff as he watches the houseguests cheer his greatest nemesis on. Finally, after a few moments of sulking, he stomps over to them, cutting Kyle off on his way down the catwalk, "You call that a strut? I've seen better pep from Butters' eighty-year-old grandma!" he sneers, shooting out complaints like a pageant mom.

Kyle rolls his eyes, his stance sassy and firm, "Oh yeah, fatass? I'd like to see you do better!"

"Alright, I will, you filthy Jew!" Cartman snaps robustly, immediately jumping on the defensive.

"Up last, we have Cartman, who is showing off his take on the latest Armani trends," Bebe announces, five minutes later, as Kyle, Wendy, and Tweek sit off to the side to watch.

Cartman sashays down the runway, the fatass getting surprisingly into it as he makes his way to the center of the living room. He stops in place, dramatically flicking the sky-blue feather boa over his shoulder and sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, giving the audience a wink before striking a pose and sauntering down the runway in the opposite direction. Everyone cheers as he exits the catwalk, Cartman taking off his beanie and ecstatically chucking it to the floor. Kyle holds his sides, his body filling with undisputed happiness for the first time in a while.

…

Twenty minutes later, everyone, minus Kyle and Cartman, is lounging in the living room, utterly exhausted after their impromptu fashion show. Bebe yawns from her seat on the sofa, her hair and clothes slightly disheveled as she sits next to Wendy.

"Alright, everyone." Kyle beams, approaching the trio in glee as he stands beside the coffee table. He clasps his hands together, "It's time for me to reveal what item I purchased for the Big Brother backyard. Come on out and see it!" Kyle exclaims, waving towards the backdoor.

The three friends turn and look at each other, intrigued by Kyle's ebullience. They stand up from their seats and head towards the sliding glass door. Tweek eyes widen as the shadow of the item washes over him.

"Wait a minute…is that? No, it can't be," Tweek gasps, taking a few steps into the backyard and gazing up at the structure, "It is!" he cries, "Trampoline, trampoline, TRAMPOLINE!" Tweek cheers, racing towards the recreational item. He throws his shoes off and immediately starts jumping on it.

"Hey, wait for me!" Bebe chimes, quickly flinging her heels off and going in after him, Wendy following suit shortly afterwards.

Tweek giggles as Bebe accidentally bounces into him, the pair grabbing onto each other in a loose hug. Tweek smiles and glances towards the back entrance, "Thank you, Kyle!"

Kyle nods, his eyes shining as he watches his housemates enjoy themselves, "No problem."

Cartman huffs, approaching Kyle from behind while he watches the trio jump happily above him. "Why the fuck did you get a trampoline?" he wonders. Cartman looks to Kyle, drawing an imaginary eyeline from the Jew to the spaz. The fatass' eyes widen in realization, "Oh my God, you want to get in his pants, don't you?"

"No, Cartman," Kyle states with a sigh as he continues gazing up at them, "I think we all just need something fun in our lives."

"Hey!" Tweek beams as he soars above the trampoline and narrows in on the power line, "I can see Craig's pants from here!"

…

Later that night, the trio is flopped down on their backs on the trampoline, exhausted after spending a solid two hours jumping on it. Tweek smiles as he stares up at the stars, feeling surprisingly calm for the first time since Craig's departure, "Well, I can't feel my arms and legs, but I think it was worth it," he states with a loving sigh, "I'm not even going to use my bed anymore; I'm just going to sleep out here," he jokes.

Wendy laughs, "Yeah, this is pretty sweet. Thanks, you guys," Wendy says sincerely, speaking from the bottom of her heart as she twists onto her stomach to look at them. She sniffs, her eyes shining, "I really appreciate everything you two have done for me…I won't forget it."

…

Eric Cartman
Evil Personified

Well, it's been two days and Tweek still hasn't self-evicted yet, so maybe he just needs a little shove in the right direction.

…

Cartman moseys into the living room, early the next morning, whistling a cheerful tone as he approaches the residence's spaz, who is busying reading his boyfriend's book about Space on the sofa. Cartman stops at the edge of the sofa and pulls out his Craig jury head from the previous luxury competition. He sinisterly smirks as he leans over the sofa arm. "Tweek! Hey, Tweek, look! It's Craig!" Cartman cries, before holding the Craig head over his face. Tweek sets the book down slightly, cocking his forehead at Cartman's antics, "Hey, babe," Cartman snorts, doing his best Craig impersonation, "Don't worry about coming to the jury house. I have all the hot ass I could want here!" Cartman smirks behind the Craig head, hoping to tug at Tweek's insecurities.

Tweek rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the book, "Craig would never say that, and he doesn't talk like that. You really don't know him at all."

Cartman pulls the head down a tad and flashes his best apologetic expression, "Oh, sorry. My bad," he states disingenuously, "He sounds more like this-" Cartman reaches up and plugs his nose with his hand before imitating Craig again, this time much more reprehensible than the last, "Hey, honey. I don't love you anymore. I think we should break up, so I can focus more on starting my guinea pig circus and clearing my sinuses! But don't worry, I'll still ring you up for a booty call every time I feel like hating myself!"

Cartman pulls his Craig head down and immediately stares at Tweek's expression. The blonde is sitting on the sofa, tongue-tied, death-gripping his book. Cartman smirks, the fatass basking in his discomfort, Tweek's shattered expression giving him life.

Tweek Tweak
Lover of All Things Gay & Rubbery

Sure, I could punch Cartman, but what would that prove? He's not even worth the fight. And I may be a crier, but I got thick skin, especially when it comes to dealing with idiots.

…

Cartman holds the head up, about to rub more salt into the wound, when a boisterous voice thunders across the room. "CARTMAN! WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" Cartman snaps his neck to the side, only to find Bebe sneering at him from the fireplace, locked and loaded.

"Whoa! Guess I better step down now, fellas, cause mama bear's getting upset," Cartman taunts, holding his hands up in mock defense.

Bebe crosses her arms over her chest as Tweek slips past her into the hallway, in search of their raven-haired friend. "Really? Now you're a big bully, too? Do you have anything going for you?" she snarks, giving a curt head nod as she sizes him up.

"Aye! I have a lot of things going for me: my buff-ness, my personality, my hatred for the common man," Cartman lists, growing more agitated by the moment as he circles around her, "So don't you try to drag me into this!"

"Into what? The fight that you started yourself?" Bebe rebuttals, getting ready to berate him some more.

"Jesus Christ, Bebe, you're such a bitch!" Cartman spits, "No wonder why Clyde didn't take you back."

"Really?" Bebe chastises, perching her hands on her hips with confidence, "That's the best you can come up with? You're so pathetic, Cartman."

The other three houseguests creep into the room, careful to keep their distance as Bebe and Cartman erupt into a shouting match.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed your days in this house, Bebe, cause as far as I'm concerned, this Friday will be your last!" Cartman yells, narrowing his eyes at his newest game rival, "This little stunt just gave you a target on your back the size of Pluto!"

"Oh, yeah?" Bebe coos, her face florid in anger, "We'll just see who's the one crying on Friday, you fatass!"

…

Tweek Tweak
Level-headed Sad Sack/Craigless Wonder

Usually when people discuss strategy, they always tend to talk about what you do and not what you don't do. Sometimes being quiet, fading into the background, and observing what's going on around you will give you valuable information about other people's games. For example, last week after Cartman won the HOH competition, I noticed that the only person who wasn't nervous about it was Kyle, which just confirms my suspicion that they're working together.

Stepping into the background and staying out of the drama also minimizes the target on your back, which is something I desperately need right now…especially after barely surviving the block last week. Half the battle is knowing your opponents, and I know these people pretty well. If I go on the offensive and start declaring enemies left and right like Cartman is, chances are, I'd be out this week, so I need to step back and do things behind the scenes, so no one will see me influencing the game. And if I'm lucky, they may even forget that I'm a contender.

…

An hour later, Cartman is sitting on his luxurious double bed in the HOH room, stewing over his fresh fight with Bebe. "I just can't believe the nerve of that bitch! Does she want to go home? Cause I can make that happen so fast, her head will spin!" Cartman rants to a rather disinterested Kyle, who is sitting on the single lounge chair across the room.

Kyle sighs and traces a swirl pattern into the armrest, "Cartman, we're so close to the end here. The last thing we need is you making more enemies."

"I'm not making enemies, Kahl, she's the one who decided to cause a scene. She just walked into the living room and started yelling at me!"

Kyle frowns at his partner's blatant omission, "Because you were picking on Tweek," he reminds him.

Cartman huffs and crosses his chubby forearms, "That part is irrelevant," he mutters into the carpet, before sitting up, his body fueled by disdain, "All I'm saying is that the jury must be fuckin' clueless if they think that Bebe should be the winner of this thing when she hasn't done anything all season except get in the way."

"I don't know, Cartman. I mean, you even said yourself that Bebe's a triple threat. She has the social, physical, and strategic game," Kyle reminds him, the fatass grimacing at his response. Cartman rolls his eyes up at the ceiling.

…

Eric Cartman
Evil Personified

Bebe? Really? Are these people blind? Everyone knows she's just filler material! Obviously, I'm the one who's calling all the shots around 'ere. Those people are such idiots; no wonder why most of them are on the jury!

…

Meanwhile, in the girls room, Bebe is pacing the floor of the bedroom, still fuming over her preceding fight with Cartman. "I just can't believe he would sink so low!" Bebe states as she passes in front of her friends, who are sitting side by side on Wendy's bed, "Why the hell are we even putting up with this? Cartman should've been long gone by now!"

"I know," Wendy speaks up while Tweek blows his nose into a tissue next to her, hugging his knees to his chest with his free hand, "But for some reason, no one will put him up."

"Then we'll just have to be the ones to do it," Bebe says definitively, fire in her tone, "I'm not letting Cartman get any further. There's no way he's staying here longer than me. It's time we set our sights on cutting the fat from this house before it chokes us." Bebe stops in place, the trio widening their eyes at the bizarre imagery triggered by her comment, "Okay, I will admit that sounded better in my head, but the message still stands: We need to get that piece of shit out."

…

Bebe Stevens
Blonde Badass

I want this HOH win bad. Cartman thinks he's running the show, but he's sadly mistaken. And once I get in power, I'll put Kyle and Cartman on the block, then my alliance will be in total control of the vote and Cartman will be out of here so fast, he'll hurl. It's time to take out the trash. Game on, fat boy. You're going to regret messing with me.

…

Early that afternoon, Token smiles as he watches all five of the remaining houseguests gather on the blue mat beside the trampoline in the Big Brother backyard. "Hello, everyone, and welcome to the sixth and most important HOH competition to date. As always, the outgoing HOH, Cartman, will be ineligible to participate. Last time, I put you all in a cage," Token pauses, causing several of the houseguests to perk their eyebrows, bemused.

"And…?" Kyle chimes.

"And nothing, I just like reminding you," Token boasts with a smirk. He claps his hands before continuing, "For this week's HOH competition, I will make a statement and you will need to tell me who you think best matches that description. This competition is similar to the one we did earlier this week, but instead of matching what the jury said, you must match the majority of your housemates," he explains, making sure everyone is playing attention before shamelessly diving into his next comment, "That's right. I'm trying to create unnecessary friction in the house by using unflattering and controversial statements. Am I amazing or what?" he quips. Cartman rolls his eyes from the sidelines.

Token clears his throat, "Anyway, your stack of housemate heads from the previous competition will be placed on the tray in front of you, and you must hold up the correct one after I say the statement for your answer to count," he explains, eagerly licking his lips in anticipation, "Oh, and one more thing. To make it fun, you will all be running on treadmills," he says, gesturing to the line of treadmills beside the housemates that are lined in front of a large pool of mud, "And for every question you get wrong, I up the speed one notch. The last person to fall in the mud pit behind them wins this week's HOH. Since this challenge is a bit trickier, I will give you guys ample time to answer. Now, are there questions before we get started?" Token asks. He stares out at the group, who surprisingly shakes their heads. "Alright, I'll give everybody five minutes to change and then we'll get in position. Careful, you guys, things are about to get dirty."

"Jesus Christ, Token, you're worse than Kenny!" Cartman remarks from his lounge chair.

Five minutes later, all four of the eligible houseguests are standing on their stationary treadmills, dressed in their gym wear as they anxiously await the start of the competition.

Tweek eeps as his treadmill roars to life and jerks backwards. Instinctively, everyone grabs the handlebars of their treadmill and begins walking.

"Alright, everyone, the treadmills are on, which means this HOH competition has officially begun. We'll start with an easy one: This housemate is the most disgusting person in the house."

Bebe raises her hand, her curly, strawberry blonde locks pulled back into a ponytail as she stares up at the loudspeaker, "Wait. Do you mean disgusting as in 'gross' or disgusting as in just an overall vile human being?" she wonders.

Next to her, Kyle cocks his forehead, "Does it matter? Cause I'm pretty sure that clarification changes nothing."

"You're right," Bebe states with an affirmative nod, "It's Cartman."

"And, as a surprise to no one, everyone put Cartman," Token announces, gazing down at the line of Cartman heads that the houseguests are holding up, the fatass cursing under his breath from the sidelines, "Everyone got it correct, so I will keep the treadmills where they are. The next statement reads: This person is the residence's crybaby." Token watches as the houseguests dig through their stacks of heads, a few of them taking their sweet time to lock in their answers. "Interesting. Almost everyone said Kyle is the residence's crybaby, except for Tweek, who says it's him. And Tweek, you must be very self-aware because you are the only one who got that right. That means I am cranking the speed of the treadmill up one notch for Bebe, Wendy, and Kyle."

Token turns the three knobs beside him, escalating the snail-pace speed to more of a gentle walk. "Okay, this brings us to statement three: I would rather die than sleep within five feet of this person," Token smirks, watching as the air is, once again, filled with Cartman heads, "Oh, I love how quickly you guys answer the Cartman statements," he beams.

Cartman stomps his foot, seething at the audacity of his fellow houseguests. "Please! Yew guys wish you could sleep with me! It's not my fault all yew guys can manage to snag are dumbasses!"

"No, Cartman, I'm pretty sure they put you as the answer."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Token!" he growls.

Token smiles, basking in Cartman's anger like it's a cup of warm tea on a cold winter's day, "Ah, there's nothing quite like causing Cartman distress in the morning," Token glances down at the houseguests, who are all flashing him puzzled expressions, "It's a figure of speech," he elaborates with a wave of his hand, "Anyway, statement four: This person is a huge blabbermouth." Token sits in silence as the housemates ponder this one over. Finally, after a minute or so, they display their answers, "Alright. I see a mixed group here: Kyle put Wendy, Tweek put Bebe, and both Wendy and Bebe picked Cartman. But only one of you is correct. The majority answered Wendy, so Tweek, Wendy, and Bebe, I'm going to increase the speed on your treadmills," he states, reaching over and turning their knobs. Tweek's treadmill speed increases to a comfortable walk, while Wendy and Bebe's speed increases to a light jog.

"Alright, guys. We are now ten questions into this competition, and here's where we stand. Everyone, minus Kyle, is on speed five of their treadmill, which is the highest it will go at 8.5 miles per hour. Right now, Kyle is still at speed four, which equals to about six," Token explains to the crowd, after another fifteen minutes have passed, "So far, we have learned that Kyle has bad breath, Bebe is too materialistic, and Cartman is a terrible human being who will die alone."

"Aye! We didn't learn that!" Cartman barks.

"You're right, we already knew it. So now, it is simply a battle of stamina," Token coos, clasping his hands together as he smirks at the houseguests, most of whom are sweating beyond belief, "Whoever lasts the longest from here on out will win this week's HOH competition."

"Eek!" Tweek slips and is flung backwards by the treadmill, falling feet-first into the mud. He groans as he coughs up some of the gritty substance. "Aww man!"

"Dude, how the hell did you lose that? You've had dick up your ass!" the fatass outcries.

Tweek slowly gets up and narrows his eyes at Cartman, "That's not the same thing," he replies, pressing his hand against his back as he hobbles over to the sidelines. He is about to step onto the concrete when Wendy flies backwards into the mud pile.

"Ack! Disgusting!" Wendy spews, quickly wiping the mud off her teeth using the back of her hand, "Almost as disgusting as Cartman," she smirks, the side of her head caked in mud.

"And just like that, we are down to two: Kyle and Bebe. A battle of the ages, so to speak," Token announces, the latter pushing through the pain in her legs through gritted teeth while the former attempts to maintain his steady balance, "Who will win this week's HOH competition and become this season's sixth HOH?"

"Come on, Bebe! You can do it!" Wendy shouts encouragingly from the sidelines, "You're a warrior!"

"Come on, Kiel!" Cartman snarls, shoving himself in front of her, "Show that bitch you eat warriors for breakfast!"

"Um…go team!" Tweek nervously states with dull enthusiasm, complete with a meager fist pump, feeling increasingly awkward as he sits in the mist of his housemates' intensity.

The pair continue running, growing more exhausted and disheveled by the moment. "Kyle," Bebe exhales, as sweat glistens her forehead, "if I let you win, can you promise me that you won't put me up tomorrow?"

Kyle thinks this over for a moment. He shakes his head, "I'm sorry. I can't," he answers honestly, "Can you promise me that?"

"No." Bebe grunts, turning and locking eyes with the redhead, feeling like she is really seeing him as a strategic competitor for the first time this game, "Okay then. Thanks for being real with me."

Kyle nods, sweating dripping down his brow, "No problem. You know, I always thought that-"

"Whoa!" Bebe leans forward, losing her balance and ricocheting off the treadmill. She lands into the mud, the substance as bitter as her defeat as it splashes onto her face.

"And with that, Kyle has won his second HOH!" Token declares as Cartman jumps up from the sidelines and wobbles over to him. Kyle steps to the side of the treadmill, his legs like jello as he stumbles over to retrieve the key. Cartman wraps it around his neck, Kyle panting in front of him.

Behind them, Bebe slowly pulls herself out of the mud, despondent and dreary, Wendy and Tweek waiting a few feet away from the treadmills. "Well, that's it," Bebe declares, so grimy that her tears are full of mud, "It's over."

"It's okay, Bebe," Wendy consoles her, patting her best friend's back as the pair simultaneously pull her into a hug. Wendy smiles as she gazes fondly at Kyle across the lawn, "I'm sure everything will be fine."

…

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

Well, Bebe and I didn't win the HOH competition, but that's fine. I have total faith that Kyle will do the right thing and put Cartman up, because even though we had a bit of a spat yesterday and I destroyed his letter, Kyle's a good person, and good people always make sure that evil doesn't come out on top.

Chapter Text

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Fart Lover

I'm going to be honest: I didn't really want to win this HOH. But I was up against Bebe, and she was going to put me up if I lost, so I had no choice but to save myself. Unfortunately, this means it's finally time for me to quit playing both sides of the house and to draw my line in the sand. (deeply sighs) I am not looking forward to it. It's going to be tough to make it through these next few days without making any enemies, but if I can pull it off, that money is as good as mine. Wish me luck.

…

Bebe Stevens
Blonde Badass

At the HOH competition yesterday, Kyle looked me in the eyes and told me that he couldn't promise me safety. Usually, the only time a player says something like that is if they know that they're going after you, so essentially, I'm the target. And I'm a dead woman if Kyle puts me up against anyone but Cartman. If Kyle puts me up against Cartman, then Kyle's one of us, and if he doesn't, then what Tweek told me is true: Cartman and Kyle are working together…and Hell has officially frozen over.

…

Bebe is sitting on her bed in the girls room, her morale low after narrowly losing the HOH competition to Kyle. She sighs, crouching slightly as she unties her sneakers, trying her best to maintain her resilient demeanor and keep herself from spiraling into a pit of despair in front of her friend. Tweek plops down on the bed across from her, his expression somber as they lock eyes. "We're doomed, aren't we?" Bebe speaks, her words cutting into the silence.

Tweek looks down at the floor, nervously biting his lip while he ponders this over, "Well, that depends on what you mean by doomed. I do think that there's maybe a 1% chance that the three of us survive this week."

Bebe stares up at the wall and exhales, blowing some of her hair strains away from her cheek with her breath, "I would've taken you to the end, you know."

The pair sit in silence for a moment before Tweek shakes his head softly, "No, you wouldn't have," he states definitively.

Bebe nose laughs, "You're right. Sometimes I think you're too smart for your own good," she says, the room filling with their chuckles. "Tweek, tell me the truth, do you really think we can win this thing? Do you think the winner is in our group?"

Tweek purses his lips, mulling over whether he should be truthful or give in to wishful thinking. Finally, Tweek sighs as he stares impassively into Bebe's eyes, "Yes."

…

Tweek Tweak
Level-headed Sad Sack

I have a confession to make: I'm lying to Bebe. But what am I supposed to say? As much as I want to believe Craig that I'm the winner, I haven't really proven that to the jury yet. Right now, this game looks like it's Kyle's to lose, and that's what I want everyone to think. This game is all about timing and withholding information that you know could make or break you. Perception is powerful, and if you can figure out a way to use it to your advantage, you'll get far. Everyone thinks I've done nothing, and maybe they're right, but I'm not counting myself out completely until they get rid of me.

I also have another confession to make: I know Cartman didn't burn Douchebag's letter, cause I have the real one. (holds it up to the camera) – Kyle gave this to me a few days ago. He told me to hold onto it and not to give it to him until he's ready to hear what she has to say. (tucks letter into his pocket) – The letter that Wendy ripped up was actually from his mother. I'm surprised the girls didn't notice when we were taping it up. I mean, why would Kyle's ex call him by his mother's nickname? That's just disturbing. (shivers) – But I'm not going to tell Wendy that I have it because she really should apologize for destroying his property.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

I've been feeling super guilty about the whole letter situation with Kyle, so I think it's time I finally tear off the band-aid and do something about it before the guilt eats me up inside.

…

Early that morning, Wendy is sitting on Stan's old bed in the boys room, her expression firm as she stares at Cartman, who is lounging on his own bed across the room. Wendy claps her hands and interlocks her fingers, "Okay, so, we need to figure out what we're going to do about the whole Kyle thing."

"We?" Cartman repeats, glaring at Wendy like she just insulted Cheesy Poofs, "You're the one who tore up his letter."

"And you're the one who burned it," Wendy reminds him defensively, "Why are you trying to push all the blame onto me?"

The fatass shrugs, "It's easier, really." Wendy sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, already feeling the frustration building up in her temples. Cartman rolls his eyes and leans back against the blank wall, "Alright, fine. We'll come up with a story," he caves, "Now, let's see here…" Cartman gazes up at the ceiling and puffs his cheeks, drumming his fingers against his legs as he tries to think, "Ooh, I know! We can say that we were rearranging his desk for International Jew Day and we noticed there was a bee on his letter, so me, being the awesome hero that I am, went over there and shooed it off, but the bee came back with fifteen of his friends and they ate the whole thing up. – There! Problem solved!" he chimes, clapping his hands smugly.

Wendy cocks her forehead, watching as Cartman leans back against the wall, a satisfied smirk shining on his face as he promptly rests his head on his palms. "That doesn't make any sense. I'm pretty sure I just counted at least fifteen things wrong with that story, and it only took you a minute to tell it."

Cartman leans forward with a huff, "That's fine! That's fine!" he snaps, "Then just tell him you had a bad case of the menses!"

Wendy sighs, "Why is that your solution to everything?" she grumbles, "Look, at this rate, we may as well just tell him the truth."

"What? That you're a jealous psychopath who wants to get into his pants to get some of that sweet, sweet Jew gold?" Cartman quips.

Wendy groans, "No, Cartman. I'm going to tell him that I tore it up and you burned it in the fireplace. That's all," she concludes.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

I'm not gonna lie, I'm definitely tempted to just ignore this and take the easy way out. But if I did that, then I would sink to the same level as Cartman, and that's not a place you ever want to be in your life. So, I'm going to tell Kyle the truth, even if it makes me want to vomit, because he deserves to know, and I want to be able to sleep at night.

…

Later that morning, Wendy peeks her head into the HOH room, her nerves at an absolute ten as she sees Kyle perched on his bed, sorting through his newest gift basket. Wendy slowly lifts her knuckle up and gingerly knocks on the door.

"Come in!" Kyle chimes, barely lifting his head up.

Wendy nods and steps into the room. "Hey," she greets.

"Hey, Wendy," Kyle greets back, his breath hitched as she stops in front of him. The redhead swallows as he looks up at her, "Look, about yesterday-"

"Kyle, I'm fine," Wendy assures him, pushing her hands down slightly towards the carpet, "I'm actually here to talk to you about something else," she states, lingering beside the mattress.

Kyle leans back, somewhat shocked by this news, a tinge of intrigue in his tone, "Oh," he clears his throat, "What?"

Wendy sighs and turns her back to him, wringing her hands as she prepares to confess her crimes, "So, you obviously remember that fight we had a few days ago, right?"

Kyle nods, an uneasy glint in his eyes, "Yeah…?"

Wendy exhales once more and turns to face him, trying her best to conceal her nervousness, "Well, um, I didn't exactly take it too well at the time, and I may have sort of ripped up Dee's letter to you in response."

"What?! Why would you do that?" Kyle squeaks, taken so off-guard that he stands up.

"I don't know!" Wendy cries, throwing her arms out as she starts to feel her control of the situation slipping through her fingers, "I guess I just got jealous and I let my feelings for you get in the way of my basic human decency, and-" she sighs, "I'm so sorry, Kyle. But, um, Tweek helped me tape it back together…" she adds sheepishly, hoping to ease Kyle a bit with this silver lining before the reality snatches it away from him again, "…and then Cartman kinda threw it into the fireplace. I tried to dig up the pieces, but there was nothing left," she adds, watching as Kyle sinks onto the floor and rubs his aching forehead, "I'm really sorry. I never should've taken that letter off your dresser; I don't know what I was thinking-"

Kyle perks up slightly, his expression still fatigued but not hopeless. "Wait. You took the letter from my dresser?"

Wendy blinks twice, unsure why this matters, "Yes?"

"That wasn't Dee's letter. It was a letter from my mother."

"What?" Wendy squeaks, even more puzzled by this discovery than Kyle was, "But-but it had your name written-"

"-in big, bubbly cursive letters. Yeah, that's my mother's handwriting for you," Kyle finishes, standing up from the carpet with a sigh. Wendy smiles slightly as Kyle heads towards the doorway, unable to mask her relief at the catastrophe she just dodged. Kyle stops in place as he comes face to face with the fatass in the living room, who is standing beside the very fireplace that destroyed his letter from home.

"Hey, Cartman," Wendy beams, the massive wave of guilt just rolling off her back, "It turns out we didn't destroy Douchebag's letter after all. Isn't that great?"

Cartman looks to Kyle, who gives a meager, confirmative nod, "Yeah, it was just a letter from my mother that was filled with tons of cringeworthy pet names and embarrassing childhood memories," Kyle adds, monotone, looking like he is completely done with today.

"Goddammit!" Cartman exclaims, before snapping his fingers and rushing to the fireplace. He kneels in front of it and frantically digs through it, hoping to piece the letter back together for some juicy blackmail. The fatass curses under his breath when all he finds are a bunch of charred up bits.

Behind him, Tweek is shaking his head as he watches the scene unfold with Bebe beside the sliding glass door.

…

Tweek Tweak
Level-headed Sad Sack

What did I say? I said 'Wendy, tell him you messed up', 'Kyle, slow down and don't rush into things', 'Craig, don't dress up Stripe like a tube of toothpaste', but does anybody listen? (thinks this over) – Surprisingly, yes. (scratches chin) – Huh. Imagine that.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Fart Lover

So, I just found out that two of my closest allies purposely destroyed one of my personal belongings, and now I have to pull myself together in less than a day so I can nominate two people for eviction tonight. – Oh my God, why does everything here always have to be such a struggle?

…

Early that afternoon, Wendy, Bebe, and Tweek are gathered in the storage room, discussing the upcoming nomination ceremony. Bebe paces the floor, both her and Tweek appearing utterly distressed while Wendy stares wondrously at them. "I don't know why you guys are so worried about it. We got this. Kyle is on our side," Wendy assures them.

"No, he's not," Bebe replies, turning towards her best friend with a deflated sigh, "We keep telling you that he's with Cartman. Tweek said he's 99% sure-"

"-and I keep telling you guys that that's a load of bullshit," Wendy counters, voice unwavering, "Kyle's always been with us, and tonight is going to prove it." Bebe turns to Tweek, the pair exchanging nervous glances. Wendy turns to her friends and sighs, "Look, I know you two still have your doubts, but I can guarantee you that we're alright. He'll call the nomination ceremony, put Cartman and you up," Wendy explains, stopping beside Tweek, "We'll have the votes to save you, then we'll all make the final four. It's as simple as that!" she beams, her two alliance members' gazes to the floor. Wendy smiles as she claps her hands together, "Well, I gotta use the bathroom now. I'll catch up with you guys later!" she shouts over her shoulder as she walks out the door.

The remaining two stand in silence, the atmosphere thick and tense around them. Finally, after a few minutes, Bebe looks up, her mood as somber as her demeanor. "I don't want to crush Wendy's spirits, but there's no way Kyle is putting up Cartman. He obviously wants to take him to the end with him," Bebe says, preaching this information like it's gospel.

Tweek slowly nods, feeling his throat tightening up a bit as he acknowledges this truth. "I know," he dismally agrees, "And I feel bad because she's so convinced that Kyle's on our side that when she finds out he's not, she's going to be absolutely devastated."

"Well," Bebe states with a heavy sigh, "we'll be there to pick her up."

…

Tweek Tweak
Level-headed Sack of Coffee Beans

I really think Wendy is underestimating Kyle's strategic abilities here. He's not going to go after Cartman because that's terrible for his game. If I'm Kyle, there's no way I'd put Cartman on the block. He's a bigger threat right now than Kyle is and because he pisses off everybody in the house, everyone wants to take him to the end for an easy win. And if I was in Kyle's position, I'd rather take my final two chances with someone I know everyone hates than someone who has the potential to beat me.

But Wendy seems super confident that Kyle is going to put up me and Cartman tonight. Honestly, I don't like that scenario. Because anytime I'm on the block, there's potential for me to go home. So, I gotta think of something quick if I want to save myself. The girls are best friends and Cartman hates me, so I need to find some way to stay off the block or my game is over. And as much as I want to see Craig, I'm not going to walk out right after him. That's not how this story's going to end. It's going to end with me dancing on Cartman's grave and then riding off with Craig into the sunset. (clasps hands and dreamily sighs, pupils shining as he stares off into the distance) – Yes! Take me away, my hunky Peruvian Prince! (locks eyes with the camera and sweatdrops before awkwardly clearing his throat) – Can you just um, edit out that last part?

…

Meanwhile, Kyle and Cartman are sitting in the HOH room, meeting in secret for the first time that day. "Well, this is it. This is the delicious moment we've all been waiting for. Are you ready, Kahl? Are you ready to crush some hopes and dreams?" Cartman coos, a shit-eating smirk spread across his face.

Kyle stares down at the carpet and sighs. "I don't know, Cartman. You know how much I hate being the bad guy."

"Exactly! That's what makes this so fun, Kiel, cause those three idiots will never see it coming!" he exclaims, licking his lips in eager anticipation, "So, who are we putting up? Bebe and the spaz, right? I guess it doesn't matter, really. I mean, we both know who's the target."

Kyle gulps, the tenseness of the situation causing his throat to parch. "Yeah, we know," he states, completely oblivious to the shadow looming behind the closed door.

"Great! So, it's settled then. We'll dismantle the trio tonight!" Cartman beams, his stomach bubbling in joy, "Ooh! I can't wait to see their face when you seal their fate." Kyle looks to Cartman and nods, a sickening feeling stinging in his core.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Fart Lover

Tonight is such a pivotal moment and is going to determine my path to the end of this game. I have basically two options: either I split the trio – which I think is safe to assume at this point is a solid alliance – and give all of us a pretty even playing field, or I put up Cartman and take my chances with Wendy and Tweek. If I put up Cartman, I'm the house hero, but my chances to win plummet. And if I don't, then the trio will probably be pissed, but my chances to win skyrocket. Either way, after tonight, someone is going to hate me. And honestly, I'm a little worried that if I don't do what Cartman wants a second time, he's going to decide our alliance isn't worth it and plot to destroy me, whether he's here or in the jury house. But I'm not going to let fear influence my decision. I have to do what's best for me, cause God knows no one else will.

…

Tweek Tweak
Level-headed Sack of Coffee Beans

Well, we're on a sinking ship right now cause Cartman is still technically in power, so all three of us know it's every man or woman for themselves – at least for this week. Look, after that conversation I just heard, it's obvious that Kyle and Cartman are still working together, so I gotta come up with an effective plan to save myself. No matter what I do, I gotta make sure Kyle thinks it's his idea, so he doesn't know I'm onto him, he thinks he's in control, and he keeps me around. This week is the perfect opportunity for me to build a little trust with someone outside of my alliance. I mean, Kyle already confides in me a lot, so I think I may be able to use that bond to my advantage. Cause if I'm in good with Kyle too, I may be able to sneak into the final three no matter who wins HOH next week. And once I save my own ass, I can focus on saving Wendy's.

…

An hour before nominations, Kyle is sitting on his mattress in the HOH room, his door wide open as he habitually sorts through the items in his gift basket, his mind going a mile a minute. He perks his head up when he spies Tweek walking past the doorway. The blonde pokes his head in, holding a plated sandwich. "Hey, Kyle," Tweek greets with his usual cheerful tone, "I was just about to have lunch. Would you like some?"

"Yeah, um…but can you come in here for a second?" Kyle asks, Tweek cocking his eyebrow as he cautiously steps in. Kyle exhales as Tweek slowly closes the door behind him.

"So, what's up?" Tweek asks, after setting his sandwich on the end table. The blonde sits cross-legged on the floor and looks up at the HOH, Tweek's demeanor soft and nonthreatening.

Kyle looks down at Tweek and takes a deep breath, hoping to push away some of his anxieties. "Cartman – or, er, a lot of people – want me to put you and Bebe up tonight."

Tweek nods, staying as stoic as possible, "Well, is that what you want to do?"

"Well…if I'm being honest…no," Kyle states sincerely, Tweek tilting his forehead at this confession. "I do want to put Bebe up, but I'm conflicted on nominating you because I just think Wendy and Bebe are such a solid pair that it makes no sense not to put them up together. And if I only put Bebe on the block, there's a big chance that Wendy could force a tie and make me look like the bad guy when I have to cast the deciding vote to send her best friend home."

"Uh-huh," Tweek visibly nods, showing he is engaged in every word.

"But, I'm going to be honest here, I am a bit uneasy about nominating Wendy because even though she destroyed my letter, I still have some feelings for her."

"Well, you definitely know that if you keep Wendy off the block, Cartman's going to think you guys are a couple, and everyone knows what he does to couples here," Tweek shudders.

Kyle cocks his forehead, "You really think he'd put me up next week?"

"I don't know," Tweek shrugs, "All I know is that if you put her on the block with Bebe, she'll have at least one vote to keep her, then…"

"…then I can guarantee her safety and be the hero if the vote comes to a tie!" Kyle completes, his eyes shining in awed realization.

"Wow! That's a great plan, Kyle," Tweek chimes, smiling wide as he gazes admiringly up at him, "I would've never thought of that."

Kyle beams, basking in his accomplishment. "Thanks, Tweek!"

Tweek nods before sitting up from the carpet. He turns his back to Kyle, flashing a smile at the camera as he grabs his sandwich and walks out the HOH room door, proud of his superb performance. Tweek turns to one of the cameras in the hallway and does twinkle fingers in front of it. "Acting!" he mouths.

…

Tweek Tweak
Acting Prodigy

I think our talk went pretty well. I asked questions and then trailed off, so he thinks he came up with the plan on his own, I sat on the carpet below him so he'd psychologically view me as beneath him and thus non-threatening, and I even got him to call me into the room to vent by just poking my head in and reminding him that I exist. (pauses, noticing that Token is eerily silent. Tweek shrugs and stares blankly at the camera) – What? Oh, that's right, I never told these people that my degree is in Cognitive Science. Huh. I wonder why? (taps chin and smirks)

…

Kyle Broflovski
Middle Man

Well, it's five minutes before nominations and I feel like I am going to vomit up my stomach. This game is all about positioning and so far, I've done a great job of keeping myself in the sweet spot, where I'm here but nobody's really thinking of targeting me. This week, I'm going to have to decide who I'm more afraid of: Bebe or Cartman, and just how much I'm willing to risk to get them out.

…

Tweek Tweak
Acting Prodigy

Really? You're talking to me again already? I was just in here! But, sure, I'll come up with something to talk about. (claps hands and tisks) – Oh, well, you'll be happy to hear that I started taking better care of myself now that Craig is gone. I take my medication now, which would be great if it didn't occasionally give me terrible headaches. Unfortunately, this morning I dropped my last contact lens in the toilet, so I have to wear my dorky backup glasses now. But Craig says I look cute in these, so maybe I can use that to my advantage somehow. (laughs and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose)

…

A few minutes later, Tweek arrives at the dining room table, glasses in tow, and takes a seat across from the fatass. Cartman brings his hand up to his mouth, trying to unsuccessfully muffle his obnoxious laughter. "What's with the glasses, dork?" Cartman wonders, peering at the bright red, square glasses that are gracing Tweek's face.

Tweek sighs and stares shamefully down at the table top, "I dropped my contact lens in the toilet."

Cartman erupts into laughter, throwing his head down on the table in theatrics and hitting the surface of it with his palms like he's reacting to a slapstick comedy show, his boisterous laugh suffocating the room. Wendy and Bebe both turn to Cartman and cross their arms, both equally annoyed by his antics as Kyle nervously enters the premises.

The redhead sighs as he stops at the head of the table, everyone instantly hushing at his entrance. Cartman sits back in his seat and clears his throat, stifling his laughter to prepare to watch the show.

"Hi, everyone. As you know, tonight is the nomination ceremony and as HOH, I must nominate two people for banishment," Kyle begins, feeling like he is talking to prisoners on death row, "This isn't easy, and I'm sure all of you know that. That's why I sincerely hope that there are no hard feelings. This is just a game and I'm trying to win, just like I'm sure all of you are too," Kyle pauses, his legs shaking as he prepares to deliver the news, "That being said, this week, I nominate Bebe and Wendy," Wendy's jaw dropping in shock at this announcement while Bebe simply nods in understanding beside her, "There's no denying that you two are close, so strategically, it makes the most sense to split you. We saw this last week with Tweek and Craig, so I sincerely hope that this wasn't a total surprise to either of you. And…that's it. Meeting adjourned," he states, knocking twice on the table before heading back towards the HOH room.

Cartman leans back in his chair, his grin envying the Cheshire Cat's as he basks in the girls' destruction. Wendy sits perfectly still, the raven utterly blindsided as a look of betrayal makes its home on her face. Next to her, Bebe is consolingly patting her shoulder while Tweek sadly looks on.

…

"It's because of the letter, isn't it? That's why you put me on the block!" Wendy screams, entering the HOH room moments after her shock wore off.

Kyle stiffens and widens his eyes, jumping in his seat on the bed at his friend's sudden entrance. He turns towards the door, his expression softening. "No, it's not," Kyle answers honestly, "That has nothing to do with my decision, okay? It's just a game. This is just strategy. You and Bebe are the stronger pair, so I have to split you. Cartman did this last week with Tweek and Craig."

"So, you had to follow Cartman, huh? Do you really think that fatass is going to look out for you?" she cries, fire blazing through her veins, "Cause you and I both know that Cartman only cares about himself!" Wendy turns towards him. Kyle opens his mouth, about to speak, but Wendy cuts him off again and throws her palms up, "That's it! I'm done! We're done, Kyle! You've made your decision. Have fun being Cartman's bitch!"

Kyle sighs, trying his best to calm her down through gentle tone and logical reasoning, "Wendy-"

"I just can't believe that you would do this!" Wendy continues, angrily pacing the floor, "I can't believe that you would keep a man who disrespects virtually everyone in the house because you want easy money! I thought you were better than that."

Kyle scrunches his forehead, her words igniting a rage inside him that he didn't know was there. "So now I'm supposed to feel bad for trying to win?" he counters, standing up to face her, "You didn't feel bad when you voted for me Week 2, or when you put me on the block against Stan!"

Wendy stops in place and sighs, "That's different."

Kyle grits his teeth, starting to lose his patience, "Why?" he hisses.

"Because…I did the right thing when I was HOH: the piece of shit went home. But when you're HOH, you target the lovable garbage disposal and the two best friends!" Wendy cries, trying to suppress the tears from forming in her eyes, "You know, when I put Stan up, it was a favor to you. The least you could've done is repaid me!"

"You forfeited the right to ask favors from me the second you went through my stuff!" Kyle fumes.

Wendy snaps her head around, her mouth forming an O-shape at this confession, "So this is about the letter!"

"It's not about the letter specifically, it's about you invading my privacy and making everything worse!" Kyle cries, his voice ricocheting into the living room, "Come on Wendy, you know how emotionally fragile I am right now. Don't you think I have enough to deal with as it is?"

Wendy sighs, "I said I was sorry-"

"Great," Kyle cuts in, snapping like a rubber band, "But sorry doesn't get my letter back, does it?"

"So, what do you want me to do?" Wendy wonders, throwing her arms, feeling the frustration rolling down her shoulders, "I can't just pull your letter from the ashes and reconstruct it!"

"It's not about the goddamn letter, Wendy!" Kyle steams, the redhead teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown, "It's that you don't respect me. You come in here after destroying one of my possessions and just expect me to cater to your every will. Don't you see how backwards this whole thing is?!"

Wendy stands in silence, her hopes deflating as she stares into his eyes, "I just thought that-"

"That what? I'm a pushover?" he challenges.

"No," Wendy sighs, "That we were on the same side. That you wanted to help us. But clearly, that isn't true." Kyle gazes down at the floor and sighs. Wendy cautiously takes a step forward, "Kyle, this may be surprising for you to hear right now, but I really am rooting for you. But I can't support you knowing what you've become."

"And what have I become?" Kyle half-heartedly humors her, eyes still glued to the floor.

Wendy sighs, knowing her next word is going to hurt, "Cartman."

Kyle quickly snaps his head up and glares at her, "I am not Cartman."

"Not yet," Wendy states sternly, "but if you keep bending to his will and doing all his dirty work, pretty soon, you will be. And once you've become that, you're done, cause no one respects a bully."

Kyle turns towards the wall, his back to his crush, her words haunting him more than he'd care to admit. "Just go away, Wendy. You don't know what you're talking about," he states. His words are firm, but the fight isn't there.

"Fine," Wendy huffs, unable to believe how childish he's being, "But Week 9, when you're sitting there in the finals, I hope you think back to this moment when you lose by one vote," she says, delivering this parting blow before she storms into the living room, slamming the door shut so aggressively that it almost flies off its hinges.

Kyle stands meekly in the middle of the carpet, completely drained and out of words to say.

…

Bebe Stevens
Blonde Badass

Well, Wendy and I have officially been banished to the block by the great and powerful HOH's henchman, and I can't say I didn't see this coming. But one of the things I love so much about this game is that things are constantly changing: Just when you think you're out, something pulls you back in.

…

Early the next morning, Bebe is sitting at the kitchen island, eating her favorite breakfast: waffles with strawberry jam. She perks up slightly when she hears a voice whispering out to her from behind the refrigerator. "Bebe! Bebe!" a voice that sounds like the resident fatass' chimes.

Bebe cocks her forehead as she stares down at Cartman, who is crouched beside the monstrous appliance, giving it a hug. "What do you want, Cartman?" she wonders.

"I need to talk to you. Meet me in the boys room in five minutes!" he instructs. Bebe watches as Cartman heaves himself up. He grabs some nearby papers and tosses them up, making ghostly noises as he walks backwards towards the hallway. Bebe lifts her eyebrow when he starts doing twinkle fingers in front of his torso.

Once he exits, Bebe sighs and rolls her eyes. "What a dumbass," she mutters.

…

Five minutes later, Bebe tentatively steps into the boys room, on high alert for any potential trickery from Cartman. The fatass smiles when he sees her, the former sitting tautly on his bed. "Well, well, well, so you decided to come crawling in, Bebe," he taunts, a sassy glimmer in his eyes, "I can't say I'm surprised. After all, you're desperate."

"Uh-huh," Bebe begins, folding her arms over her chest, "Yet you're the one who called me in here. So, why exactly did you want to meet with me?"

"Well, I'll be honest," Cartman replies, straightening his back up against the wall as he gazes up at her, "As much as I hate you, I still think we can help each other tonight. So, here's what I'm proposing: I'll cast my vote for Wendy, forcing the tie, which, after that huge blowout fight yesterday, could turn out in your favor. And if you survive, you don't put me up next week."

Bebe narrows her eyes at him, the blonde badass still skeptical of Cartman's sudden goodwill, "I don't trust you."

"And that's smart. You shouldn't," Cartman smirks, "But right now, I'm the only chance you got, cause you and I both know that Spazzy McSpaz is voting to evict you," he pauses, watching as Bebe's gaze trails to the carpet, "Just think of this as a lifeline, Bebe. I'll give you life in this game, and you'll repay me the favor later. But tell anyone about this, and the lifeline is gone. This only works if the rest of the house is kept in the dark. So, what do you say? Are you ready to play?"

Bebe turns to the blank wall, feeling crazy for even considering taking the offer. Finally, after a few moments of emotional badminton, she turns to Cartman and curtly nods. "Alright. I'm in."

…

Fifteen minutes later, Bebe is back sitting in the girls room, still pondering over her life choices after accepting a deal from Cartman. Bebe looks to Tweek, who is sitting on his mattress across the room, humming as he hugs Craig's hat to his chest. An endearing smile spreads on Bebe's face as she gets up and approaches him. "Hey, Tweek," Bebe greets, her voice gentle and kind, "I know I'm most likely falling on deaf ears here, but I really hope that you'll at least think about throwing me a vote tonight – or, er, casting your vote for Wendy. You know what I mean," Bebe lightheartedly corrects. Tweek pulls down the hat slightly and nods, "But even if you don't, you know I had fun here and you played a big part in that, so…thanks for everything."

Tweek nods, tearing up a bit at Bebe's sentimentality, "You're welcome," he squeaks, before pulling his friend into a warm hug.

…

Bebe Stevens
Blonde Badass

Well, I tried my best, but I knew going into it that I didn't have a shot. Tweek is going to stay loyal to Wendy no matter what, so I guess this is what I get for being well-adjusted. (sighs)

…

Meanwhile, in the HOH room, Kyle is sitting on his grand mattress, staring out at Cartman. The fatass is joyfully singing a Lady Gaga song under his breath while he picks at his fingernails. Kyle sighs as he holds his hand up to his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Cartman. Cartman?" Kyle grumbles, "Cartman!"

Cartman springs up in his seat, merely falling out of his lounge chair in the process, "Jesus Christ! What, Kahl?"

Kyle sighs as he clasps his hands, setting them gently on his lap while he struggles to find the right words to begin this, "I think we need to talk. I've noticed this past week that you've been angering a lot of the other houseguests, and I think it's important that we address this issue now and do some damage control before it spirals into something worse."

Cartman huffs and crosses his chubby forearms, immediately jumping on the defensive, "Wait. Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone. They're angered by me? I have never offended anyone in my life, Kiel!" Cartman scoffs, quirking an eyebrow when he sees Kyle turning expectantly towards the ceiling, "Why are you staring off into space?"

Kyle jerks his head back, quickly shaking himself out of it, "Sorry. I was just waiting for the montage," he states, filtering through a sigh, "But come on, Cartman, you and I both know that you're not the nicest person in the world…"

"What?!" Cartman shrieks, his tone so high-pitched that it almost breaks the window, "I've done nice things! Remember when I wore that sweater?"

"Wearing a nice sweater isn't the same thing as being nice, Cartman!" Kyle barks, his headache starting to make an appearance.

Cartman glowers, "And what about when I threw you that goodbye party?"

Kyle rolls his eyes, "That was a party celebrating me moving to San Francisco…and you didn't even invite me!"

"Only because I absolutely despise your existence," Cartman states, attempting to convey this as a compliment.

Kyle lowers his eyebrow in a glare, arms crossed, "I'm just saying, it wouldn't kill you to be a little nicer to everyone."

Cartman narrows his eyes at Kyle, the pair facing off in a rather-intense stare down. Finally, after so much glaring his face is starting to hurt, Cartman lets up and flings his eyes up at the ceiling. "Alright, I'll try, Myem," he states mockingly.

…

An hour later, Wendy is standing in the storage room, angrily pacing in front of her two friends, who are growing dizzy just looking at her. "I just can't believe it!" Wendy cries, even more fired up than she was after the nomination announcement, "How could Kyle just put us up against each other and make us fight for this? It's just not fair!"

Bebe sighs, exchanging glances with Tweek, who is leaning up against the wall beside her, before turning back to her pacing bestie, "Sometimes life isn't fair, Wendy. That's just the way it is," she somberly admits, selfishly more for herself than for Wendy, "But come on, you guys shouldn't be mourning me, you should be figuring out what you're going to do next because it's going to take close to a miracle to break up Kyman. And I'd really like the winner of this thing to be standing in this room right now," she adds shamelessly, "You know I'll always go up to bat for you guys, so you better promise me that you're going to try your very best to pull this off," she states, giving a smirk as she turns to the blonde, who is timidly staring at the carpet, "And I'm talking to you too, Tweek, not just my BFF," she grins. Tweek perks up slightly and nods. "Well, as much as I would like to stay here powwowing with you two forever, we should really get ready for the eviction ceremony," Bebe states with a sigh. Tweek and Wendy nod and head towards the door.

Bebe watches them, waiting until Tweek exits before reaching her arm out and holding her best friend back, Wendy freezing in shock at her touch. Bebe delicately holds Wendy at the doorway, her voice a sullen whisper. "Wendy, it may be too late for me, but it's not too late for you. If you want any chance at the money, you need to find a way to split Kyman quick, or you and Tweek are going to be out back-to-back," she tells her, Wendy soaking in her every word, "I mean it, Wendy, you need to win HOH next week-" Bebe pauses suddenly, swiftly scanning the area before whispering her final words, "-cause we both know Tweek won't."

Wendy nods understandingly, sniffling as she pulls her best friend – both in the house and in the outside world – into a hug. Bebe smiles as she wraps her arms around her.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Heartbroken Wreck

These past few days have been hell. I barely slept at all last night, and you saw what happened yesterday between me and Wendy. All I want now is a peaceful eviction ceremony: no drama, just a straight-forward vote. As much as I would love to be the hero for someone, I'm really hoping tonight doesn't come to a tie, so I won't have to put the final nail in the coffin for anyone.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Green-hat-hating Rights Activist

I'm so nervous for tonight. Bebe and I are both on the block, and after my fight with Kyle earlier, I'm not sure he would save me if this vote comes to a tie. In fact, I'm almost positive that he would cut me, so that's why I spent all day trying to secure the vote. But as much as it pains me to admit this, my fate is in Cartman's hands. If he forces the tie by voting to evict me, I don't think I'll survive. And at this point, it would physically hurt me to go out because of Kyman…although I guess it would be poetic justice.

…

That evening, all five of the remaining houseguests are gathered in the living room, awaiting Token's instructions. The two nominees – Bebe and Wendy – are sitting on the two lush lounge chairs while their housemates sit on the surrounding sofas, the sofas looking almost empty compared to Week 1.

"I'm back!" Token enthusiastically sings over the loudspeaker, "Did everybody miss me?" a cricket chirps from the windowsill. "It's okay. I can just play my own applause, thank you very much," Token sasses, pressing the applause button on his panel. A fake crowd cheers over the loudspeakers. "Thank you, thank you! I love you all!" Token boasts, giving a small bow before turning back to the disgruntled houseguests. "Hello, everyone, and welcome to the sixth eviction ceremony this season. By now, I'm sure you all know how it works, but I will keep explaining it for all of our first-time viewers," he states with a smile, "One by one, I will call each of the two eligible houseguests to the diary room to cast their votes for eviction. As always, the two nominees, Bebe and Wendy, are ineligible to vote and the HOH, Kyle, will only vote in the event of a tie." Kyle gulps from his seat next to Cartman. "Before we get to it, I am going to give the two nominees one last chance to sway some votes in their favors. Bebe, as the block veteran, I am going to start with you."

"Alright, thank you, Token, and thank you, everybody," Bebe begins, clearing her throat a bit and clasping her hands together before continuing, "I just want to thank all of you for this wonderful opportunity. I had so much fun here, and you know how much of a competitor I am in my everyday life, so this experience was a dream for me. But I'm not done playing yet, so as much as I love my girl Wendy here, I would be so grateful if you voted to keep me, and if not, I wish you guys the best. Thank you."

"Okay. Nice one, Bebe," Token compliments, before turning to the raven-haired nominee, "Wendy, you're up next."

"Great! Hi, everyone," Wendy states, giving a curt wave, "This is my first time on the block this season, and I'm up against my best friend, which is heartbreaking. I know my game wasn't perfect and I've made a lot of mistakes here, but I'm hoping that you guys can look past it, and we can all move forward together. A lot of amazing people have sat in these seats and lived to see another day in this game, and I'm hoping that tonight I can become one of them. So, yeah…that's it."

"That's it, indeed," Token chimes in, "And with that, it is time to vote. Tweek, you're up first. Please head to the diary room."

Tweek nods and sits up from his seat, the girls watching him until he exits out of sight. Tweek swings open the diary room door and takes a seat on the sofa, his expression mournful as he faces the camera.

Tweek Tweak
Level-headed Sack of Coffee Beans

Having to choose between two friends is like choosing which leg to cut off. I love her dearly, but sadly, I vote to evict Bebe.

Tweek exits the diary room and plops down on the sofa, his gaze glued to the floor.

"Alright, Cartman. Finish us off-whoa! Careful there, Token. That almost sounded wrong again," Token scolds himself as Cartman rolls his eyes. He heaves himself off the sofa and waddles into the diary room, the gleeful expression not leaving his face since the ceremony began.

Eric Cartman
Devious Fatass/TV Gold

You know what? I was originally going to vote to evict Bebe so I could be the one to crush her hopes and dreams, but I actually think I'm going to force the tie. I want to test Kyle's loyalty and watch the hope drain from one of the girl's eyes as their world comes crashing down courtesy of our good friend Kyle. He's been trying to play everybody's best buddy for far too long; it's time he got a little blood on his hands. (smirks smugly) – I vote to evict Miss Wendy Testaburger.

Cartman exits the diary room, flashing a million-dollar smirk as he plops himself back down on the sofa, Kyle nervously biting his lip as he trails him with his eyes. Cartman leans back, sighing in satisfaction as he rests his head on his hands, preparing to watch the show.

"Alright, everyone. The votes are in. As always, once I reveal the results of the vote, the evicted houseguest will have one minute to gather her belongings and walk out the front door," Wendy and Bebe both hold their breaths as Token pauses for dramatic effect, "For the third time this season, we have a tie…with one vote Bebe and one vote Wendy," Kyle and Tweek both look up and exchange puzzled glances across the coffee table, "Kyle, that means as HOH, you must cast the deciding vote. So, whenever you're ready, please tell the group your decision."

"Wow. Hey, guys," Kyle greets after slowly pulling himself off the sofa, "I honestly wasn't expecting to have to do this today, but I guess this is just how the game goes. I think you're both worthy competitors, but one of you terrifies me much more than the other does." Kyle gazes out at the nominees. Bebe is staring at him apprehensively while Wendy is too terrified to even face him. Kyle gently cups his fist and sighs, "That's why today, I vote to evict you, Bebe."

Bebe nods, taking the news like a champ, as she stands up and gives her best friend a hug, the raven shaking in shock. "I'm sorry, Bebe, but with a vote of 2-1, you have been evicted from the Big Brother house," Token announces over the loudspeaker, making it official.

"Thanks for everything, you guys," Bebe states while Wendy and Tweek walk her to the door. She pulls each of them into a hug before grabbing her duffel bag and swinging it over her shoulder, "Good luck, and do some ass-kicking for me!" she exclaims, Tweek giving a small smile at her well-wishes.

Wendy breaks down crying as Bebe slides on her pink designer sunglasses, flicks her beige cashmere scarf over her shoulder, and sashays out the door in her heels, leaving as fashionably as she came in. Tweek wraps an arm around Wendy.

"Congratulations, you've all made it to the final four," Token's thunderous voice chimes above them. Kyle and Cartman curiously enter the hallway to join the two friends, "But just because you've reached the homestretch doesn't mean this competition is going to get any easier."

Cartman stomps his foot like a toddler, "Oh come on, Token!" he whines.

"So, prepare yourselves for the most strenuous two weeks of your lives!" Token announces, a hint of sass in his tone, "Once you reach the end of this tunnel of torture, two of you will emerge and win some serious mullah."

"Wait, what?" Kyle squeaks, almost knocked off his feet by this plot twist.

"Oh, I guess I failed to mention earlier that the runner-up gets some prize money too," Token coyly chimes, "The person who comes in second place will win $50,000, which is nothing to sneeze at given third place's prize of exactly zero," he pauses, licking his lips slightly, "Let's see if this new information changes anything in the house. Remember, you gotta make big moves if you want to win this game. Goodnight, everybody!"

Token buzzes out. The houseguests stand in silence in the hallway, blankly staring at each other.

"Huh, would you look at that?" Cartman speaks up, stroking his chin as he mulls this new piece of information over, the gears already turning in his devious brain, "That sure is something…"

Wendy turns to Kyle and tenderly pulls him into a hug, the redhead's skin immediately prickling at the contact. "Thank you, Kyle," she whispers.

"Yeah, sure…no problem," he mutters, as emotionless as possible.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Cold-Blooded Ginger/The Next Cartman?

I kept Wendy over Bebe tonight. It wasn't love; it was strategy. Bebe's the stronger player. And now that Wendy has knowingly wronged me, I think she'll be more willing to spare me than Bebe would have. Wendy destroyed one of my personal belongings and chewed me out last night, so now my feelings for her are officially over. As of this moment, I am 100% focused on winning this game. And I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to make sure that happens. There can only be one winner, and it's going to be me. (stares determinedly forward, his eyes piercing into the camera lens) I hope you guys are ready for a battle.

Chapter Text

Super early the next morning, Tweek is perched on his makeshift double bed, latching onto a butterfly net for dear life as he surveys the dimly-lit bedroom around him. Tweek flinches slightly as his eyes land on Wendy, who is fast asleep in her bed across the room. Wendy sniffs and turns over, her back facing the wall, a red, pointy hat rising behind her neck. Tweek screams and springs into action, wildly swinging the net at full force. Wendy snaps awake, letting out a shriek of her own when Tweek throws the net over her head, the mish-mash of the dim lighting and the shadows making Tweek's face look almost demonic.

"Tweek! What the hell are you doing?" Wendy yelps, attempting to wiggle out of her covers, "Have you lost your mind?!"

"They're here, Wendy. I know it," Tweek states with conviction.

Wendy frays her eyebrow, "Who?"

"The underwear gnomes!" Tweek cries, "They know I'm here. And now that Craig's gone, they know I'm vulnerable. And I can't let them take any more of my underwear. A few more pairs and they'll be on the path to world domination!"

Wendy groans, lowering her gaze to the floor with a huff. "Look, it's not that I don't believe you, but no part of what you just said makes any sense. Now can you please get this net off me?"

Tweek sniffs, his pupils widening into the classic puppy-dog look. "But-but Wendy-"

Wendy screams as she feels a set of tiny pin teeth sinking into her arm. The friends shriek as a voracious underwear gnome attempts to hang onto the limb, the raven vigorously trying to shake him off.

"Don't eat my friend, you sad excuse for a Santa!" Tweek barks, striking the gnome over the head with his net handle. The mystical creature moans and flops to the floor.

"Holy shit, you weren't kidding," Wendy gasps, her mouth agape as she nurses her injured arm. "And all this time, I just thought you were crazy."

"Oh, I am," Tweek wholeheartedly admits with a smile, "Just not about this," he nods.

Wendy sighs, wincing slightly as she runs her fingers over the tiny bite marks in her arm, "Well, what are we going to do about it?"

"We?" Tweek repeats, cocking his forehead at the sincerity of Wendy's words, "Wait. You mean you want to help me with this?"

"Of course," Wendy says, stating this like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "I mean, that little idiot did gnaw on my arm, so…I kinda feel like I need to get revenge. So, do we set some kind of trap or something? I think I have some hairspray around here somewhere," she adds, quickly scanning the floor for her duffel bag. She slips out of bed and crouches down in front of it. "How do you usually get rid of them?"

"Well, they used to come every night until I started sleeping with Craig," Tweek stops suddenly, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment as he fiddles with his fingers, "He accidentally killed one of them when he flung his shoe across the room in a, uh, moment of passion. I wasn't the only one mentally-scarred that night," he quips, giving a small nose laugh.

"Uh-huh," Wendy jadedly begins, unsure of how to respond to this, "So…they hate shoes and mentally-scarring images, huh? Well, maybe we can work with that," she replies, reaching down and grabbing a pencil and a sheet of paper. She crosses her legs as she plops back down on her mattress, "Here. Let's brainstorm," she smiles.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Misguided Know-it-all

Last night, the vote unexpectedly came to a tie, and I had to personally send Bebe to the jury house. This means that either Cartman or Tweek lied to me before the vote, and honestly, I'm having a hard time believing that Cartman didn't throw me under the bus. I mean, we all know he has firsthand experience with it.

…

Later that morning, Kyle is sitting on his queen-sized mattress in the HOH room, looking utterly exhausted after calling Cartman into the room to talk. "I'm telling you, it was Tweek, dude," Cartman states from the lounge chair, opening his eyes wider in a feeble attempt at innocence, "He switched. Tweek totally switched and voted for Wendy."

Kyle frowns, "That doesn't make any sense," he states, "Those two are like glue."

"But even glue comes apart sometimes, Kahl," Cartman remarks, snapping his fingers and giving him a point, "He probably wanted to get rid of her because she reminded him too much of his boyfriend."

"Yeah…right," Kyle coos, his tone laced with disbelief.

…

Eric Cartman
Delusional Fatass

Kahl is such an idiot. He still doesn't see that I'm the one who switched. All I wanted was to create a little friction between Kiel and the rest of the house, and it looks like I succeeded.

…

"I didn't switch. He's lying to you," Tweek confirms, the redhead meeting with him in the girls room a meager three minutes after Cartman lied to his face.

Kyle sighs from his spot next to Tweek on the double bed. "See, that's what I thought. He's such a terrible liar," Kyle shakes his head, staring down at the carpet.

"Yeah…" Tweek agrees, unwavering and confident. Tweek's face softens as he turns to Kyle, the HOH's expression bleak and defeated. "So, um, how are you doing?"

Kyle groans and numbly picks at his nails, too drained to even make eye contact with his fellow housemate, "Well, half of the house hates me now, so I'm fantastic," he sarcastically remarks.

"Come on, it's not that bad. I don't hate you," Tweek assures him, "and I don't think Wendy does either…at least, not deep down," he states, his tone warm and comforting. Kyle perks up slightly as he says this, a small smile looming on his face as he gazes up at the blonde.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Misguided Know-it-all

Damn…Tweek's good. Sometimes I can't tell if he's just playing me or if he genuinely cares about me, but then I remember that it's Tweek, the guy who can't go five minutes without either Craig or a cup of coffee and is afraid of his own shadow, so there's obviously no strategy there. Which is good, cause if there was, I would probably be sunk.

…

Early that afternoon, Tweek and Wendy are sitting side by side on the floor of their secret meeting spot in the storage room, the pair drained as they lament over their failings and their seemingly-hopeless circumstance. "I'm not even having fun here anymore," Tweek admits, his eyes glued to the tile.

"Were we ever since Kyman came to power?" Wendy grunts, loosely tracing a small pattern onto the floorboard.

"Good point," Tweek replies, giving a hefty sigh, "I miss him so much."

"I know. I miss her too, and we didn't even have that romantic connection, so I can only imagine what you're going through," Wendy says, hoping to offer some solace while she peeks over at her friend, "But they wouldn't want us to be upset over this. We have to keep going. This game isn't over yet."

…

Tweek Tweak
Hopeless Coffee Bean

I want to leave; I want to go to that jury house so bad, but Wendy's right, I can't give in. Because then this whole thing – all the loneliness and all the suffering I've been through these last ten days without Craig – would be worthless. And it'd be worthless on his end too. I can't give up because I'm doing this for him. And as long as there is a breath left in my body, I'm going to fight until I'm either voted out, or Token declares me the winner.

…

An hour later, Kyle is moseying into the living room, exhausted out of his mind after a morning filled with mental trickery from his fellow alliance member and an afternoon filled with restless sleep. Kyle turns to a nearby camera, hoping to wake himself up a bit with some semi-amusing commentary. "There's this painting of Token hanging above the mantle that, no matter where you're sitting, always looks like it's watching you. It's really creepy," Kyle narrates, pausing to gesture over the fireplace. He glances up at the mantle, only to find it, and the surrounding area, completely decked out in Christmas decorations. Stockings are hanging above the fireplace, a Christmas tree is set up by the large back window, and Christmas lights are strung up on the living room ceiling. Even the portrait of Token above the mantle is sporting a Santa hat and wearing a light-up ugly Christmas sweater. Kyle stops back, stunned by the abrupt change in décor. Kyle looks to the camera, utterly dumbfounded by the sight, "Isn't it August?" he questions.

Suddenly, Cartman strolls into the living room, whistling a happy tune as he saunters over to his nemesis. "Hey, Kyle. I just dropped my deodorant in the toilet, can I use your hat to fish it out?" Cartman gazes up, his eyes bulging at the Christmas decorations, "Whoa! What the fuck is this?!" Cartman cries, jumping back like the stockings are about to bite him.

"That's right! 'Tis the season, everybody!" Token's voice chimes over the loudspeaker, the mere volume of Token's boisterous voice causing Tweek and Wendy to join the others in intrigue, "It's the season of giving, and since this episode is re-airing close to Christmas, I thought I'd give everyone the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to shop at the Big Brother Boutique!"

Kyle cocks his forehead, "What's the Big Brother Boutique?" he wonders.

"I'm glad you asked, Cartman."

"I'm Kyle," he frowns.

"Right," Token chimes, giving a hearty Santa-esque chuckle. A few of the houseguests raise their eyebrows. Token awkwardly clears his throat, "Anyway, the Big Brother Boutique is an in-house shop where you can get free clothing items and accessories, since you all desperately need better fashion sense," he quips, basking in the peeved glowers wallowing below him, "You will have two minutes to grab as many items as you can. I actually tried to pick items that each of you would like, so try to scrounge for your section. Anything that is attached to your body at the end of the allotted time, you are allowed to keep."

"Sweet," Cartman choruses, looking pleased for the first time since Token spoke.

"Yes, for once I agree with you, Cartman," Token smirks, rubbing his hands together like he's putting on hand sanitizer, "But, of course, like all things in the Big Brother house, this gift comes with a price."

Cartman stomps his foot, "What the fuck, Token? I thought you said this was the season of giving!"

"I did," Token snappily replies, "And that's why, in order to participate, all of you must give me something in return. To shop at the boutique, you must all hand over your most-prized possession. For each one I receive, you will add thirty seconds to the group's shopping trip," he smiles, pausing a bit to stare down at the houseguests, who are all sporting expressions filled with pure dread, "So, here are the items that I want: Cartman, I want your framed picture of Mr. Kitty. Kyle, I want the letter from your ex-girlfriend. Tweek, I want Craig's hat. And Wendy, I want your fuchsia beanie."

Wendy gently raises her hand as Kyle and Cartman start whispering amongst themselves behind her. "What are you going to do with them?"

"Yeah," Kyle steps forward, clearly annoyed, "Are you going to give them back or something?"

"Nope!" Token beams, "We're going to burn all of your prized possessions in a satanic ritual that we will be hosting tonight," he states, delivering this news in the typical, upbeat asshole-ish fashion, "So, will you do it?" All the houseguests stare at each other, too scared to speak first. "Alright, I'll tell you what. I'll just go down the line and ask each one of you separately what you want to do here. So, Wendy, will you burn your hat for the group?"

Wendy sighs, nervously wringing her hands as she stares down at the carpet, "Um, I would prefer not to," she answers meagerly, afraid of potentially facing judgy glares from the group, "I am somewhat attached to this outfit."

"Fair enough," Token nods, Wendy's fellow houseguests surprisingly sympathetic to her, "Tweek?" the host wonders.

Tweek shakes his head firmly, hugging his trembly body, "I am not burning Craig's hat," he states, "It's his call, and he wouldn't want me to."

"Tweek's right. Burning someone else's belongings is heartless and cruel," Kyle fires, shooting a glare at Wendy as he crosses his arms in a huff.

Token sighs, "So, I'm guessing that means you're not giving me the letter, huh, Kyle?"

"No."

"Well, I guess it all comes down to Cartman then," Token says, clasping his hands together and staring down at the very being he despises the most, "Cartman, will you give me the photo of Mr. Kitty?"

Cartman turns to the others, a strange, imperceptible glint in his eyes. "If I burn my belongings, will you let them keep theirs?" he asks with some quality resembling heart. Everyone snaps their heads around, mouths gaping at the normally-cold fatass' response.

"Whoa, what the hell is happening?" Token chimes, saying what all the other houseguests are probably thinking, "Is Cartman being unselfish? I didn't even think this was physically possible!" he raves, "Wow, okay. Just because of that, I'm not making anybody give me anything. You can all shop at the store, just – holy hell, I can't believe this is actually happening," the host gasps, reduced to nothing short of pure shock, "I need to sit down for a moment…"

A loud thump rings above them as the host flops onto the carpet of his executive suite. Kyle turns to Cartman, still speechless by his rival's gesture. Cartman laughs and shakes his head at him.

"Oh, don't act so surprised," he boasts.

…

Early that evening, the four remaining houseguests are standing on the back porch, anxiously awaiting Token's invitation to the Big Brother Boutique. Cartman sighs, rolling his eyes up to the clouds as he impatiently taps his foot on the concrete. "Man, what is taking him so long? It's not like he's setting the whole thing up himself, I mean, WE KNOW YOU HAVE TWENTY ASSISTANTS, TOKEN!" Cartman shouts, aggressively pressing his face up against the window.

"-And he's back to the same old Cartman. Thank God," Kyle mutters, scooting by the fatass while he paces on the patio.

"So Tweek, what are you going to get at the boutique?" Wendy asks, the pair standing a few feet away from the others.

Tweek shrugs. "I don't know. I'm hoping I can get some more button-ups. I'm down to fifteen."

"Dude, why do you even wear button-ups if you can't button them correctly?" Cartman bluntly wonders, asking the question that everyone is pondering but too scared to bring up themselves.

"Well, I would wear regular t-shirts, but I always get my head stuck in the neck hole," Tweek answers, nervously scratching his forearm. Cartman cackles.

"Alright, everyone. It's time for the moment you've all been waiting for – and no, Cartman, I'm not talking about your eviction," Token quips, unable to mask the snarkiness in his tone, "It's time for your four-minute shopping trip at the Big Brother Boutique! Now everybody pile in here before I change my mind," he announces, the houseguests quickly following his instructions. They step into the living room and hover towards the racks, which have been set up in a circle where the sofas used to be, "Remember, you'll all have four minutes to grab as many items as you can and to drape them on some part of your body. The timer will start when I say 'go'. Not that go but another go, and-aww, forget it! I'll just count you guys down," Token concludes, easing the sea of confused faces. "Three…two…one…go shop, you weirdos!"

The four houseguests bolt towards the large racks of clothing and immediately start piling items on their bodies. "Oh my God, they even have shoes!" Wendy beams, gazing down at a table filled with high heels. She sniffs as she picks up a cute pair with a shiny silver strap, "Bebe would've loved this."

"Hey, look, yew guys, I'm Kyle!" Cartman chimes, putting on a sky-blue trapper hat and tugging the side flaps over his ears.

"Cartman, get out of Kyle's section," Token grumbles.

"Um…question," Tweek states, meagerly holding his hand up, a dozen shirts already wrapped around his arms, "Why is my section filled with rainbow prints and shirts with coffee puns?"

"Wow, Token. Way to reduce Tweek to his stereotypes," Cartman remarks, stacking a few more Kyle-esque hats on his head. "Now I'm triple Kyle!" he announces.

Kyle shakes his head from the opposite end of the rack, "Cartman, I swear to God…"

Five minutes later, the final four are hanging out on the back patio, proudly showcasing their new outfits to the cameras. Wendy smiles as she parks herself down on one of the lounge chairs, stripping off the seven dresses she wrapped around her arms. "I can't believe I got twenty-three new items and only fourteen of them were shoes!"

"I can," Tweek beams, detaching a few items from his forearms as well, "You're a master shopper."

"Cartman, I still can't understand why you got nothing but hats," Kyle states, staring peculiarly up at the ten brightly-colored trapper hats that are stacked on his rival's head.

"That's not true. I also got this sweet pendant of my face!" Cartman exclaims, holding up the pendant that is draped around his neck. The pendant is a giant, three-inch sterling silver cutout of Cartman's face. Cartman gazes admiringly down at it, "Yeah, I am gorgeous," he sighs. Kyle rolls his eyes.

"And I got this great pendant of Stan because it was the only thing I could stuff into my pocket in the last five seconds," Wendy explains, holding up a gold pendant of her ex. Wendy cocks her forehead as she examines the piece of jewelry in her arms, "Oh, wait. Hold up. I think this is Craig. Here you go," Wendy states, quickly handing the pendant to his boyfriend.

Tweek blushes, "Thanks, Wendy," he chimes, staring down at the glossy surface, "Yeah, this is definitely Craig. You can tell by the scowl," he quips, before gently clasping the necklace around his neck.

"Man, Token. You have some weird kinks," Cartman completes with a whistle. He turns to the side, his forehead creasing when he sees Tweek's outfit. "Really? You're sporting a Hello Kitty shirt with rainbow leggings and pink shutter shades? Who are you, Butters?" Tweek turns to Cartman and chuckles.

…

Tweek Tweak
Fashionably Gay Coffee Bean

Cartman doesn't know what he's talking about…cause I look adorable in this outfit. And he didn't even mention my bright purple high-tops! (pulls his right leg up by the calf and presents his shoe to the camera, his face glowing. He laughs and shakes his head.) – I am so gay.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Determined Rights Activist

You know, today went surprisingly well. I had a great time with my housemates, and I got a lot of cute stuff from the Big Brother Boutique. Of course, I wish Bebe could've been there; she would've absolutely loved it. But I'm a woman on a mission, and all this crazy Christmas action almost made me forget why I wanted to come here in the first place…to prove that I'm tough and capable of anything. So I gotta regroup and refocus and not let any of this stuff distract me from playing this game.

…

Later that night, Tweek is lying on his makeshift double bed, staring up at the ceiling, the house dark and silent around him. Tweek turns slightly and peers across the room at Wendy, who is fast asleep in her bed, wearing her new lavender, satin pajamas. Tweek sighs and flops down on his back, delicately squeezing Craig's hat in his palms. He gazes somberly up at the ceiling camera, "I miss you, tiger," he whispers.

…

The next morning, after yet another night of restless sleep due to the terrors that are the underwear gnomes, Tweek is napping on the living room sofa, nuzzling his nose into Craig's hat, which he is cuddling in his palms. Suddenly, Cartman kneels in front of him and leans forward, whispering into the twitchy blonde's face. "Tweek…Tweek…" Cartman calls, hoping to lure him away from his slumber, "Check it out, there's a bunch of shirtless guys!" he cries, pointing to a random empty corner. Cartman stares down at Tweek, watching carefully as the blonde doesn't stir. The fatass huffs and snaps his fingers, "Damn. I thought for sure that would work," he mumbles. Cartman taps his chin and thinks for a moment before a sinister smile blooms on his face. He plugs his nose and gazes down at Tweek. "Hey, babe. It's me…your lover," Cartman coos, giving his best Craig impersonation, "Wake up so we can fornicate!"

Kyle steps into the kitchen, stopping in his tracks and shooting Cartman a disturbed expression after the words register in his brain. "Cartman, don't do that," he sighs, rubbing his aching temples, already feeling a headache coming on.

Cartman blinks twice, "Don't do what?" he asks dumbly, a blank look on his face. Cartman leans forward and pokes Tweek firmly on the cheek. Tweek's eyes snap open. He screams, his reaction igniting an avalanche of screams from the other present houseguests.

Tweek lunges backwards on the sofa, clutching Craig's hat protectively to his chest. He stares up at Cartman, freaked out by his close proximity, their screams slowly diminishing once the shock wears off. Tweek coughs and clears his throat. "What's going on?"

Kyle shrugs from his place beside the kitchen island, "I don't know. Ask the fatass," he grumbles, grabbing a banana off the counter and taking off towards the quiet HOH room.

Cartman turns to the blonde, an awkward aura looming around them. Cartman hums, suddenly feeling quite insecure, "I, uh, just wanted to ask you something."

"Oh, okay," Tweek says, cautiously leaning up against the back of the couch, his tone chipper but unsure. "What?"

"So…I have this friend, okay? And um, he – I mean – this friend has the hots for someone," Cartman begins, wringing his hands as he stares down at the floor.

Tweek nods, "Uh-huh," he states, waiting for any potential trickery from Cartman.

"But, you see, the thing is this friend has never liked a guy before because, well, all the ones he's met have been total dorkwads, so he's not sure how to woo his crush. – Do you get what I'm saying here, spaz?" Cartman questions.

Tweek cocks his forehead, "I think so, but I think I'd be more willing to help you if you didn't call me a spaz."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Now no one said this guy was me!" Cartman pulls his palms up, immediately jumping on the defensive as he attempts to wave the thought away from his brain.

Tweek sighs, "But let's be honest, it is, right? I mean, this is the oldest trick in the book." Cartman grumbles and folds his arms in a pout. Tweek rolls his eyes at his childish action and exhales once more, "Look, if you really want to impress Kyle-I mean, this guy's crush," Tweek implishly corrects, "Maybe try, you know, being nice to him and actually showing an interest in who he is as a person. Kyle is a very complex individual; he's not going to be with someone who doesn't mentally stimulate him. Do you get what I'm saying?" Tweek grins, echoing Cartman's own diction.

"Yes," Cartman nods, the gears turning in his brain. Cartman springs up and stares triumphantly up at the ceiling, his stance exuding a confidence that any friendzoned geek would envy. "It's time to serenade him through song!" he cries, holding his finger up in point, before making a beeline to the boys room.

Tweek groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Oh God, what have I done?"

…

Seventeen surprisingly uneventful hours later, Tweek and Wendy are crouched side by side in the girls room, the pair hiding behind Tweek's mattress. Tweek is holding a pair of binoculars, the duo decked out in their best homemade protective gear. The blonde is dressed in all black and wearing a colander on his head while Wendy is sporting a classic silver stove pot to try to match with her charcoal-colored ensemble. "Okay, so this is where we make our stand," Tweek whispers firmly, holding onto the sides of his binoculars for dear life, "Any minute now, the underwear gnomes are going to pop out to rummage through the dresser. We can't let that happen!"

"Alright, so what do we do?" Wendy wonders, her expression filled with pure innocence.

"I don't know, I was hoping maybe you thought of something," Tweek answers, turning towards his friend.

Wendy shrugs, "Honestly, even after all that brainstorming, the best thing I came up with was still the hairspray. I'm not sure if it would work though, it is environmentally-friendly," Wendy boasts, holding up the can in her right hand and presenting it to him in a not-so-subtle brag.

Tweek cocks his forehead as he stares down at the bottle, "100% All-Natural Hair Goo?" he reads, grimacing slightly. "Isn't this that same stuff they tried to feed us in elementary?"

"You remember what they fed us in elementary?"

"Of course," Tweek shudders, "I still have nightmares about it." Tweek freezes abruptly, a strange tingly feeling crawling up his leg. "Um…Wendy? Not to be rude, but don't you remember that assembly about the importance of personal space?"

"Tweek, look out!" Wendy shrieks, her eyes widening the second she sees a gnome crawling up his pant leg. She scans the area, finding a few gnomes circling around them. Wendy swiftly springs up from behind the bed and starts kicking in a series of random directions, hoping to scare off the potential intruders. A couple gnomes back away after she defensively holds up her shoe like a lethal weapon.

Tweek squeaks as he quickly knocks the gnome off his leg with the binoculars. He takes a few steps, backing up towards the wall as dozens of underwear gnomes start to angrily surround them. "Why do they want our underwear so badly?" Tweek cries as Wendy backs closer to his side, "Everyone knows Cartman has more than twice the real estate! They could probably fit a plane in there!"

All of a sudden, the gnomes stop, sharing intriguing glances with one another. Tweek and Wendy watch curiously as they huddle into a small group and start muttering under their breaths, seemingly exchanging intel. Finally, after a few moments, the gnomes all scurry out of the room chanting 'Fatass! Fatass! Fatass!' in their small, squeaky voices before erupting into their signature, harmonious tune.

Tweek leans back, feeling his body ease at his nemeses' departure, a look of pure bewilderment gracing his face. Wendy turns wondrously to her friend before staring down at the bright pink heel that she is clutching in her hand. Laughter bubbles up inside her stomach as the ridiculousness of the situation finally sets in. She bursts into a fit of hysterics, holding her side as she flops face-first onto the mattress, laughing so hard that tears stream down her cheeks. Tweek steps forward, a tiny smile blossoming on his face as he gazes down at her.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Newly Reformed Stick-in-the-Mud

Well, we successfully defeated the underwear gnomes by managing to get them to switch over to Cartman, and it didn't even cost me a single shoe. Whoo! Man, that was quite the adventure, and I had great company. Tweek is a lot of fun. Not that I'm surprised, I mean, anyone who can make Craig seem human has got to be a blast to be around.

…

Early the next morning, Token calls the final four into the living room. The host smiles as he is greeted by a string of yawns and one angry glare, courtesy of the resident fatass. "Good morning, houseguests!" Token beams, chipper than usual. He claps his hands together as the housemates gather in a semi-circle around the loudspeaker, "Now, I know this week has been particularly rough for all of you, but I have something that may cheer you up a bit."

"Oh my God, please tell me it's not another fucking trampoline," Cartman groans, wiping his hand over his face like a windshield.

"Trust me, it's even better," Token cheerfully blurts, "This is like fifteen trampolines, and there's a little something for everyone to get excited about. See, I don't know if you guys remember this, but there used to be ten people who lived in this house – six of whom were ruthlessly voted off by you. – I'm mainly talking to Cartman here," Token elaborates, causing the fatass to stomp his foot, "Anyway, as you know, once someone is voted out of the Big Brother house, they don't just disappear into the pits of Hell, oh no. They are sent to the jury house, where they get the pleasure of living with all the other rejects until a winner is ready to be crowned. So now, for the first time this season, I am going to give you guys a quick glimpse into the jury house."

At this, Tweek and Wendy immediately turn to one other, their eyes widening like saucers as Token presses the play button on his laptop. A video starts rolling on the Big Brother flatscreen.

"Sup, houseguests?" Kenny greets, standing in front of a mansion that looks like a miniature version of Token's, the dirty blonde flashing a peace sign as he stands in his swim trunks beside an extravagant fountain, "It's your boy, Kenny! And I am having the best summer of my life!"

Kyle laughs as Kenny bolts into the house, only hobbling slightly from his leg injury on his trek. Next to Kyle, Cartman sighs and shakes his head, "Stupid Kenny," he mutters.

Kenny races into the house and cannonballs onto the sofa, landing square between Clyde and Butters, who are in the middle of a casual discussion. He wraps an arm around each of them. "And what are you two cuties talking about?"

"Who makes the better nachos," Clyde states, hamming up to the camera in his face, "Butters says it's Casa Bonita, but nobody beats the Bell, in my opinion," he chimes, winking into the lens and flashing his signature million-dollar smirk.

"Clyde, quit trying to get a sponsorship," a nasally voice butts in off camera.

Tweek's heart sinks into his stomach as the camera moves to Craig, who is sitting hatless at the kitchen table across from Stan, a permanent scowl etched on Craig's face, mirroring the one on Tweek's pendant. Even though they are sitting beside a gigantic bay window that is displaying a picturesque scene of nature, both Stan and Craig look like they would rather be anywhere else in the universe right now.

"Oh my God, who ate my lipstick?" Bebe chimes, stepping into the shot like a woman on a mission and holding up the half-eaten tube of coral lipstick to the crowd, "It's not even one of the flavored ones!" Everyone instantly turns to Clyde.

Clyde shrugs. "Oh, sure, blame the guy who accidentally ate five of them yesterday. Real mature, guys!" he huffs with an eyeroll. The screen fades to black.

The final four stand in silence as they continue to stare blankly at the screen, the resident redhead appearing the most confused by it. "Wait. I'm not sure I understand the point of this video," Kyle states, "Are you trying to tell us that Clyde got his stomach pumped?"

"No, it was more of a 'slice of life' segment," Token states, "and legal proof that they aren't dead!" he adds with a smile.

"Why would they be dead?"

Token awkwardly clears his throat, "Anyway! Because this is still technically a part of the Season of Giving episode, I thought it would only be appropriate to hold our second and final Viewers' Choice of the season."

"Oh no…" Kyle mutters, shuddering slightly at the thought as the other three houseguests shoot nervous glances at the loudspeaker.

"That's right! So, please direct your gazes to the television as I reveal this week's Viewers' Choice question," Token instructs, waiting until all four of the houseguests do so before displaying the question onscreen, "Which jury member would you like to see return to the Big Brother house for an entire afternoon?" Token reads, immediately looking down to gauge the housemates' responses. Tweek is shaking in place while Cartman is scrunching his eyebrows at the camera. Both Wendy and Kyle are staring agape at the screen. "See? I knew you guys would be excited!" Token beams, before diving further into his explanation, "So, here's how it works. The audience will vote for one of your six former houseguests, then the winning juror will be escorted by yours truly into the house to spend tomorrow afternoon with you guys," he states, clasping his hands together, "Now, since I'm feeling quite generous today, I'm going to extend it to the top two. That means the top two jurors and only the top two jurors selected by the audience will return tomorrow. The 'everyone attends anyway' twist from last time was only implemented for the people that you didn't want to see," he explains with a huff, "And just you know, this poll is all just for fun and totally isn't an excuse to see who's the most popular to potentially cast them for a hypothetical Season Two. – Nope. No way."

"Season Two?" Cartman grunts, "Oh, hell no. I am not doing this again!"

"One could only hope, Cartman," Token sighs, "One could only hope," he repeats while he tisks and shakes his head, "Also, to make this fair, the jury members that come into the house tomorrow will not be allowed to exchange any game-related information with you. So, they can't tell you how the other jury members perceive you, or anything that can potentially influence any of you four's games. They're only here to have fun with you guys. Got it?"

"Got it," the houseguests simultaneously answer.

"Great! So rest up, everybody. You've got a big day ahead of yourselves tomorrow. Token out!"

The houseguests perk up a bit as Token buzzes off.

Cartman turns to the others and sighs, shuffling his chubby legs on the carpet. "So…who do yew guys want to win?" he wonders.

"Well, I'd like to see Kenny," Kyle grins.

"Really?" Cartman coos, scrunching his forehead in disgust, "You get your pick of anybody and you want to see that loser?"

Kyle growls, Cartman's comment evoking a pit of rage in his core. "Oh yeah, fatass, who would you pick?"

"Stan, cause he's the least irritating," Cartman answers, nonchalantly turning towards the window.

"Speak for yourself," Wendy grumbles, her arms crossed sternly over her torso as she kicks at the floor.

"Please, Wendy! You're only saying that cause you just want to pal around with your fellow lesbo!" Cartman huffs, gazing up at the rafters, "And all Tweek wants is to get laid, so it's obvious who he'd pick," he adds, pointing at the unsuspecting blonde over his shoulder.

Tweek sighs and delicately grasps the Craig pendant in his palm, his eyes trailing to the floor as his housemates continue bickering beside him.

Tweek Tweak
Fashionably Sane Coffee Bean

Honestly, part of me is really hoping that Craig walks through that door tomorrow, but something tells me that if he comes here, I may not be able to let him go again. (sighs and anxiously clasps his hands together in the classic prayer position) – Look, I know I don't have the greatest luck with Viewers' Choice – I mean, last time, I was forced to spend half the day handcuffed to my father – but if you guys can somehow get Craig back into this house, you will totally redeem yourselves in my eyes.

Chapter Text

Later the next morning, Tweek is anxiously scratching his bicep, hugging himself as he circles around the front door like a confused housefly. Wendy watches him from the hallway, a concerned expression painted on her face. "Tweek, are you okay?" she wonders, taking a careful step forward, "You've been hovering around the door all day."

Tweek shakes his head, quickly nudging himself out of his trans as he turns towards her, his eyes baggy from a clear lack of sleep the previous night. "What? Yeah, I'm fine," Tweek weakly mutters, absentmindedly looking his friend over, "That's a great headband."

"Thanks," Wendy chimes, proudly running her fingers over it as she basks in the compliment, "It's my good luck headband."

"Ah," Tweek coos, loosely folding his arms, "Hoping for Bebe, right?"

Wendy sighs, "More like praying it isn't Stan," she admits.

Tweek cocks his forehead, "You really think they'd pick Stan?"

"Why not? It would be must-see TV. This place would be Dramady Central," she quips with an eye roll, "I mean, he did screw over me and Kyle, and now Kyle and I are on the outs again, so why not complete the Circle of Hate?"

Tweek turns to the wall, giving a small nod as he hugs his body. He sighs and stares down at the carpet, "I begged them yesterday to vote for Craig, but I doubt anyone will listen to me. I mean, for all I know, I may be edited as the villain."

"Right," Wendy states dubiously as she rolls her eyes, "cause I'm sure the anxious, twitchy blonde guy is outvillaining the fat, racist, self-centered, intolerant, manipulative sociopath. – Well, maybe," she adds with an impish smirk, "You are kind of annoying."

"Hey! You shut your face, dish!" Tweek boisterously cries, snapping his head around to sneer at her. The pair lock eyes with each other, Wendy struggling to keep a straight face while Tweek does his best to look mock-offended. A few seconds later, they burst out laughing.

Wendy leans back a bit, wiping a few tears away from her eyes as she holds onto her aching stomach, "Did you just call me a dish?" she sniffs.

Tweek grins, wiping away a few happy tears of his own, "I thought saying 'bitch' might be too offensive," he shrugs, "I don't want to become a reaction gif."

"Alright, everyone. Gather 'round!" Token voice chimes. Tweek shrieks as his handsome face appears on the television. Kyle and Cartman look up from their lunches in the kitchen and scurry over to the Big Brother flat screen, the host flashing them a coy smile. "As you all know, yesterday was the last Viewers' Choice of the season, and the votes came pouring in," Token states, elongating his words a bit to build the suspense, "Unsurprisingly, every single juror received at least one vote to come back here. Some received more votes than others, but at the end of the day, one person blew this completely out of the water," he pauses, glancing down at the sea of nervous faces below him, "So, brace yourselves, cause I'm about to bring in the most highly requested and supposed fan-favorite contestant of the season. Here they come!" Token coos, dramatically pointing at the front doorway.

Tweek steps back towards the wall and joins his fellow housemates as the doorknob slowly twists open. Kyle's face lights up as a figure dressed in a familiar orange parka waltzes into the room, his parka so thick that it nearly covers his whole face. "KENNY!" Kyle beams, quickly racing over to him. Tweek's face falls a little, trying his best to mask his disappointment as he quietly backs away from the rest of the crowd.

Tweek Tweak
Disappointed Coffee Bean/Hater of Dishes

Well, thanks anyway, you guys. I know you tried your best. (gives a weak smile)

"Kenny!" Kyle chimes once more, throwing his arms around his friend and pulling him into a hug. The orange-clad man awkwardly pats him on the back, appearing more like he's tolerating the embrace than enjoying it, while Tweek slinks into the living room, struggling to put on a brave face for the cameras. Wendy notices this immediately and quickly slips over to comfort him.

Cartman waddles over to the hugging pair, looking unimpressed as he scans the intruder over. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Dumpster King." The man flips Cartman off with Kenny's signature black gloves. Cartman snarls, "Aye, fuck you too!" he blares, flipping him off.

Kyle and Cartman watch for a moment as the newbie struts into the living room, before Token calls the duo back to the door.

Back in the living room, Wendy and Tweek are sitting together on the sofa, the latter visibly distraught by the results. Wendy stands up upon the man's arrival and waves to their guest. "Hi, Kenny. It's great to see you."

The man stops beside the coffee table and nods before narrowing in on Tweek, who barely lifts his head up.

"Hey, Kenny," Tweek states, his voice cracking a little through the greeting, "Please don't hit on me."

Tweek's eyes widen as the man immediately pounces on him and starts crushing his lips against his. A startled Tweek squeaks and squirms, before wedging his leg between their bodies and kicking the guy off him in the stomach with his foot. The man falls to the floor with a heavy 'oomf', the orange hood flying off his head and exposing his face.

"Jesus Christ, babe," Craig winces, cradling his stomach as he sits up on the carpet, "You can still take me out in one hit."

Tweek's pupils dilate, his face lighting up like the Sun when he sees his Peruvian Prince, "CRAIG!"

Tweek races over and jumps on him, causing Craig to fall flat on his back once more. Craig groans as his head hits the carpet. "Oh man. Sorry about that, honey. Token made me wear it. God, it smells like death," he states, giving the sleeve a whiff, "You wanna smell it?" Tweek grunts, pulls the both of them up, and unzips the parka, almost ripping the zipper off in the process. He throws himself at Craig, hops into his lap, and starts sloppily kissing him.

After a few blissful moments, Craig pulls away slightly, dazed and winded, a big goofy smile plastered across his face, "Huh, I guess not," he answers as Tweek pulls him into another kiss. Craig stalls slightly, reaching his hand into his inside pocket, "Careful, babe. You'll crush your contacts," he states, pulling out a small box from the mess that is Kenny McCormick's jacket, his other arm securely perched on Tweek's back as they sit on the floor.

Tweek cutely tilts his forehead, pulling back slightly to stare into his boyfriend's eyes, Tweek's arms still wrapped around his torso. "How did you know I needed more contacts?"

"Bebe."

"Ah…" Tweek coos with a small smile, "She's such a good friend."

"Yeah," Craig nods, turning the box over and pointing to a scribbled mess of crayon on the back that looks like it was drawn by a severely untalented kindergartener. "Clyde even drew a picture on the back of it."

"Oh," Tweek squeaks, tilting his forehead and squinting slightly to get a better look at it, "It's a...lion and a rabbit?" he guesses, staring at the bright yellow and blue blobs.

Craig nose laughs, "Actually, I think it's supposed to be you and me. I think those are my hat flaps," he replies, gesturing to the blue loops and smiling as he stares down at the jumbled figures, who faintly appear to be holding hands. "Yeah...you really don't want to know how long it took him to draw this. You would shake your head."

Tweek grins, deciding just to take his word for it instead of pushing for the details, "Well, they're both good friends," he adds.

"Yes, and my bringing this here makes me the best boyfriend," Craig quips, tapping his finger against the box of contacts.

"You were already the best boyfriend," Tweek blinks.

Craig flushes slightly, giving a sheepish smile as he stares up at his love. "Nah, I think I'm still second to you," he states. Tweek blushes.

"SO FU- SO FU- SO FUCKIN' GAY!" Jimmy shouts over a nearby loudspeaker.

Craig grins as he continues to hold him, "Thanks, Jimmy."

Back in the main hallway, the real Kenny struts through the front door, doing a double snap and pointing at his friends as he sports his brand-new, bright orange parka. "What up, playas?"

"What the fuck?!" Cartman cries, narrowing his eyes at the doppelganger, Kyle looking equally confused beside him, "Two Kennys?! That's twice the poor!"

Suddenly, Tweek bolts by the others, giggling as he pulls Craig towards the bedroom by the arm. Kenny's original orange parka is unzipped to reveal the noirette's signature blue outfit.

Cartman ahhs in understanding, "Yeah, that makes more sense," he coos.

…

Craig Tucker
Landslide Victor/Tweek's Favorite

Well, you voted me back in last night, so clearly you guys think I haven't suffered enough in this house, with its stupid walls and its lack of ceiling and my super-hot boyfriend… (gazes off into the distance, a twinkle in his eyes. He turns and smiles genuinely at the camera) – Thank you.

…

A half hour later, Craig sighs in ecstasy, still riding the high of their romantic encounter as he holds Tweek in their makeshift double bed, "I'm so glad you didn't disassemble the bed," he states.

Tweek sighs as he nuzzles his face up against Craig's chest, the pair bare and nestled under the blankets. "Me too," Tweek pauses and gazes tenderly up at his boyfriend, tracing delicate patterns on Craig's chest with his finger, "You know I haven't slept well since you left," he hums.

Craig pulls Tweek closer, a small smile looming on his face, "I haven't either," he confesses, a tinge of sadness in his eyes, "but it's okay, we'll spend every waking moment together once you get out of here in a couple weeks."

Tweek smiles, sighing lovingly as he stares up at him, "I'd like that."

"I would too."

The couple sit in silence for a moment, basking in their togetherness, before Craig's eyes trail to his lover's chest. "I still wish you would've taken that thing off beforehand, though," Craig unabashedly adds, pointing down at Tweek's gold pendant of Craig's face that the blonde is sporting around his neck, "It's weird pounding you when there's a miniature version of myself staring me judgingly in the face the whole time."

Tweek grabs the pendant and holds it in front of Craig's face, mirroring its pouty expression. "Aww, but look at his cute little scowl!" he chimes.

Craig smiles, blushing profusely as he turns towards the closed door, "Oh my God, babe. How are you so fucking adorable?"

Tweek grins, leans over Craig's chest, and starts playing with his hair, stroking his fingers through Craig's signature black locks.

"You know, you look cuter without your hat on."

"Are you trying to tell me that you burned my hat in a satanic ritual last night?" Craig smirks, thoroughly enjoying their flirtatious banter, "Cause that's not cool, babe. I never would've burned the Grindmaster."

Tweek rolls his eyes, "Yes, you would've."

"I know," Craig replies, surprisingly ecstatic about this topic, "It'd be like a coffee volcano. It would've been so cool."

Tweek laughs, "You are such a science nerd."

"Hey, I'm not the one who dressed up in all space print today to impress his boyfriend," Craig cheekily grins, delicately rubbing circles into his boyfriend's back.

Tweek playfully bites his lip, staring at his discarded galaxy pants and planetary sweatshirt that are scattered across the floor. He blushes as he flops his head on Craig's torso. "Shut up," he huffs, "I'll have you know it took me twenty minutes just to put on that sweatshirt."

Craig smiles, tapping Tweek tenderly on the cheek until he lifts up his face. "Hey. I love you, babe."

Tweek sighs, giving a tiny smile as he plops his head back down on his boyfriend's chest, his voice slightly muffled, "I love you too, asshole." Craig laughs.

…

Later that afternoon, the final four, plus Craig and Kenny, are all showered and dressed and sitting on the sofas, hanging out together for the first time since Week 1. "So, what kind of stuff do you guys do in the jury house?" Wendy wonders, scooting forward a bit on the sofa as she turns to their guests.

Kyle nods from his seat between Cartman and Kenny, interested in this answer as well, "Yeah, what's the day-to-day like?"

"Well, I am having an absolute blast," Kenny chimes, wrapping an arm around his redheaded friend as a huge smile shines on his face, "I spend all day hanging out with my peeps and eating top-quality food. I already made out with half the house – in eviction order – and I'm hoping to do a clean sweep through. Up next is Craig," he states, flashing him his best seductive smolder.

"Yeah…that's not gonna happen," Craig grunts, crossing his arms and shooting him a glare.

"What about you, Craig?" Kyle asks, "What's your routine like?"

Craig sighs, completely deadpan as he stares at the wall, "Well, I spend my days living in silent agony with a narcissist and an unfunny clown until I cry myself to sleep at night."

"Heh, that's a great joke, Craig," Cartman butts in.

Craig turns to the fatass, his expression dead serious, "Who's joking?"

The final four, minus Tweek, all exchange bizarre glances before awkwardly shuffling away from the sofas, Kenny following close behind them.

Tweek leans against the back cushion after everyone has cleared the living room. "So, what is it really like there?"

"It's kinda meh," Craig shrugs, scooting closer to him, "It's not torture per se, but I do spend most of my time trying to forget how I'd rather be literally anywhere else in the universe as long as we could be together there."

Tweek turns slightly to the side, his face florid as he's barely able to meet his love's eyeline. "Goddammit, Craig. You're gonna make me all horny again."

"That was the plan," he winks, "They don't call me Lord Sexington for nothing, babe."

…

"Man, I can't believe we're together again!" Kenny beams as he sits at the kitchen table, drinking a hot chocolate that Kyle just made for him with the Grindmaster 5000. Cartman is sitting across from him while Kyle is standing near the kitchen island. "We just need Stan here, and we'll have the whole crew!" he chimes, noticing Kyle tensing up a bit when he says this.

"Yeah…it's a shame Stan couldn't be here instead of, well, you know…" Cartman trails off, staring up at Kenny.

"Craig?" Kenny guesses.

Cartman gives a shit-eating smirk, "Actually, I was going to say you."

"Cartman, don't be a dick," Kyle scolds him, swiftly wiping some crumbs off the table.

An awkward silence fills the room. Kenny perks his eyebrow, confused as to why Cartman isn't immediately retorting the comment, but coming up short with the answer.

…

"Cartman likes Kyle?" Craig repeats, sitting on the trampoline across from his boyfriend as the Sun slowly sets on the horizon, their backs to the residence. The trio of idiots (as Craig so lovingly started calling them) are barely visible through the living-room window behind them, where Kenny currently has Cartman trapped in a headlock.

Tweek nods, gently poking the rubbery surface below him, "Yeah. He basically confessed it to me two days ago," he reveals, while Kyle tries to yank his two group members apart in the background.

Craig smirks and stares off into the distance, a sinister glint in his eyes.

Craig Tucker
Vengeful Tweeksexual

Shortly after Bebe came to the jury house, I overheard her telling Clyde that Cartman was giving Tweek a hard time here. And now that I'm back in the house, I may as well try to get even with him. Cause you know Tweek, he's too nice to do it himself. That's why he has me. (smiles)

Tweek turns to him, eyeing his boyfriend's troublesome expression. "Oh no. Craig, no. Don't you dare do what I think you're going to do!"

Craig cocks his forehead like a confused puppy dog, "And what would that be?" he asks, clearly playing dumb.

"Nuh-uh. I'm not falling for that again," Tweek replies, crossing his arms in a huff, "The last time you asked me that question, you ended up using my response as your plan."

Craig smiles smugly, "And what a great plan it was," he says.

Tweek sighs.

"Come on babe," Craig states, scooching closer to him and placing a gentle hand on his knee, "where's your sense of fun and adventure? Sometimes, you just gotta take a risk and really step out of your comfort zone."

"Okay. Who are you and what have you done with Craig Tucker?"

"Craig Tucker is dead," Craig teasingly declares, "I am his superhuman cousin, Greg Muck-no. Greg Suck-no. Greg Fuck-oh, goddammit! Why are there so many terrible rhymes for my last name?" he laments, folding his arms in a pout.

Tweek smiles, letting out a lighthearted chuckle. "Well, if you're going to do something stupid to Cartman, at least tell me what it is first."

Craig scoots forward, grabbing his boyfriend's hands and squeezing them in excitement, ecstatic to just be in the presence of his love again, "Alright. So, here's what I'm thinking…"

Five minutes later, Tweek and Craig are standing in front of the occupied boys room, ready to set Craig's plan into motion. Craig peeks into the boys room before turning to Tweek with a nod. Tweek gulps, shaking slightly as he looks to the floor, nervous to go through with it. Tweek perks up a bit and smiles as Craig gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You're kidding," Tweek speaks, making sure to amplify his voice until it's slightly below a yell, "Kenny likes Kyle?"

"Yeah," Craig replies, in his usual showy acting tone, his voice projecting off the walls, "he told me he was interested and was going to confess tonight. Good for him, I guess. I don't know. I don't really give a crap about him, honestly," he states, before pulling Tweek closer to him, "Now put your face on my face," he coos, enticingly luring Tweek forward. Tweek squeaks and joins in as Craig starts ostentatiously kissing him.

The corner of Tweek's lip tilts up as he spies Cartman storming out of the boys room. Tweek animatedly grips Craig's shoulders. "I think he bought it!" he whisper-exclaims as Cartman takes off towards the HOH room.

Craig doesn't respond and instead moves down to Tweek's neck, lining it with kisses as he thrusts his body against his.

"Craig, calm down," Tweek states, holding him loosely, "You're getting way too into it."

Craig pulls away, panting heavily as he leans up against the wall for support. "Oh. Sorry," he apologizes, the blonde staring down at him in concern.

"Should we follow him?" Tweek wonders, taking a peek around the corner.

"Yeah," Craig states between pants while he shifts his body weight towards the wall, "just give me a second, babe. – Phew," Craig pants some more, attempting to lower his heart rate as he rests his hand flat against the blockwork, "Man, you're a good actor."

After a few moments, Tweek and Craig tiptoe around the corner, a familiar fatass's voice attracting their attention. The pair watch unnoticed as Cartman pulls a photo of Kyle out of his pocket and starts sensually stroking it in the living room with his finger. "Don't worry, Kahl. I won't let that rat king go anywhere near you. After all, we both know we belong together!" Cartman exclaims, quickly scanning the area before exuberantly kissing the photo.

Craig leans back upright, taking a step away from the hallway wall, the disgusting display shocking him to his core as Tweek continues to crouch down beside him, "Yeesh. This is a whole lot more disturbing than I originally thought," he cringes, whispering to his love, "…and I had it as a nine on the creepy scale."

…

Meanwhile, Kyle is sitting on his bed in the HOH room, watching as his dirty blonde friend paces in front of him, marveling at all the wonders the suite has to offer. He smiles as Kenny picks items out of his gift basket, finding his enthusiasm over every little thing Kyle shows him incredibly endearing and laughing alongside Kenny as he cracks his jokes.

Suddenly, Kenny sighs, his face falling slightly as he clasps his hands and stares down at the floor. "So, how are you doing, Kyle?" Kenny genuinely wonders, the redhead still recovering from his latest joke, "I heard you and Stan broke up."

Kyle stiffens in place, feeling all the joy sucked out of him as he gazes at his friend's concerned face. "Wait, you mean Stan actually told you what happened?" he asks, his voice laced with disbelief.

"He did," Kenny nods, "And he was pretty bummed about it too. He was more worried about you, though. He said you took it pretty hard."

"Well, obviously," Kyle exhales, rolling his eyes, "I was the one who was cheated on."

Kenny nods, his face filling with sorrow as he props a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "I'm sorry, Kyle," he sighs, "But maybe you two just weren't meant to be together."

"Yeah…I'm starting to see that a lot more now," Kyle confesses, his voice meek and barely above a whisper. Kyle sniffs, unable to stop a tear from rolling down his cheek and staining into the carpet, "I just-miss her so much."

"Yeah…Ms. Choksondik was pretty hot," he agrees.

Kyle snaps his head up, "What?!"

"What?" Kenny repeats, faking innocence.

Kyle shakes his head and sighs, "No, I was talking about Dee. I want her back," he reveals.

"Oh yeah. She was pretty hot too," Kenny states with a nod. Kenny wraps an arm around Kyle as the pair soak in the silence around them, "Don't settle for less than fuckin' perfect, Kyle. You deserve it," Kenny sincerely tells him, "Don't go after someone who's not all in on you."

Kyle nods, eyes sparkling as he gazes up at his one true friend, like Kenny truly means every word he is saying and Kyle wholeheartedly believes him. "I won't," he promises.

"Good," Kenny says definitively, before pulling Kyle into a full-fledged hug.

The pair jump apart slightly as Cartman crashes through the lone HOH-room window, the cacophonous noise echoing through the suite as the fatass flops onto his back on the carpet.

Cartman clears his throat, shifting his eyes as the pair stares bizarrely down at him in shock. "What?" he mutters.

"Dude, I don't understand," Kenny speaks, his arm still draped around Kyle's shoulders while he struggles to put the pieces together, "Why didn't you just go through the open door?" he asks, gesturing to the ajar door in front of him.

Cartman exhales, still winded from the spectacle, his hand perched on his stomach as he attempts to catch his breath. "There was no time. This way's faster," he assures them.

Kenny McCormick
Fan Favorite/Death's Sweet Prince

Well, I don't know what the hell that was supposed to be, but you do you, Cartman. Actually, scratch that. – Don't. No one wants to see that. (smirks)

…

Ten minutes later, Kenny saunters into the living room, giving a satisfied sigh as he plops down on the sofa next to the only remaining woman. "Hey, Wendy," Kenny greets, his tone as vibrant as the smile gracing his face, "can I ask you about your hair?"

"My hair?" Wendy squeaks, subtly tugging on one of her raven locks, "Um, sure. What about it?" she asks.

"How do you get it so soft?" Kenny wonders, his question surprisingly succinct, "I mean, I always thought I had great haircare, but, Jesus, yours is shinier than Kyle's spine."

"Um…thank you?" Wendy squeaks, running her fingers through it, "It's just washing and conditioning. Oh, and selling your soul to the Devil."

Kenny reaches into his coat pocket and takes out a pencil and notepad. "Uh-huh," he states, quickly jutting this information down.

"-That last part was a joke," Wendy sweatdrops.

"I see," Kenny replies, tapping his chin in thought with the pencil's eraser as South Park's infamous gay couple steps into the room behind him, "Well, I'll just ask the Devil about it the next time I see him," he says casually while he slips the notepad back into his parka. "Hey, Craig," he cheekily coos, perking up a bit when he sees him, "Fancy seeing you here. Surprised you're not still in bed."

Craig glares as he squeezes his boyfriend's hand, "Shut the fuck up, McCormick."

"Oh, that's right," Kenny grins, basking in Craig's discomfort, "You wake up early now, cause you spend all day with your best buddy, Stan."

Craig turns to Tweek, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of Liane Cartman's minivan. Tweek quirks his eyebrow, somewhat surprised by this news.

"That is not true," he snarls.

Kenny turns to Wendy and Tweek, his smile so wide, he could be the envy of jack-o-lanterns, "Yeah, they started hanging out together a few days after Craig came into the jury house. They're like best friends."

Craig clenches his fists, steam shooting out of his ears. "Kenny-" he warns.

Kenny laughs and continues with his explanation, "They have this weird hyper fixation where they always have to try to one-up each other," he says, "Like one time, Craig burst into the room at five in the morning because he came up with the perfect zinger for him."

"No, I didn't," Craig retorts, hoping to burn holes into Kenny's smug-ass face, Tweek smiling next to his boyfriend.

"Dude, you woke Stan up just to tell him," Kenny chuckles, "What was it again?"

Craig hisses, "Kenny, I swear to God-"

Kenny snaps his fingers, his face lighting up as it comes back to him, "Oh yeah! It was 'you wish you could lick my balls, Marsh. In your dreams!'" he exclaims, bursting into a fit of hysterics a millisecond after he says it. Wendy and Tweek join him, the latter finding it quite cute. Craig groans and hides his face in his hands, his cheeks scarlet. "Yeah, there was so much angry testosterone that I thought there was going to be a pissing match on the floor."

Craig growls, his eyes glowing bright blue as all the pent-up frustration inside of him pushes him over the edge, triggering an ancient Peruvian curse. Craig snarls and turns to the side. Bright blue bolts shoot through his eyes, accidentally zapping the back wall and crumbling it to pieces. The houseguests paralyze in shock as the wall disintegrates almost instantly. Upon hearing the impact, Kyle races out of his bedroom and gawks at the destruction.

"Holy shit!" he cries, his eyes as wide as Cartman's stomach.

"Craig?" Tweek squeaks, reaching out to hold him.

Craig's expression softens, his breath heavy as he turns to the other houseguests, "Whoops."

…

Five minutes later, everyone is lined up in the Big Brother backyard, standing a safe distance away from the smoldering wreckage and the newly boarded-up HOH-room window as Token sighs over the loudspeaker. "Well, you guys have only been together for three hours, and you've already caused $10,000 worth of damage."

Cartman smiles, leaning back smugly while Tweek clings to Craig's arm beside him, "You're welcome," he beams, shooting a finger gun, "Besides, Kenny didn't give anyone herpes yet. Isn't that the real win?"

Token sighs once more at this aggravating houseguest, rubbing his throbbing temple in distress as Kenny glares at Cartman, "No," he grumbles.

Craig steps forward, straightening his back a bit when he spies a familiar pair of jeans still resting on the power line. "Hey, it's nice to see my pants haven't moved," he remarks.

"Well, I'm glad to see that everyone here has their priorities straight," Token sarcastically spews, "Now before you guys cost me another ten grand, let's get to today's HOH competition. Like always, the outgoing HOH, Kyle, is ineligible to compete this week. But, unlike most weeks, the winner of this competition will be eligible to compete next week, since it will be the final HOH competition of the season," he explains, taking a deep breath before turning to the houseguests, "This week's competition is a little game I like to call, Turn Over. Behind all of you is a board filled with white tiles. At the start, all three of the eligible houseguests will select and stand on a random tile on the board. When it's your turn, you can move one space in any direction – including diagonals – but once you move, you must flip over the tile you were previously standing on to the blue side. If there are no white tiles available for you to move onto, you lose. Last person standing wins this challenge and is guaranteed a spot in the final three. Are there any questions?" The houseguests exchange glances with each other and shrug, "Good. Cartman, Wendy, Tweek, take your places on the board. Kyle, Kenny, Craig, take your seats on the sideline."

"Awesome!" Kenny exclaims, racing over and taking a seat on a comfortable lounge chair next to Kyle.

Five minutes later, the three eligible houseguests are standing equidistant apart from each other on the completely-white, gigantic chess board, the challenge already in full swing. Kenny is bouncing excitedly in his seat while Craig is engrossed in the competition, watching his boyfriend's every move as he slides across the board.

On their respective turns, Tweek and Wendy each take a step forward before flipping their previous squares over, seemingly working together to back Cartman into a corner. Kyle leans forward in his seat, nervously chewing his lip from the sidelines.

"Alright, fatass. It's your turn," Token smirks.

Cartman turns around, noticing only two available squares to step on: one that backs him into the left bottom corner and another that leaves him face to face with the twitchy spaz with only one spare tile between them. "Shit!" Cartman curses under his breath, before reluctantly moving forward. He crouches down and flips his previous tile to the blue side, the completion of this action signaling Tweek's turn.

Tweek lifts his head up, expressionless and numb as he takes a step backward and retreats. Craig shakes his head from the sidelines, his stomach sinking at the sight, visibly distraught when Tweek makes this move.

Fifteen minutes later, Tweek turns over his final tile, effectively eliminating himself from the competition. "And with that, it is down to Cartman and Wendy," Token announces, glancing down at the board, "But with only one square available for Wendy to move and three for Cartman, there's simply no use. Congratulations, Cartman, you are the new HOH!"

"Wow!" Kenny awes, his mouth slightly agape as Cartman gives a cheer, "What a comeback."

Cartman struts over to Kyle, a boastful look dancing across his face as he stares down at him. Kyle quickly stands up and drapes the HOH key around his neck. "Well Kahl, are you impressed by my performance?"

"Uh, I guess so?" he chimes.

"Yeah," Cartman coos, sass in his stance, "I'd like to see Kenny do that," he remarks, flexing his nonexistent biceps.

"Um…okay," Kyle shrugs.

Kenny walks up behind Kyle, both of them sporting puzzled expressions as they watch their fatass of a friend mosey back into the house. Kenny furrows his brow, "What the hell was that about?"

"I don't know," Kyle sighs, equally bewildered, "You know how he gets sometimes."

Kyle Broflovski
Clueless Know-it-all

Wow. Cartman won at a competition that required patience and logic? Well, it's official. Now I've seen everything.

Across the backyard, Tweek is standing beside Wendy, pulling her into a side hug as she stares somberly down at the mismatched board. "I'm sorry, Wendy," Tweek states, his tone warm and comforting.

"It's okay," she sniffs, a single tear rolling down her cheek, "You tried your best, Tweek."

Behind them, Craig turns to Tweek, flashing him a knowing expression. "Yeah," Craig agrees dryly, disbelief hidden in his undertone. Craig steps forward, gently grabbing his boyfriend's hand, "Hey babe, can we go in the bedroom for a second?"

"Whew! TMI, you guys!" Kenny chimes as he saunters past them.

"Oh, like you're one to talk, McCormick," Craig rolls his eyes, switching to a combative tone. He turns to Tweek and sighs, softly nudging him forward, "Come on. Let's go."

Craig leads Tweek into the house and towards the girls bedroom, swerving at the last second to pull him into the storage closet. Tweek creases his forehead as Craig shuts the door behind them, locking it in one swift motion.

"I thought we were going to the bedroom," Tweek states as confused as ever.

Craig shakes his head. "No. I only said that to throw off the scent just in case someone tried to follow us," he explains, giving a heavy exhale. He paces in front of his love, trying his best to collect his thoughts before he dives into his accusation, "Tweek," he stops. Tweek looks up, listening intently to his every word, "I love you more than anything on this earth, and I know you like the back of my hand. You're a five-time online puzzle champion and secret chess enthusiast. You spent all summer doing logic puzzles just like that HOH competition for fun. You had Cartman backed into a corner. You threw that challenge," he states, his tone firm.

Tweek turns to the door, his back to his boyfriend, a perplexing glint in his eyes. He swallows, peeking over his shoulder slightly as he delivers these words, "Craig, do you trust me?"

Craig nods, not even having to think about it, "Of course," he says.

Tweek smiles softly as he turns completely towards him, "Then don't worry about it," he assures. Craig steps back, stunned to speechlessness by his implication.

Tweek Tweak
Strategic Coffee Bean/Craig Confuser

Sometimes when you have a plan, you have to stick to it to the end…no matter what the cost. (tears up a bit) Everything I've done up to this point, minus the whole sabotaging my game to save Craig thing, has been strategically driven. If I start playing with my emotions now, it could cost me everything. I love Wendy, but we have a lot of the same allies on the jury, so if I go to the end with her, I'm not sure I'll have the votes to win. As much as I care about Wendy, I need someone else to take her out. And if Kyle is the one who takes her out this week, he'll tarnish his game, and that can only help me when I'm sitting there in the finals.

For once, Cartman is actually on my side here. I know for a fact that he wants Wendy gone because he thinks she's the tougher opponent. And you better believe that I'm going to capitalize on that, cause that's what good players do. And I think I'm a pretty good player. (nods) Craig's right…sometimes you just gotta take a risk, especially if you want to win a competition like this. I wish all this made things easier for me...but it doesn't. Cause no matter how I word it, I don't think I'd ever be able to truly justify voting out a friend. At least, not to my conscience. (sniffs) And that's what makes this game so hard.

…

Craig Tucker
Tweek's #1 Fan/Wall Destroyer

I knew it. I fuckin' knew it. But every person in that house thought I was delusional. (gestures over his shoulder) Damn babe…you are a mastermind. (covers his mouth in shock, a smile breaking out behind his hand) – That's one of the many reasons why I love Tweek; he's just full of surprises – which is a strange compliment coming from me, but…I just love him so much.

…

An eerie feeling washes over them. Craig stares forlornly down at the floor, his expression as vivid as DogPoo's odor. "Craig, wait!" Tweek cries, latching onto his arm and halting Craig a few feet from the storage-room exit. Tweek nudges him closer, his face filled with worry, "Are you okay?"

Craig turns slightly towards him, unable to match his eyeline, "Why do you ask that?" he wonders, his voice barely audible.

"Well, you did shoot lasers out of your eyes today. Usually you only do that when something's really eating at you."

Craig scrunches his forehead, trying his best to maintain his stoic expression. With anyone else, he would be able to lie straight through his teeth, but he knows Tweek could always see right through him. "I'm just a little stressed, babe," he quietly states, "That's all."

Tweek tilts his head, "Stressed about what?"

Craig gazes up at Tweek, looking like it pains him to admit this, "It's just-we've never been apart this long since we started dating, and we're about to do it again and…it's a tough adjustment," he says, his voice as weak as his morale.

"We don't know that. I could be out in two days," Tweek reminds him. Tweek stops, noticing the disbelieving expression on Craig's face. Tweek's jaw drops slightly, "You really have that much faith in me?" Tweek asks, positively floored.

"You're kidding, right?" Craig replies, giving a small smirk, "I know you've been running the show here, babe, even if I can't prove it yet," Craig sighs, before practically begging as he squeezes Tweek's hand, "Please don't let this get in the way of anything, honey. I know how much this means to you. The last thing I want is to mess it up."

"Oh, Craig," Tweek sniffs, tearing up a bit at the sentimentality as he reaches forward and envelopes his biggest supporter in a tender, warm embrace, "You're not going to mess this up. You're my motivation. I'm doing this for you."

Craig pulls back a bit and gazes down at him. "I don't want you to do this for me; I want you to do this for yourself," he states, his mouth in a line.

"Well, I'm not there yet, but maybe someday I will be," Tweek confesses, his tone soft and welcoming, "For now, why don't I just try to win this for the both of us?"

Craig smiles, his eyes shining. He lets out a tiny nose laugh as he stares adoringly down at his love, "Alright."

…

Tweek and Craig walk out of the storage room, hand in hand, still a bit down about their upcoming separation, but both trying to put on a brave face for the other one. They walk past the girls room, instantly stopping when they hear someone sniffling on the opposite end of the door. The couple turn to each other and shrug, before Tweek reaches forward and gently pushes the door open, revealing a miserable Wendy, who sitting on her bed and sobbing into the knees of her leggings.

"Wendy?" Tweek speaks up suddenly, immediately racing over to comfort his friend. He places an arm around her, "What's wrong?"

Wendy looks up, poking her head out slightly above her kneecap as she continues to dwell upon her failure, "I-I just can't believe I blew it today. We had to win, and I just couldn't," she musters out between sobs, Tweek's heart almost breaking at the sight, "I'm such a failure. So much for being strong," she laments, hugging her legs.

Tweek turns to Craig, who merely shrugs in response. Tweek sighs and pulls her closer to him, "Wendy," he states genuinely, "You are strong. You're literally one of the strongest people I know."

"Yeah," Craig adds in his usual impassive tone, awkwardly hovering behind them. Tweek stares peculiarly up at him. Craig shrugs, "See? I'm getting better at comforting people."

Wendy lifts her tear-stained head up and turns to Tweek, completely blocking the noirette out. She sniffs, wiping a few tears away from her eyes, "Thank you, Tweek."

…

Five minutes later, Kenny struts into the living room, whistling a happy tune as he makes his way to everyone's least-favorite houseguest. "Cartman, Cartman, Cartman, my favorite fatass," Kenny coos, his arms swinging as he halts in front of the sofa.

"Really?" Cartman creases his forehead, looking up slightly from his seat on the center cushion.

"No, that's Bruce Vilanch," he grins.

Cartman rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh, "I hate you, Kenny," he mutters.

"Hey, Cartman," Craig greets, his no-nonsense tone causing all of the heads in the living room to turn as he walks into the room with Tweek, their hands clasped together like magnets, "I hear you do a good impression of me," he states, stopping a few feet away from the sofa before harshly leaning forward, "Let's hear it," Craig smirks, peering down at Cartman challengingly.

"Yeah," Kenny agrees, bouncing in his seat, "I could use a good laugh."

"Uh…" Cartman elongates, sweatdropping as he narrows in on Craig's hate-filled expression, "I don't remember it, but I'm sure it was flattering."

"Dude, you literally did it two days ago," Kyle states, passing by the crowd on his way to the kitchen.

"Shut up, Kahl," Cartman growls through his teeth. He turns to Craig, who is rigidly staring him down. "Okay, fine. If you must know, it went something like this," Cartman awkwardly clears his throat, "My name is Craig. I like the color blue and Tweek," Cartman impersonates, barely lowering his voice an octave.

Craig cocks his eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the whole charade. "That's a pretty lame impression," he states, "but I can't say I'm surprised."

"I don't know," Kenny chimes in, "If he would've added something about guinea pigs and being gay, I think it would've been spot-on."

…

Later that evening, Tweek beams as he walks backwards into the backyard, holding both of Craig's hands in his while he drags him jauntily towards the trampoline, the blonde bubbling with excitement as they both flop down on the rubbery surface and gaze up at the stars. Tweek sighs while he stares up at the Moon, "Isn't this amazing? Ever since we got this, I spend almost every night here."

"You do?" Craig states, basking in the peacefulness of the sky, "That's surprising."

"Well, it beats lying in bed thinking about how much I miss you," Tweek exhales, a solemn expression washing over his face, the intense earnestness of the atmosphere sinking in, "Hey, Craig? Can I tell you something?" he asks, not even waiting for a response, "I think I'm gay."

Craig turns onto his stomach, trying to bite back the smile on his face, "No shit, dude. I saw those pink shutter shades."

"Hey, you had them first."

"I know, but they look better on you," Craig admits, unable to stop the smile from unfurling on his face. Craig scoots to the side, draping an arm around Tweek and burying his face in his shoulder. He looks up slightly, waiting until Tweek drifts to sleep before muttering these final words into the darkness, "Please…don't leave me," he whispers.

…

"Alright!" Kenny exclaims, eagerly rubbing his hands together as he turns to his friends upon the day's conclusion, "Before I go, last call for make outs!" he declares, gesturing to the houseguests as he backs down the front hallway towards the exit, "Kyle? Wendy?" he asks, pointing to each houseguest as he says their name, the five of them standing in a semi-circle near the front entryway, "Tweek and Craig at the same time? That would be hot," he suggestively comments, "Cartman? Oh, hell no. I'm going to veto that one before I vomit," he states, merely gagging at the thought. The housemates blankly stare at him, minus Craig, who is shooting Kenny a glare that could kill him while he holds Tweek. Kenny claps his hands and throws his arms up, satisfied with the outcome, despite the sweep of rejections, "Alright then. Kenny out!" he shouts, flashing double peace signs as he backs out the doorway.

"And just like that, he's gone," Kyle concludes, his spirits high after seeing his friend.

"Yeah…and thank God the memories won't last a lifetime," Cartman adds, dusting his hands off as he turns to exit the hallway.

"Ahem!" Token's voice blares from the loudspeaker.

Cartman cocks his forehead, "What, Token? You got something caught in your throat?"

"No, Cartman," he sighs, "But I believe there is still one person too many in this house."

"You're right," Cartman calmly nods, before swinging on his heels and pointing abruptly in Wendy's face, "Goodbye, Wendy Testaburger!" he cries.

Token groans, "I'm talking about Lord Sexington – I mean, Craig," he corrects. Craig rolls his eyes, Token's tone so snarky, he nearly hears the smirk.

"Oh yeah," Cartman coos with a nod, almost forgetting that Tweek and Craig aren't one person, "Well, good luck getting him out. Tweek looks like he's got a pretty tight hold on him," he states, gesturing over to the gays, who are holding onto each other like their ship is about to sink again.

Kyle crosses his forearms, "That's the understatement of the century," he comments.

The non-Creek trio turn to each other, exchanging glances before wandering into the living room together, giving the couple some time to properly say their goodbyes once more. They walk to the door. Tweek sighs as he slowly lets go of his love. "Craig, aren't you forgetting something?"

Craig tilts his forehead, tapping each of his fingers as he thinks this over and lists off everything he wanted to do, "Let's see…sleep with you, mess with Cartman, watch Kenny embarrass himself on national television…nope, that was everything on my list."

Tweek smiles, holding his hat up. "Don't you want your hat back?" he asks.

"Nah, you keep it. Apparently, I look cuter without it, and you look adorable cuddling it around the house," Craig adds with a smile, his eyes shining as he struggles to hold in his tears. Craig gazes lovingly down at him, "Bye, honey. I'll miss you."

Tweek sighs, cherishing their last minute together, "I'll miss you too," he says, pulling Craig into a warm embrace and resting his head sorrowfully on his shoulder. After a moment that they wish could last forever, Tweek steps back and sniffs, tearing up a bit as they part, but doing his best to be strong for his boyfriend, "-Now that's the understatement of the century," he grins, his face falling a bit once he sees the sadness in Craig's eyes. Tweek quickly leans forward and presses his lips against his. "Bye, tiger. I love you," he whispers as they part.

"I love you too, babe," Craig states, like he's never been more sure of something in his life, "Stay strong." Tweek watches as Craig retreats backwards towards the door, giving one final wave goodbye before exiting out of the Big Brother house for the second time.

Tweek eyes trail to the carpet as he lightly clenches his fists, feeling a strange wave of newfound determination flowing through him as the door latches shut behind his love.

"I will," Tweek whispers, adrenalin pumping through his veins, "I promise."

Chapter Text

Tweek Tweak
Tough Cookie

As of today, there are less than two weeks left in the competition; two weeks for me to prove to the jury that I'm the best player in the house. I expected this morning to feel like Week 6, Day 1 all over again, but surprisingly, it doesn't, and I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe after seeing Craig so distraught last night, I realized I have to be the strong one now. Not gonna lie, a lot of yesterday felt like some kind of weird fever dream, but there are two reasons why I know it really happened: one, the back wall is still missing, and two, my ass is sore. (laughs shamelessly behind his hand, face flushing)

"Oh my God, Tweek!" Token cries over the loudspeaker, his voice so filled with mortification, one can almost hear the facepalm, "Okay, cut. Everybody, cut! I gotta take five!" Token instructs to the crew members. Tweek chuckles as shuffling is heard above him and leans back on the diary-room sofa, the caffeinated blonde looking rather pleased with himself.

…

Eric Cartman
Delusional Fatass

Well, I have the looks, I have the smarts, and I have this game in the palm of my hand. All that's left now is for me to get my man. And after my impressive performance at the HOH competition, Kahl will practically throw himself at the opportunity to get with me. No more dumpster diving for companionship for him cause this buffet is open for business. (cocks his brow at the gruffly noise coming from the loudspeaker. He frowns.) – Quit gagging, Token!

…

Later that morning, Cartman steps into the living room, cradling the stereo in his palms like a man on a mission as he holds onto a microphone that he swiped from the equipment closet. Cartman grunts while he sets the stereo smackdab in the center of the room and aims its speakers towards the hallway entrance with his foot. Cartman reaches down and quickly switches the stereo on when he spies Kyle heading towards the kitchen with Wendy, the two in the middle of a seemingly civil conversation. The fatass takes a swift step away from the radio and holds the microphone up to his mouth. "Hello, fellow Big Brother contestants!" he cries, the mere volume of Cartman's tone causing both of the houseguests to stop in their tracks and gawk at him, "This is a message to everyone who just got out of a terrible relationship!" he boisterously blares, the static growing worse and worse the louder he yells into the microphone. "Sometimes love is hard, but sometimes you just have to get back out there and jump into something even better without thinking about any of the consequences!"

Wendy watches curiously as Kyle groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Cartman, is this going anywhere? Cause I really need to use the bathroom," he moans.

"Shut the fuck up, Kiel, I am trying to woo you here! Haven't you ever been wooed before? This is supposed to be romantic!" Cartman snarls, before quickly clearing his throat and easing back into his dulcet demeanor, "Anyway, you can run all you want, try to pretend that you like Douchebag, but – damn it – when we kiss, IT'S MAGIC!"

Kyle sighs, looking so horrified by this monstrous display that he wants to be devoured by the carpet, "We've never kissed," he states as Tweek quietly tiptoes into the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee behind him. He waves to Wendy from across the room.

Cartman rolls his eyes, "But if we did, it would be magic, Kahl!" he swoons, before holding the microphone above his nose and diving straight into the finale, "And I swear-"

"No, no, no! I am putting a stop to this now," Kyle cries, stomping forward and snatching the microphone out of Cartman's hands, Kyle's face red and fuming. "I'm not sure why everyone is just so damn concerned about my love life lately, but do me a favor and just stay the hell out of it. In fact, you two stay away from me altogether!" Kyle screams, sporadically gesturing to both Wendy and Cartman. Kyle runs his fingers through his hair, so unhinged that he can barely make it out of the room without bursting into tears.

Cartman stomps his foot, his face contorting at Kyle's apparent rejection, instantly dropping the whole niceness façade the second his plan goes awry, "Oh. You think you have problems? For some reason, all my underwear disappeared last night!" he yells after Kyle's retreating form. Cartman crosses his arms over his chubby torso while Tweek and Wendy exchange glances, trying to withhold their laughter, "It's the goddamn gnomes again! And I don't have a picture of Barbra Streisand to scare them off!" Cartman turns to the side and narrows his eyes at Tweek, who is still hovering around the kitchen counter. "And don't think I don't see what you did here, spaz," he growls, venom in his voice, "You were just trying to make me look bad to Kahl by making me serenade him, so that you could take all the guys for yourself!"

Tweek blinks, struggling to follow Cartman's nonsensical thought process, "I never told you to do any of that. I wasn't even there when you did it."

"Well, you may as well have! You were absolutely no help at all. How the hell did you ever get a boyfriend?!" Cartman rages, piling on the insults, "And way to scare him off, Wendy!" he huffs, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction as he kicks the stereo over. "God, you guys are dumbasses!" he sneers, before swerving on his heel and waddling down the hallway.

Tweek and Wendy turn to each other and shrug.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Insightful Rights Activist

Kyle is so emotionally fragile right now, I don't think even he knows what he wants. And honestly, after everything he's been through this season, I think it's only a matter of time before he completely loses it. And it's tough seeing someone you care about spiral – any sane person would tell you that.

…

Kyle races into the boys room, practically shaking as he slams the door behind him. He leans up against the door, releasing a rampant breath he didn't even know he was holding. Kyle sighs, gazing at the beeping camera above him. "We are almost two months into this competition, and I'm tense as hell," he laments, staring solemnly into the camera lens, "I don't think I've felt this awful in years, honestly," he states, giving a hefty exhale, "And for all of you who are thinking about possibly signing up to be on this show next year, my advice to you is…don't. Invest in some therapy instead."

A gentle knock chimes out from the other side of the door, "…Kyle?"

The redhead shrieks, nearly falling flat on his face as he stumbles forward. Kyle groans once he catches himself, his face a mere inch away from the fluffy carpet. He sighs and stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from the door. He grabs the shiny door handle and swings it open, finding himself face to face with the residence's judge of all things that sparkle and glow. Kyle narrows his eyes at her, "What do you want, Wendy?" he asks, his tone more exhausted than irritated.

Wendy smiles as she sheepishly steps into the room, carefully closing the door behind her. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. I know this morning was a lot and-"

"I'm fine, thanks. Now please leave me alone," Kyle states, turning his back to her, his tone unwavering and cruel.

Wendy sighs, "You are not okay. You're clearly hurting, Kyle," she observes, cutting through the crap as she reaches out to him, "And I just want to help make things better for you."

"Why?" Kyle fires, snapping his neck around and shooting her a piercing glare, "Because you want to make it to day 57?"

"No," Wendy blares, insulted that Kyle would even think that she would be so conniving, "Because I care about you, and I always have."

"If you really cared about me, then you would respect my boundaries, and clearly you don't," he says, folding his arms.

Wendy winces slightly, Kyle's chiding remark stinging more than she would like to admit. "Okay, that's fair. I'm sorry," she steps forward, her voice at a gentle whisper; Kyle's face softens at the sincerity, "I'll leave you alone."

Kyle watches as Wendy turns on her heels and heads towards the exit, his stomach sinking at her retreating form. "…Wendy?" Kyle whimpers, longing for positive human contact.

Wendy turns back, baffled by the vulnerable tone of his voice, "Yes?"

Kyle stumbles forward and latches onto her frame for dear life, closing the gap between them. Wendy gasps as Kyle deepens the kiss before melting into his arms, throwing the last of her good judgment out the shattered HOH-room window in the process.

Wendy lovingly sighs as Kyle gingerly pulls away from her, looking like he is going over every single one of his poor life decisions at warp speed and slapping this newest one on top. Kyle's eyes lock on Wendy's, his throat dry and his voice hoarse, "So…" he gulps, the atmosphere arid around them as he stares off into the desolate distance, "that was…?"

"Great," Wendy beams, reaching forward and giving Kyle's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah…great," Kyle's voice cracks, beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck as he lightheadedly turns towards the exit.

…

Eric Cartman
Living Example as to Why People Should Use Condoms

It's the final four, and I'm in control 'ere. I'm the conductor of this station wagon to the Moon and I have been since day 1, so these bitches better be nice to me, or they'll have a first-class ticket to the jury house tomorrow. Not that it matters much for them anyway, I mean, we all know who's going to be crowned the winner this season, and it's what I rightfully deserve. Now all that's left for me to do is to trim the excess fat and the money will be mine. Long live the King of Authoritah!

…

Later that afternoon, Cartman sashays into the dining room, dressed in a lush, velvet cape and wearing a discarded crown from Burger King that he found in the dumpster, a remnant of one of the crew members' lunch. Kyle rolls his eyes at the sight of him. Cartman stops a few inches from the dining room table, giving a majestic bow and blowing a few kisses to his inferior housemates. "Thank you, thank you, everyone!" Cartman chimes, his expression as jovial as a court jester's, "As your three-time HOH champion, it is time for me to announce my nominations for eviction this week," he states, using his outdoor voice. Cartman smiles smugly as he stares down at his three housemates, who are all sitting anxiously in their seats, hanging onto his every word as they wait for him to determine their fates. "In a perfect world, I would be able to nominate all three of you and kick out the two outliers tonight, but obviously that wouldn't follow Token's lame rules, so unfortunately, I can only nominate two of you for eviction and the person who is not selected for nomination will be the sole vote," he explains, rolling his eyes at the obligatory add in, "So, for Week 7, I nominate Wendy and Tweek," Cartman announces with a smirk. The houseguests exchange glances, none of them surprised at all by this news, "Wendy, I am nominating you because quite frankly, you're terrifying, and I don't want you to use any of that hoity-toity sparkle magic to ruin my chances at the finals," he states. Wendy nods, taking this in stride while Cartman licks his lips and turns to her competitor, "Tweek, look, there's no question that you have no shot at the money, and I think anyone who has even an ounce of brain cells would agree with me, so I'm nominating you as a pawn against Wendy." Across the table, Tweek nods, doing his best to stay emotionless. "Kahl," Cartman speaks, perching his hand on top of a nearby dining chair and cocking his hip, "You're the sole vote this week, so don't fuck this up," he warns.

Kyle gulps and turns to the side, his stomach dropping when he sees Wendy giving him a small wave and a flirtatious smile. Kyle turns back, looking ahead at the horizon through the gigantic hole in the wall, the panic train barreling ahead at full force.

…

Kyle Broflovski
As Stable as Cartman's Sanity

Why? Why did he do this to me? I know Cartman was actually doing me a favor by keeping me off the block this week, but this is definitely more of a curse than a blessing. Now I have to decide which one of these two goodhearted people to send home, and no matter who I choose, there are going to be repercussions for me.

…

Wendy Testaburger
Reformed Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

Evictions are tomorrow, and even though Kyle and I have patched things up a bit romantically, I'm more nervous than I have ever been in this game because my fate is about to be determined by the man who's been giving me more mixed messages in the last three weeks than I received in my entire relationship with Stan. I guess all I can really do now is just hope that Kyle does the right thing and keeps me around.

…

Kyle sighs as he flounders into the HOH room that evening, looking positively dead inside as he joins Cartman on the bed. Cartman grins, straightening his back a bit at Kyle's arrival. "Well, we did it, Kiel. We made it to finals," he coos.

Kyle knits his brow, puzzled by Cartman's premature declaration, "Uh…you do know there's still two other people in the house, right?"

"Oh, I know," Cartman replies, "But we're already on the surefire path to victory. As of today, we have complete control of the rest of this game. And in two weeks, we'll both be significantly richer," he states, releasing a blissful sigh at the thought. "We did everything we had to do to put ourselves in this position of power; we took out everyone we needed to take out to ensure our victory. And tomorrow, we will vote out the last person who could potentially snatch that victory away from us."

Kyle nods, his eyes trailing to the carpet before speaking into the newfound silence, "What about Tweek?" he asks suddenly.

Cartman cocks his forehead, looking at Kyle like he's talking gibberish, "What about Tweek?" he hisses.

"Well," Kyle begins, nervously playing with his hands, "if we take out Wendy this week like we planned, it won't be the finals yet; it'll be the final three. We'll still be one HOH competition away from us making a clean sweep."

Cartman chuckles, quickly waving this worry off like it's one of DogPoo's many garbage flies. "Man, you almost scared me there, Kiel. For a second, I thought we had a real problem," he responds, wiping a jaunty tear away from his eye, "But come on, that kid has never won anything in his life – he's a textbook loser. He'd have a better chance of growing a second head than winning that competition. We can beat him easily; he's placed last in like every competition here and it wasn't even close!" Cartman exclaims, throwing his arms up, "That's why we kept him around. And next week, when he drops out first like always, that money will be officially ours."

Kyle bites his lip, a mysterious feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. He shakes his head before he can dwell on it any further and turns to Cartman, an awkward aura lingering in the air. "Hey, Cartman? What was all that this morning?" he wonders, the question burning in his brain, "Why did you serenade me?"

Cartman scoffs and turns to the side, trying to hide his blush from Kyle, "Well, obviously, I had an ulterior motive there, Kahl. I was just trying to throw those two nincompoops off the scent."

"Uh-huh," Kyle states, crossing his arms.

"Yeah," Cartman squeaks, his voice jaded and confused, "I mean, I didn't want the two of them to know that we were working together, so-"

"…so you pretended to woo me?" Kyle completes, flashing the fatass a dubious expression.

"Yes," Cartman confirms, gradually gaining confidence, "And it was so good that even you thought it was real," he concludes, already believing his own lies. He sighs as he cradles himself in his arms, "Man, I really am the best," he gloats. Kyle rolls his eyes behind him.

…

Eric Cartman
Are you for real, dude?

Wendy's going home this week, and Kahl's going to be the one to do it, and I've never been so thrilled for an eviction in my life. (leans forward and condescendingly waves into the camera) – Bye-bye, Wendy Testaburger! (throws head back and laughs devilishly at the ceiling)

…

Later that evening, Kyle is back sitting in the boys room, staring somberly down at the floor. "Hey," Wendy chimes, waving a small greeting before she plops down on Stan's old bed across from him. Kyle looks up, giving a slight nod in her direction. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Kyle squeaks, lying through his teeth as he starts tracing patterns into his comforter, "It's a big decision, you know," he speaks into the silence, "We're at the homestretch."

"Yeah," Wendy agrees, scooting a tad closer to him, "Any idea what you're going to do yet?"

Kyle snaps his head up, his reservation melting when he sees the sanguine look in her eyes. "I think so."

Wendy smiles before reaching forward and wrapping Kyle into a loose hug. She pulls back and beams down at him, "Good," she states with a gentle pat on the back before sauntering out the door.

Kyle watches as Wendy exits, his stomach sinking further and further with each step she takes. The redhead sniffs, genuine tears filling his eyes as he gazes down at the carpet. "I'm sorry, Wendy," he whispers.

Wendy walks down the hallway, passing by Tweek, who is still on his bed in the girls room, his face filled with worry as he grips onto the sides of Craig's Space book.

…

Tweek Tweak
Secret Mastermind/Challenge Thrower

Kyle saved Wendy last week, and he's probably keeping her around because he feels like she's indebted to him, so this doesn't look like the recipe for my survival. (sighs) Most people would just give in…but I can't do it; I can't give up. I've come this far, and I've gotta find a way to make it farther. (gazes intensely into the camera) – Don't worry, Craig. I'll think of something – And lucky for you, I already have. (smiles)

I know Kyle, and I know what Kyle wants in this game: he wants an easy path to the finals. And over these past few weeks, I've been building him one. Last week, we knocked out who the jury said was the toughest competitor, and this week the last person who Kyle believes can beat him in the end is on the block. Kyle wants to drag Cartman to the finals as a goat – I know that. And I also know that they both believe that they're dragging me along as the sacrificial lamb that they can cut at the final three because I'm terrible at the challenges. But this game isn't black and white; it's not two-dimensional. As soon as you start seeing it as that, you'll get screwed over. There's a lot of things that they don't know and that I don't know either. But one thing I do know is that Kyle really values trust, so I'm just going to have to have faith that the bond I built with him is stronger than the damaged one that he has with Wendy. Cause in order for me to pull this off tonight, I need Kyle to believe that there's a higher probability of me taking him to the finals than Wendy taking him, even if it isn't true.

In the end, we're just both going to have to trust me. And I truly believe that he does. And hopefully, tonight is going to prove it. Cause if Kyle saved me once, like he did last week, he may be more inclined to do it again this week and the week after that. And at this point in the game, I need as many winning paths to the finals as I can get.

…

Early the next morning, Tweek is standing in the kitchen, stirring his coffee with a spoon, mesmerized by the moving patterns as he stares down at the mocha-colored swirls. Tweek sighs and takes a side step, clunking his spoon into the kitchen sink before taking an agonizingly long sip of coffee. He coughs, almost choking on some excess bean residue. "I swear someone's been tampering with this thing," Tweek mutters, turning towards the gigantic hole in the wall and smiling when his eyes land on the trampoline.

Kyle enters into the room behind him, looking like he just got rolled over by a truck. He stops beside Tweek and exhales as he stares out at the rising Sun. "You know, it's nearly dawn and yet I'm still surprised that you're up," Kyle cracks, attempting to lift up his own broken spirit, nudging Tweek playfully in the side.

"Ever since Craig left, I've reverted back to my old college sleep schedule, so that's been fun," Tweek smiles, taking another sip of his coffee.

"Sounds like it," Kyle nods, his shoulders slumping as they take in the morning sights, "Man, I can't wait until this whole thing is over," he confesses, not really caring who hears, "I just want to go home and get my life sorted out. I feel like this whole game has been one disaster after another for me and I'm just praying that it turns out okay."

Tweek gazes over at the redhead, doing one of the things he does best in this game: listening to other players pour their hearts out while making astute observations, "What would okay be for you?" Tweek speaks up, carefully going over this line in his head a few times before finally asking the question aloud.

Kyle turns to Tweek, stunned a bit by the response, "I just wanna make it to end, Tweek. I want it more than anything. I don't even care if I win," Kyle whispers, nervously chewing on the bottom of his lip, "I just wanna get there and still be me," he reveals, teardrops budding in the corners of his eyes as he struggles to push these final words out, "and I don't know if I can."

Tweek nods, a pensive look spread across his face while he stares out at the Big Brother backyard. "You know I would take you, right? 100%," Tweek states, gazing down at his fellow houseguest, "I don't want to go with Cartman. We both know he doesn't deserve a cent."

Kyle silently nods, voraciously taking in his information like his sanity depends on it. He turns back towards the outdoor scenery, a contemplative look gracing his features. "Do you think Wendy would take me?" he asks.

Tweek sighs, releasing his breath a little louder than necessary, "Honestly, man, I have no clue," he says, turning towards the redhead so he can better read his face, "She's still sore about the whole Bebe thing."

Kyle bites his lip, his eyebrows flaring a bit as he takes in this news. "Yeah…sometimes I just don't get her," he states into the silence.

After a moment, Tweek smiles as he turns back to his kind-of friend, "I really think you can do it, Kyle. I really think you can make it to the finals. You're resilient. That's one of the many things I admire about you."

Kyle closes his eyes and sighs, feeling a genuine bubble of happiness in his stomach for the first time since he had his emotional breakdown, "Thank you, Tweek," he hums, before opening his eyes and flashing the blonde a heartfelt grin, "I think you're pretty great too."

…

Wendy Testaburger
Pessimistic Green-hat-loving Rights Activist

I woke up this morning and it just seemed like everything finally sunk in; the clouds have parted, Bebe came before me in a dream, and I now see the truth: Tweek and I have been played. We've been played since the very beginning by Kyle and Cartman, and the more I think about it, the more it makes me sick because we both worked so hard to get to this point, only to find out that we never really had a shot. Because at the end of the day, if I'm sitting next to either Kyle or Cartman in the finals, what can I say? They both have flashier games than I do; they both dominated strategically and physically and ran this house since Week 2. And what have I done that even comes close to matching what they did? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. (wipes away a few tears from her eyes with her hand and sniffs) – Sorry. I'm just not having a good day today. I wanted to win that last HOH for Bebe, I wanted it so bad, but I couldn't even do that. (sniffles) I guess it's always hard to accept when something you really care about is over.

…

Fifteen minutes before yet another dreadful eviction ceremony, Tweek and Wendy are sitting somberly on the floor of their weekly powwow spot, sitting side by side against the storage-room wall. Wendy sighs as turns to him, the hopelessness of their situation sinking in a second time. "Well, I guess this is it," Wendy speaks depressingly into the silence, "By this time tomorrow, one of us will be gone. As much as I hate to say it, it looks like it's going to be a Kyman finale," Wendy adds, complete with a roll of her eyes.

Tweek turns to his friend, a perplexing glint in his pupils. "Wendy, you have to trust me. This isn't over. We can still do this," he states with a surprising amount of conviction.

"How can you say that?" Wendy asks, cocking her forehead at the absurdity, "Our backs are against the wall, Tweek. They've been controlling this game since the very beginning," she sighs, "We never really had a shot."

Tweek's gaze trails to the floor, having a hard time keeping the negativity from consuming him. He shakes it off and stares into his teammate's eyes, "No, they haven't. That's just the way it looks on the surface," he replies, his voice oozing with confidence, "We've done a lot of great things in this house."

"But to win, we have to prove that we were dominating," Wendy reminds him, hoping to prepare her friend to be disappointed by the outcome of this journey before the rug is pulled out from under him in an embarrassing public spectacle, "And you and I didn't even come close."

"There's a lot of ways to win Big Brother, Wendy. It's not always about your resume. Sometimes it's about capitalizing on your opponent's shortcomings," he says, hoping to drill this point home, "If Craig has taught me anything, it's that things are never as hopeless as they seem-"

"Tweek, it's over, okay?" Wendy sighs, her patience slowly subsiding, "Any jury is going to look at us and say that we were jokes. There was no manipulation, no secret strategy, nothing that even comes close to Kyle or Cartman." Tweek nods dutifully beside her as his gaze shifts to the floor, although it's clear there's a hint of doubt in his expression, "We were outplayed. And if one of us is even lucky enough to make it to the end, the entire jury will see it," Wendy laments, internally kicking herself for being so foolish. Her face softens at the sight of her friend, "I'm sorry we have to go up against each other, but we made it as far as we could together. I'm happy we got the opportunity to become friends again," she smiles, talking straight from the heart as she places a delicate and reassuring hand on his shoulder, "I missed you."

Tweek nods once more as a heavy wave of guilt comes crashing down on him. He swallows, on the verge of tears as he feels the truth crawling up the back of his throat, itching to be heard. "I missed you too," Tweek pauses, the guilt now burrowing into his stomach. He turns to the blank wall across from him and takes a deep, calming breath, "Wendy, there's something you should know," he squeaks, trying to squash the unbearable guilt with his hand as he starts twitching uncontrollably.

Wendy cocks her eyebrow, already sensing the seriousness of this discussion. "Okay," she breathes, "What?"

…

Kyle Broflovski
Emotionally Fractured Strategist

This is it; everything that I have worked for has come down to this moment. This decision could win or lose me the game. Personally, I think both Wendy and Tweek are good players, and I think there's a lot of pros and cons for keeping each of them. But it's getting down to the wire here. Every move holds more and more weight the closer you get to the end. At this point, everyone should be playing selfishly because that's really the only way you can win this game. I can't let anything get in the way; I have to stay focused. Cause this is potentially a half-million-dollar decision, and it's one I have to make alone.

…

That evening, the final four is gathered in the living room, awaiting Token's instructions. The two nominees – Wendy and Tweek – are sitting on the two lush lounge chairs while Kyle and Cartman each take one of the surrounding sofas, the former so nervous that he is wringing his hands.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to your seventh and – what very well could be – most dramatic eviction ceremony to date!" Token declares, throwing his arms up in emphasis, even though the houseguests can't see the gesture. The atmosphere is so tense that one could cut it with a knife, "This eviction ceremony is a little bit different than the previous ones because unlike all the prior evictions, this one will be determined by a single vote," he explains, narrowing in on Kyle, who looks like he is about to drop dead from all the pressure, his mind an emotional hurricane, "So, this is how it's going to work," Token begins, shooting a charismatic smile, "in just a moment, both of the nominees will have an opportunity to make their final pitches to the lone voter, then I will have Kyle stand up and deliver his verdict face to face," he announces, licking his lips at this potential shitshow, "Remember, once Kyle reveals his vote for eviction, the evicted houseguest will have one minute to gather his or her belongings and walk out the front door. But before we do that, I'm going to give each of the nominees one last chance to convince Kyle to keep them. Wendy, I'm going to start with you."

"Alright," Wendy states with a nod. She turns to Kyle, her hands clasped on her lap, as poised as can be. "Kyle, you and I have had quite the journey here. And even though there were a lot of ups and downs, I really appreciate everything we got to be," she genuinely delivers, holding back a few tears as she swallows, "At the end of the day, you know how I feel about you, and I sincerely hope that you feel the same about me."

"Ookay…a bit of an unconventional final speech, but I like it, Testaburger, even though I am an ex-boyfriend," Token chimes in with a sweatdrop, before turning his attention to her fellow nominee, "Tweek, you're next."

Tweek nods, aiming a small smile at the loudspeaker, "Thanks," Tweek takes a second to collect himself before turning to the redhead, "Kyle, I don't have much to say. You know that I respect you as a player and as a person. I hope you make the decision that's right for you, and if that means getting rid of me, then I understand," he adds, nodding firmly.

"And with that, we have reached the end of the speech portion, so Kyle," Token pauses and stares down at the human train wreck that is Kyle Broflovski, whose gaze hasn't left the floor since Wendy began talking, "whenever you're ready, please stand up and announce to all your fellow houseguests who is going home tonight."

"Okay," Kyle squeaks, his legs shaking so much that he can hardly pull himself upright. Kyle takes a step forward, stopping at the base of the coffee table. He turns to the two nominees, both of whom are holding their breaths. Wendy is staring up at Kyle, her eyes puffy but full of hope while Tweek stares at the carpet, his hands clasped in the classic prayer position. "Hey, guys," Kyle states, his voice breaking a bit at the greeting, "This was a really tough decision and one that I didn't take lightly. No one wants to be in this position at the final four but someone had to, and unfortunately, I drew the short end of the stick this week," Kyle says, his trembling knees picking up speed, "Wendy," he sighs, so emotionally fatigued that he can barely look at her, "I care about you a lot, but I just don't think you and I have a future together, both here or in the game," he confesses. Cartman's jaw drops to the floor at the casualness of Kyle's rejection. He quickly covers his mouth and starts giggling into his hand while Tweek's eyes widen from his lounge chair. Next to him, Wendy looks positively humiliated, "I'm so sorry, Wendy, but I want to win, and in order to do that, I have to let you go. That's why tonight, I vote to evict you," he states, stone-faced and cold, delivering this news like the final twist of a knife.

The crowd is silent as they soak in every second of this dramatic shitshow. Cartman is smirking devilishly from his sofa, his plan of splitting them up finally coming to delicious fruition after weeks of watching Kyle gallivant around with the raven-haired loudmouth.

"Wow," Token coos above them, still in utter disbelief like the rest of them, "She just got dumped on national television…"

"That's brutal, Kahl," Cartman tisks, shaking his head from the sofa, earning a glare from the ginger in response.

"Well, as difficult as that was to watch, the show must go on, so I'm sorry, Wendy, but with Kyle's sole vote for eviction, you are the seventh person evicted from the Big Brother house," Token announces over the loudspeaker, making it official.

All eyes are on Wendy as she continues sitting in her lounge chair, grasping onto the arms so tight, the fabric is starting to tear off. Finally, after a few deep breaths and some angry twitching, she stands up from her seat, passing by Kyle, who is desperately trying to catch her eyeline.

Wendy stops beside her betrayer, shooting him a piercing glare that would cause most people to run home crying to their mothers. "I trusted you twice in this game, and each time you let me down," Wendy snarls, hoping to make Kyle feel as humiliated as she does, "Congratulations, Kyle. You're now the new King of Darkness, and all it cost you was your soul," she spits, before swerving on her heel and barreling towards the door. Tweek follows behind her at a safe distance while Kyle shakes his head at the immaturity of her departure.

The tight duo arrives at the door, Wendy reaching down and thrusting her duffel bag onto her shoulder. She turns to her only remaining friend, tightly gripping his shoulders as she stares intensely into his eyes, her tone matching her dire expression, "You have to do this, Tweek. You have to win that final HOH next week. You've worked too hard in this game to get third. Don't you dare make me have to choose between Kyle and Cartman."

Tweek weakly nods and pulls her into a hug, sniffling as a stream of tears cascade down his cheeks. The pair share a heartfelt embrace goodbye before Wendy steps away. Tweek watches in awe as Wendy pulls off her signature, fuchsia beanie to reveal her lucky headband underneath. She grabs it, slides it off, and wraps it tightly around his wrist in one swift motion. "Here," she states, tapping on it lightly after securely placing it on his body, "Hopefully you'll have better luck with it than I did," she wishes, flashing a genuine smile for the first time since her public humiliation. Tweek continues to hold his arm out, tearing up at the gesture, "Good luck, Tweek. Show everyone the badass that you are. You know I'll be rooting for you."

"I will," Tweek promises, "and thank you!" he calls out after her, watching as his last remaining friend exits out the door without so much as a wave in the other two's direction. Tweek stares down at the floor and sighs, all the sadness of losing her toppling over in that moment. Tweek slides down the wall and sobs, the water dribbling onto his hands. Even though there are still two other people left in the house, he now feels completely alone.

Chapter Text

Cartman is standing smack dab in the center of the living room, sporting the biggest shit-eating grin he has all season as watches Miss Wendy Testaburger officially leave the Big Brother residence, basking in the deliciousness of this event as he replays it in his mind over and over again. Kyle is tentatively standing beside him, chewing on his bottom lip. "Man," Cartman coos, his arms crossed and his stance firm, "I can't believe you had the balls to do that."

"What choice did I have?" Kyle shrugs, "She was never going to be happy with my decision. I knew fighting it would be a lost cause. I came to win."

"But at what cost?" Cartman smirks, nudging Kyle playfully in the side, the redhead stiff as a block of wood, "I'm just messing with you, Kahl. I respect you so much right now. That's like something I would do!"

Kyle freezes in place, his eyes widening like saucers as this statement seeps into his soul. "Oh my God…" he whispers, before scurrying straight to the diary room.

Kyle Broflovski
Cartman with a Conscience

I've made a terrible, terrible mistake, haven't I? Please don't tell me Wendy was right. (leans forward, gripping on to the cameraman for dear life and shaking him back and forth, near hysterical) – Please don't tell me I've become Cartman!

…

Tweek Tweak
Secret Mastermind/Sassy Coffee Bean

I'm really shocked. I honestly thought there was a good chance I was leaving tonight cause I never kissed Kyle's face before, but clearly, he thought Wendy was the bigger threat. And maybe he was right; maybe she was. But we're so close to the end that I'm starting to believe I have a shot. Kyle and Cartman think they've been controlling this game since Week 4, but I'm not going to give up. If they want to take me out, then they're going to have to beat me fair and square.

…

Early the next morning, Tweek is standing in the kitchen, perched up against the kitchen island as he stares reflectively out the brand-new sliding glass door, the gift courtesy of the host, who finally found the time to replace the wall that Craig destroyed almost a week prior. Tweek calmly sighs, tenderly gripping his coffee cup while he gazes up at the sunset, trying to find the strength to continue on this journey alone.

"Last night was probably the first time in a while that I've felt extremely alone," Tweek voices over, the camera transitioning to a shot of Tweek lying down on his bed in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Only his setup and belongings remain, the rest of the room is barren around him, "My last friend in the house and arguably my biggest ally in this game was evicted yesterday, and it's tough to try to bounce back and find the strength to keep going," he sniffs, a tear rolling down his cheek as he stares up at the ceiling, "This game is tricky because you want your biggest allies on the jury, but you don't want to be the one responsible for sending them there. I miss Craig, I miss Wendy…but I can't let them go in vain. So, taking a page from the Book of Wendy, I gotta regroup and refocus and pour all of my fight into this final HOH competition. Because if I win that, then I'll have a chance at the grand prize, and I'll be able to make my case to the jury. And honestly, after everything that's transpired so far this season, the thought of that happening is still mind-boggling to me."

…

Eric Cartman
Evil Fatass

Twelve sweet, delicious hours ago, my nemesis took out my other nemesis in a fiery display of utter torment and humiliation…and I had a front row seat. (lovingly sighs) – Man, this couldn't have worked out any better for me. And in less than two weeks, I will be crowned the king.

…

Later that morning, Cartman is lounging on one of the living room sofas, taking a monstrous yawn while he stares at the wall in front of him. Cartman sighs, impatiently tapping his foot on the carpet. "Oh my God, this week is so boring!" he complains, rolling his head back at the camera, "I should just freeze myself, then they can unthaw me when it's the final two," he moans as Tweek hovers around the kitchen island behind him, cradling his coffee mug.

…

Tweek Tweak
Secret Mastermind/Sassy Coffee Bean

Honestly, being in a house with just Kyle and Cartman is nothing short of pure torture. They fight a ton and spend all day conspiring against me, and on the off chance they do talk to me, it's only to shit talk the other one. If you ever wanted someone to experience the earthly definition of pure torture, just lock them in a room with Kyle and Cartman for an hour. I guarantee you they'll come out screaming. (sighs, clasping his hands together and gazing pleadingly up at the ceiling) – Jesus, please see me through this.

…

"It was just hilarious seeing her heart rip in half, dude," Cartman comments, hanging out with Kyle in the living room that afternoon, the pair completely unaware of the blonde who is peeking around the corner, "That's definitely one of my top-five favorite moments – next to me farting on those bitches and sending Craig home."

"Uh-huh," Kyle mutters, looking like he is already done with this conversation as he picks at some excess lint on the sofa arm.

"Hey, remember when you drank that glass of urine?" Cartman asks through a wall of chuckles, "That was pretty sweet too," he laughs, stopping when he notices the troubled expression on Kyle's face. He slaps him on the arm once before leaning back pompously on the sofa, "Lighten up, Kahl, you're totally crushing my spirit 'ere."

Kyle sighs and stares at the carpet, "Sorry. It's just-I don't know, don't you feel bad at all about anything that we did?"

Cartman scrunches his forehead, staring at Kyle like he has a second head, "Kiel, I literally never feel bad about anything ever. Besides, this is Big Brother, you're supposed to be ruthless. That's the only way you can win. You gotta quit letting this stuff get to you. It's a backstabby game, no one makes it to the final three without blood on their hands."

Kyle exhales, thinking this over, "I guess you're right. I'm just not really the 'ruthless' type."

"Well, you better get used to it, cause we're cutting goldilocks the day after tomorrow. With him gone, Craig's vote will be up for grabs, then it's anyone's game between the two of us," Cartman states, casually picking at his fingernails, "and our final battle will commence."

…

Tweek Tweak
Secret Mastermind/Sassy Coffee Bean

It's tough hearing Cartman bash my friends and seeing Kyle just cave in, but the only person I truly have loyalty to is Craig, and he walked out the door three weeks ago. Right now, Cartman and Kyle both believe that this is their game to lose. But I realized something right around the time those two came to power: this game isn't about the competitions; it's not even about the strategy; it's about relationships. And they've burned a lot of bridges to get to where they are. – And I haven't, and that could end up biting them. Because even if you are the greatest strategic mastermind this game has ever known, if you treated everyone on the jury like dirt…no one will vote for you.

…

Later that afternoon, Kyle is lying down on his mattress, holding Dee's letter above him. He sighs as he carefully traces the edges of it with his eyes, longing to know what's inside but too scared to face the consequences. Tweek carefully steps into the room and softly plops himself down on Stan's former mattress, Kyle setting the letter on his chest at Tweek's arrival. "You still haven't opened it?" Tweek asks, "I gave that to you a few days ago."

Kyle shakes his head, gently pushing the letter back into Tweek's arms, "No. I guess I'm just not ready to hear that it's over," he sighs, sitting up against the wall.

"I can understand that. Breakups are tough," Tweek replies as Kyle's eyes drift to the comforter, "especially on the children. I remember when Craig and I briefly broke up and Clyde kept sending me crying emojis. He sent so many that it flooded my inbox," Tweek recalls, giving a small smile at the gesture, "And then the fanart came in…" he states, his eyes widening at the recollection, "-Oh God."

Kyle nods, a hopeful glint in his eyes as he fiddles with a tissue, "Then you guys got back together?"

"Yeah, we got back together," Tweek confirms, "And Craig was so ecstatic, he wouldn't leave my side for a week. And then the wave of makeup fanart started…" he reminisces, staring out into space once more, "Oh God…" he shudders, "But the point is as long as two people are willing to work on things, their relationship is never really over, so don't count yourself out before you even know how she feels," he says, patting Kyle gently on the back as he hands him the letter, "Good luck, man."

Kyle silently nods as he stares down at the hindrance in his palms. He sighs as he flops back down on his bed and stares dejectedly at the ceiling. "Thanks," he mutters demurely while Tweek exits, "I'll need it."

…

Tweek Tweak
The Surprising Voice of Reason

Five years ago, I broke up with Craig to try and find my own identity. This lasted one week, which was the longest seven days of either of our lives. I regret putting him through it, but I don't regret trying to form my own sense of self-worth. And since Craig was evicted, I've had another opportunity to find myself. And for the first time in a while, I actually feel proud of my accomplishments. And I hope that everything I've done in this game since Craig left has made him proud too.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Bamboozled Ginger

Five weeks ago, Cartman approached me with a plan that would allow us to steamroll our way to the finals. Honestly, I'm astonished that the plan worked so well and that soon, Cartman and I are going to be the final two. Now, all that's left for me to do before I get there is to ensure that I have Tweek's jury vote.

…

Early that evening, Kyle is sitting in the boys room, attempting to do Cat's Cradle with Tweek. Tweek smiles as he leans his hands forward, holding out the webbed string structure for Kyle to grab. "Man, this is way more fun when you have someone who knows how to play," Tweek comments with a grin, "Usually, I have to use my feet if I want to do this on my own."

Kyle laughs and swerves his pinched fingers down, transforming the string into a whole new pattern. "So, have you given any thought as to who you would vote for?" Kyle wonders, "I've been preparing my hypotheticals just in case."

Tweek cocks his forehead, baffled that Kyle would bring this topic up so prematurely, "You mean if I was on the jury?" Kyle nods. Tweek bites his lip at the response, "I don't know. There's a lot of things to consider. And I'm sure there's a lot of info out there about you two that I don't know," he says, reaching forward to continue with the game. "How about you? Are you a lock for Cartman? I mean, you guys do have pretty similar games," he casually states, hoping to get under Kyle's skin a little with the comment.

Kyle's face scrunches, utterly stupefied by his response, "I really don't think that's the case, but honestly, for me, I'd vote for the person who executed their strategy the most effectively, cause in my opinion, that's the toughest part." Tweek nods, taking this information in stride.

…

Tweek Tweak
Unofficial Eighth Jury Member

Kyle and Cartman have been treating me like I'm already on the jury. But I'm still here, and there's still a challenge left to be won. Kyle and Cartman both think that that money is theirs, but it's not. It's really mine. It's been mine since day 1…they just don't know it yet. (smirks) And that's the kind of blind confidence that I need if I'm going to pull off the impossible and win…even if I don't necessarily believe it.

…

An hour later, Tweek is lying on his makeshift double bed in the girls room, wrapped in one of Craig's navy-blue sweaters. He blissfully sighs as he hugs himself. "Craig left a lot of his belongings here after he left," Tweek voices over, "I know he'll claim it was out of sheer laziness, but I think he purposely left them here cause he knows I like wearing his stuff. It's comforting for me." Tweek sits up and beams at the camera, "Craig says I look better in his clothes than he does. And that is 100% true."

Tweek springs out of bed and starts exuberantly dancing in front of the camera. "Craig, look! I'm wearing your pants. That is so gay!" he chuckles, before falling down on his back with a sigh, covering his face with his hands in reflex. "I miss you so much, baby."

"I miss you too, babe," Tweek replies, lowering his voice a tad as he dangles the gold Craig pendant in front of his face. "You are so hot. You are way hotter than coffee!"

Tweek quickly jerks his head up, sweatdropping as he makes awkward eye contact with the camera. "Um…please don't air that on public television."

…

Eric Cartman
The Guy We Love to Hate

Well, this is it. Today is the day I win my final HOH of the season, so I can sweep my competitor when I make it to the finals next week. I'm at the homestretch. And when I win tonight, I'll have made it through this entire game without ever being put on the block. Talk about a dominant performance!

I've been on my best behavior since the very beginning, so I should have this one in the bag. I would be an idiot to take anyone but Kahl to the final two with me. Once I get there, all I'll have to do is tell everyone on the jury that everything Kiel did was my idea. Then, bam! The money is mine. (smiles smugly)

I don't know what the hell Tweek would be able to say to the jury. He'd probably just start blubbering about being away from Craig for two weeks and then burst into tears for some sympathy votes. Honestly, I have thought about taking Tweek to the end for the laugh once I win this HOH, just to see the jury tear into him, but in my mind, he doesn't even deserve the fifty thousand dollars.

…

Tweek Tweak
The Hero We Deserve?

I came into this house with a plan, and honestly, I never thought I would make it this far. But a big part of this game is being adaptable, and I think I've done a good job of blending in with the crowd – which is difficult for someone like me. Now, it's down to the final three, and there's nowhere left to hide, so if I want to make it to the end, I'm going to have to do it myself, and right now, I'm 0-7 in the HOH competitions. I have placed dead last in every single one, so the odds are definitely stacked against me here. But I'm not going to give up because that's exactly what those two want – they want an easy path to the finals, and no matter what happens, I gotta make sure that I don't give it to them. There's no one left to stop them but me. This is it. If I don't win this, I'm done.

In the final three, whoever wins the HOH competition gets to pick who gets to sit next to them in the finals. I have to win because I know if either Cartman or Kyle do, they're taking each other. And I haven't been separated from Craig for this long for nothing. I have to win this for him. (eyes shining) – I have to win this for me. (awes, tearing up a bit) – And honestly, I think the most pressure is coming from myself. This HOH competition is going to be, in the words of my former self, 'way too much pressure, man.' (smiles and laughs) – But I can do it…because I'm stronger than I think. (pauses slightly) Right, Craig? (hold up Craig pendant and starts talking for him) – Yes, honey. (simpers)

…

Bright and early that morning, Cartman and Kyle are gathered in the HOH room, psyching themselves up for the biggest and most crucial HOH competition of all. "Man, I really hope I win today," Kyle states between knee stretches, "It would be great to win the final competition of the season."

"Psh!" Cartman tisks, crossing his forearms over his chubby torso and shaking his head at the Jew, "Come on Kiel, we both know you're not going to win this. You don't understand how this whole thing works."

Kyle cocks his forehead, puzzled by this news, "What do you mean?" he wonders.

"People always root for the underdog, Kahl. The person who fought from the bottom this whole game and succeeded against all odds," Cartman explains. The camera shoots to Tweek, who is standing alone in the center of the girls room, dressed in his everyday attire and staring out at the outfit on his bed. He grabs Craig's signature navy jacket and puts it on, zipping it over his classic olive-green button-up.

"And this season, that's obviously me!" Cartman beams, rolling his eyes up at Kyle's stupidity as the camera switches back to Tweek, who has moved to the bathroom to put on his last two items. He grabs Wendy's lucky headband and wraps it around his right wrist as Cartman's voice continues droning on to Kyle, "So trust me when I tell you that that loser, Spazzy McSpaz, doesn't have a shot." Lastly, the blonde bends down and grabs his Wonder Tweek sash, which he recreated this morning specifically for the competition. He determinedly gazes forward and ties it around his head, before leaning his hands against the porcelain sides of the structure. Staring into the mirror over the sink, Tweek gives his reflection a zealous nod, hoping to feel his friends' strength and presence channeling through him to give him the motivation he needs to help him win it for the both of them.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Level-headed Jew Boy

It's hard to believe that I am potentially one competition away from half a million dollars. It's crazy to think about, but this is my reality for the next few hours.

…

Tweek Tweak
Badass Coffee Bean

I've battled addiction; I've escaped from my shitty parents; I've aimed a bazooka at Steven Spielberg's head. I can do this; I'm strong. And today, I'm wearing clothes from the three strongest people I know: Craig, (points to jacket) Wendy, (holds arm up and gestures to headband) …and me. (points to his head, his eyes shining in epiphany) – You know, I used to only want to win this game for Craig, but now I'm starting to want it for me too.

I haven't had coffee in twelve hours, so I don't have much body heat, and the forecast is downpour, so the odds are really stacked against me on this one, but I don't think I've ever wanted something so bad before. I've been underestimated my entire life. My own parents don't even believe in me. They're not even watching this right now – they'd rather watch Wheel of Fortune. But hopefully today, all this struggle is finally going to pay off.

There's only one way I can win this game, and that's if I win the challenge tonight. Because if I win, they can't get rid of me, and I'll blow this season wide open.

…

The final three remaining houseguests walk into the Big Brother backyard that night, the trio immediately lulling in their tracks when they see a lone podium set up beside the trampoline. Kyle and Cartman stop and turn to each other, flashing puzzled expressions. Token steps out from behind the trampoline, the host's presence earning a scream from the resident blonde. "Thanks, Tweek," Token mutters, before clapping his hands together and turning to the small crowd, "Hello, everyone, and welcome to your eighth and final HOH competition," he announces, sporting a solid tan Gucci sweater and black dress pants, "Since this is a special occasion, I decided to join all of you in person. The rules of this challenge are very simple: all you gotta do is hang on to your key," Token smirks, gesturing over his shoulder to the three giant golden keys that are sticking out of the built-in box that is infused on the podium-like structure, "As a special surprise, the entire jury will be watching this competition live from the sequestered jury house. Of course, you can't hear or see them, but they'll be able to hear and see you," he reminds them, stepping forward with a smirk, "The last one standing with their hand on their key wins the final HOH competition and is guaranteed a spot in the final two, where they will get to plead their case to their former houseguests on why they deserve the win and the five hundred thousand dollars. This is it. Give it all you got. This game itself is built around uncertainty," he instructs, pointing firmly down at the ground in emphasis, "Winning this competition is the only sure-fire way that you will make it to the finals. This competition could last five minutes or it could go all night, but we are not stopping until we have a winner. Are there any questions?" he asks, clasping his hands together.

"Yes. Can we push Tweek off now just to save him the five seconds?" Cartman smirks, shooting his hand up.

"You can't push, shove, or punch anyone away from the box, Cartman. It's against the rules," Token answers with a sigh, "Now, everyone, take your places. This challenge is about to begin!"

The final three walk over to the podium and take their positions, each of them standing at one of the triangular corners. Kyle turns to Tweek and smiles, scanning his outfit over, "Nice jacket, Tweek."

Tweek nods firmly, doing his best to remain focused as he fully embraces Craig's usual stoic demeanor, "Thank you, Kyle."

"Go ahead and grab your key," Token instructs from the sidelines. The trio does what they are told, Tweek glaring determinedly at Cartman as he wraps his fingers around his key, "Alright, from here on out, if you let go, you're out of the running. Have fun, everybody. I know I will," the host grins.

"Goddammit, Token. You are such a jerk!" Cartman blares, rolling his eyes.

Meanwhile, in the jury house, the six jurors are gathered in the living room, huddled around the TV. Wendy, Craig, and Stan are sitting on the sofa while Bebe and Clyde are propped on the arms on either side of them, hoping to get a good view. Kenny is sprawled out on the carpet near the coffee table as Butters walks into the room carrying a bowl of popcorn covered with his namesake. "Did it start already? Shoot."

Wendy smiles as she stares at the screen, which is now showing a closeup of the final three contestants. "Aww…he's wearing my headband," Wendy coos, raving over her friend's appearance while next to her, Craig is dressed in Tweek's favorite olive-green shirt.

Clyde whistles from the opposite end of the sofa, "Hey, Token looks good in that sweater," he comments, igniting a sea of glares in response, "What? He does!" he shrugs, before swiftly changing the subject. In front of him, Butters plops beside Kenny on the carpet and hands him the bowl, "So? Who are we rooting for?"

"Kyle," Stan answers, not skipping a beat while Wendy simultaneously answers 'Tweek' beside him. A few more houseguests chime their preferences as well with one name noticeably absent.

"Is anyone here rooting for Cartman?" Clyde wonders, cocking his forehead. A cricket chirps from the windowsill, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Back in the backyard, the final three are now an hour into the competition and everyone looks as fresh as a spring daisy – whatever that means. Cartman huffs and taps his shoe against the grass, already growing impatient by how long his victory is taking. Cartman turns to Kyle, a sinister plan hatching in his brain. "You know, Kahl, this is actually a dream scenario for us, cause all we gotta do is just wait for little Wonder Tweek here to fall, then the winner can vote him off tomorrow," he beams, flashing his teeth at Tweek like a hungry hyena. Tweek doesn't budge.

After a string of failed attempts at getting a reaction out of the blonde, Cartman sighs and prepares to fire up the big guns. "You know Tweek, I'm surprised you're letting Craig be away from you for long. We all know how much of a wandering eye he has. It's almost as bad as his self-control."

"Really?" Kyle squeaks, his brow scrunched, "That doesn't sound like Craig at all."

"Shut up, Kahl!" Cartman fires, "Do you want to win this by 10 p.m. or not?"

Kyle shakes his head, "I really don't think we're going to be done with this in less than an hour, dude. We're going to be here all night," he sighs, leaning forward and resting his head against the box.

Cartman sighs while he watches the digital wall clock mounted above Token reach ten at night. He turns to his alliance member, who is still resting his head against the box – his green trapper hat covering most of his face. "Kiel. Pst…Kiel," Cartman coos, tapping the ginger with his free hand. Kyle moans and lifts his head up, "I have an idea. Let's make out."

"Eww, no!" Kyle cries, pulling himself upright as far as he can go.

Cartman pouts, "Did you have to say the 'eww', Kahl? Was the 'eww' really necessary?" he retorts, his face reddening.

Kyle rolls his eyes. He turns to Tweek, who is still standing beside him, staring straight at the wall. Kyle looks to Cartman, "I swear he hasn't moved since we started," he comments.

A boisterous rumble chimes on the horizon as the time approaches eleven o'clock. Kyle quickly springs up, his eyes widening at the dark and raging storm clouds that have formed above them. "What the hell was that?!" he shrieks.

"Ooh, baby. Here we go!" Token sings, rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation as he zips up his bright yellow designer raincoat and steps under the awning.

Kyle tilts his head, "Here what goes?"

Another rumble of thunder blares above them as a torrential downpour unleashes from the clouds, soaking the final three in a matter of seconds. "Oh my God!" Kyle shrieks, the water making the keys significantly harder to grasp, combined with the wind that is picking up around them, rippling through Craig's pants on the power line, "This can't be legal!"

"Come on! You gotta really want it!" Token shouts over the roaring skies from the sidelines as all three of the houseguests start shaking miserably from the cold, the rain still plummeting down at full-force, "Nothing in this game comes easy. You should know that by now!"

"Well, this isn't fair. Tweek clearly has the advantage," Clyde remarks from the sofa. He locks eyes with Bebe, who flashes him a puzzled expression, "He's fuckin' Wonder Tweek. He's fueled by the weather," he answers.

Five minutes later, the rain lets up a tad, the trio utterly exhausted from the spectacle. Cartman smirks as he watches Tweek struggle to lift his head from the box, his upper half heavy from the storm. "Come on spaz, why are you even bothering with this?" Cartman asks, fueled by his misery, "Everyone knows that you're not going to win. Do you honestly think you have a chance against either of us?"

Kyle lifts his head, drenched but still at about 50%, "Cartman-"

"I mean it, Kahl!" he shouts, amplifying his voice in anger, "He hasn't done one thing all game except be Craig's semen pocket and follow Wendy around like a puppy. He's fuckin' pathetic!"

Tweek sighs, his left elbow covering his face as he tries his best to shake these words off. He grips the key in his right hand even tighter.

Four hours in, the clock is approaching midnight, the trio now starting to itch a bit after being out in the rain for about an hour. Tweek picks his head up slightly, an unpleasant sensation burning in his abdomen. He looks to Token, raising his free hand, "Um, what do we do if we have to use the bathroom?"

"Well, there are no bathroom breaks, Tweek, so you either hold it or piss yourself," Token chimes, barely looking up from his phone as he leans back – warm and dry – on one of the luxury lounge chairs, a glass of lemonade in his hand.

Tweek nods and turns straight ahead, the fatass shooting him a shit-eating grin as Tweek weighs over his options, "Hmm…what would Craig do?" he whispers, tapping his chin lightly before giving a shrug, "Well, I guess I'm wetting myself," Tweek replies as unfazed as possible. Kyle steps back a bit as Tweek unzips his fly, staring Cartman straight in the eyes as he pisses on the lawn, a fierce, unfaltering look on his face.

Cartman jaw hinges open, "Good God, you're insane," he rebukes as Kyle's nose scrunches at the smell of fresh ammonia. He pinches his nostrils shut with his unoccupied hand.

Well past the five-hour mark, the challenge is still in full-swing and the stench of urine has finally dissipated, the constant rain doing a surprisingly good job of washing it away.

"Wow. I'm impressed that you guys have all made it five hours into this competition," Token narrates, pacing under the awning, "You all must want this bad. After all, there could be $500,000 on the line," he says with a smirk.

Cartman gives a theatric yawn, smacking his lips together as he gazes at his two less-than-worthy competitors. Kyle is standing straight up like Cartman and doing head circles with his neck, hoping to loosen himself up and ease his cramps. Cartman snickers as he turns to Tweek, who is hunched over the podium while he grasps his key, the boy pale as a ghost as he trembles through a wave of nausea.

"Aww, what's the matter, Tweek?" Cartman condescendingly coos, "Can't hang with the big boys?"

Back in the jury house, Craig is leaning forward on the sofa, his heart breaking as he watches his boyfriend struggle to suppress the pain. Craig clenches his fists, whispering under his breath as he watches the competition intently with his fellow jury members. "Come on, babe…"

Stan throws head back, leaning smugly against the sofa, his arms crossed as he sits next to his rival. "Your 'babe' looks like he's struggling, Craig."

Craig snaps backwards and glares at him, "You would think that, Marsh, but you can't read his face. He wants this bad," Craig assesses, gesturing towards Tweek, his distressed facial expression blown-up onscreen, "He's not even competing against Kyle and Cartman anymore. In his eyes, he's competing against himself. This competition is a battle of the mind, and Tweek knows he's stronger."

Stan sighs, rolling his eyes with a huff, "Dude, there's no way you got all that just from looking at him for two seconds."

"This may be hard for your loveless void of a brain to understand, but when you've been with someone for as long as I have, sometimes you can just look at them and feel what they're feeling."

"Huh," Stan states, semi-amused as he leans back on the sofa, "I wonder if Kyle can feel the irritation I'm feeling right now," he sasses.

Tweek hacks into his free palm, rain droplets streaming down his face, offering more of an annoyance than a relief. Suddenly, Tweek starts dry heaving, his body a shivering mess as he lurches forward, the wind picking up like a tornado as he strains to hang on.

The stream cuts.

"NO!" Craig cries, his uncharacteristically emotional outburst causing all six of his fellow jury members to gawk at him.

Token's handsome face flashes onscreen. "Sorry, guys," he states through his perfectly white teeth, "One of the houseguests fell, so I'm cutting the stream off for the night. But don't worry, you can still monitor the times here until the challenge is done," he beams, quickly signing off before the jury can voice their many complaints.

A stopwatch appears onscreen and locks in third place's time of five hours, thirty-four minutes, and twenty-seven seconds. It moves to the bottom of the screen, taking the third-place spot and making room for the ongoing challenge clock that is still counting up over the pale-blue, star-strewn backdrop in big black bubble letters.

"Well, that sucks," Bebe comments, staring at the boring screen with a frown.

"Yeah," Wendy agrees, sitting next to her, "I really thought we were going to get to see the whole thing. I wanted to see Cartman's face when he fell off."

A few of the jury members sigh, spending about five seconds staring at the screen before losing interest, getting up from their seats, and heading off to bed.

Craig sighs as he stands in the center of the carpet, staring distraughtly at the ground and wringing out his hands as he worries for his love's wellbeing.

Butters takes a step closer to him and pats Craig sympathetically on the shoulder, "Sorry, fella," he states, before dispersing with the others and skipping merrily down the hallway.

"Please be okay, babe," Craig pleadingly whispers, hugging himself and therapeutically running his fingers over the seams of Tweek's favorite shirt, "Please."

Chapter Text

Five hours and thirty-four minutes into the final HOH competition of the season, the final three are still standing at their respective corners, drenched and miserable from the horrid weather conditions. Tweek is hunched over the box, the blonde experiencing the bulk of the nausea. He coughs once and throws his head forward slightly, unleashing the contents of his stomach and projectile vomiting on the structure. Kyle immediately leaps back, leaving his hand barren, the stream of vomit just clipping the edge of his jacket. "Dude, gross!" he shrieks.

"Kyle has fallen!" Token announces, standing up from his lounge chair and holding his arms straight up like a referee, "He is no longer in control of his own destiny," he states as the redhead lies defeatedly on the grass. Kyle groans, hiding his face in his hands, "His only remaining tiny beacon of hope is that the winner of this competition might want to take him to the end with them."

"Thanks for rubbing it in," Kyle mutters, visibly facepalming at his choke.

Tweek coughs twice and smacks his lips together, hoping to get the taste of stomach acid out of his mouth. He grimaces down at the tan, splotchy stain on Craig's jacket before turning to Kyle, his face falling at his housemate's gloomy state, "Sorry, Kyle," he mumbles.

An hour and a half later, Kyle yawns as the wall clock reaches three in the morning, the redhead long since gotten off the grass and joined Token at the side of the house. The pair perks up as a boisterous noise rumbles through the heavens once more.

"Oh boy. Here we go again!" Token chimes, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

The two remaining houseguests brace themselves as the clouds unleash yet another torrential downpour, this one much heavier than the last. Tweek cringes while he looks up dishearteningly at the looming clouds in the sky, his bangs now sticking to his forehead. Tweek shifts his gaze back down at the box, his whole body twitching as he hugs himself with his left hand. He sighs, focusing on his breathing while he counts up under his breath. Cartman looks down at Tweek, smirking at his discomfort, a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Had enough, spaz?" Cartman churlishly grunts, leaning slightly over the box to sneer at him.

Tweek says nothing and takes two deep breaths, trying to embrace his inner strength. He turns to the side, eyeing the initials that Craig carved into the tree almost a month ago. Tweek turns straight ahead, looking like he's staring into Cartman's soul as he grips the key even harder.

Nine hours in, Tweek is back in his hunched-over position, lying his head down on the key box, still gripping tightly on to the key. Tweek sighs as he massages his bicep, which is burning painfully from all the hours of strenuous activity.

Cartman huffs and stares down at him, the fatass's patience growing thin, "Come on, spaz. You've proved your point. This isn't cute anymore," Cartman acrimoniously tells him, "You already got second place. Isn't that enough? I've won the most competitions of anyone this season-"

"Actually, you tied with me," Kyle chimes, holding his finger up in point.

Cartman shoots Kyle a glare from the corner of his eye before narrowing in on Tweek, like prey, "Like I said, I've won the most competitions of anyone this season," he hisses through gritted teeth, "Do you honestly think you can beat the challenge beast?" Tweek blinks twice and stares blankly at him, the blonde's lack of response driving Cartman up the wall, "Well? Say something! Are you fuckin' deaf?!"

Tweek turns to the side and stares off into the distance.

"Goddammit!" Cartman fumes.

Ten hours into the toughest competition of their lives, Token perks up from his lounge chair and gestures to the horizon, nudging Kyle awake with his elbow, the rain having let up a whopping fifteen minutes ago, "Look! It's sunrise, everybody!" he beams as the dawn of a new day shines above them. Kyle yawns from his adjacent lawn chair and squints at the scene.

Tweek gives an eep of distress while his Wonder Tweek headband slips off his forehead, the rain damage so heavy that it's finally taken by gravity. Tweek sighs as he watches his creation flop defeatedly into the dirt, his heart sinking a little at the sight.

Cartman smirks as he continues to hold on to his key, looking like he hasn't broken a sweat this entire competition and proving that being evil really gives one infinite HP. "Yep. It won't be long now," Cartman coos, his stature regale and triumphant as he stares down at the low-life he calls Tweek Tweak. The blonde shivers in front of him, hugging his body tightly with his free hand, the fatass basking in his fatigue, "Any second now, you'll drop, and I'll win my fourth and final HOH. It's a shame things had to end this way, but look at the bright side – at least you'll get to wash the vomit off your shirt before you see your darling, little Craig," he mocks, the villain feeling ten-feet tall as he continues to mentally stab at Tweek's wounds, "You know, you're lucky I let you get this far, spaz. Don't tell me you honestly believe that you still have a shot," he spits, "We've been here for eight weeks, and you've done squat. You're a joke," he insults, staring sinisterly down at Tweek, who is now draped, wet and tired, over the box, dark red bags under his eyes as he rests his head on the structure, "You don't even deserve to be in the final three. You know nothing about this game," he scoffs, "You don't even know how to play."

There's a long pause. The wind picks up around them, filling in the awkward lull in the conversation. Kyle watches wondrously from the sidelines as Tweek slowly pulls himself up, Cartman's words igniting a fire inside of him that had been dwindling until this very moment. He turns to the right, staring into the eyes of his oppressor as something inside of him finally snaps.

"Week 1," Tweek musters, his voice cracked and fleeting.

Cartman cocks his forehead, smirking slyly, "What? Are you calling yourself a name?" he ridicules.

Tweek pants slightly and collects his courage as the rain starts pelting down on him once more, soaking every inch of his body. He looks back up at Cartman and continues, his gaze piercing into his enemy, "Week 1, I gathered three votes to save Craig, one of which was yours, by tricking you into thinking that Kenny was out to get you. Week 2, I influenced Craig to throw Butters under the bus because he was throwing my name around as a potential target, so that you would vote to evict him and I could secure my place as Wendy and Bebe's number one without getting any blood on my hands or severing any of my bonds," he lists, the wind growing rapidly through this confession, mirroring the blonde's intensity as Kyle listens intently from the sidelines to his every word, "Weeks 2 and 4, I made two ties happen just so you and Kyle would be forced to show your cards and expose your gameplay at Butters' and Clyde's evictions. Weeks 6 and 7, I tricked Kyle into keeping me…twice, through simple yet effective psychological tactics. I formed a secret alliance with the girls. I used my own boyfriend as a meat shield to keep me here," Tweek reveals, his volume amplifying with each strategic piece, "I didn't win those HOH competitions because I didn't want to win those HOH competitions, because I knew if I didn't keep up this weak, defenseless persona, that you would target me. Week 1, I purposely twitched out, Week 2, I withdrew from the talent show, Week 3, I told a gruesomely horrible joke, Week 4, I jumped off the ledge prematurely, Week 5, I eliminated myself after a very-real panic attack – I could've stayed through it, but Craig convinced me to opt out to take care of myself," Tweek adds, "Week 6, I purposely slipped, and last week, Week 7, I threw the puzzle. It was all strategy. Each week, I kept telling myself: 'They're going to catch on eventually because no one can be this bad at the competitions,' but you guys never did," he speaks, his tone strong and husky, reflecting the determination he feels in his core, "I didn't need to win to save myself; I got here on my own. I got here because of my strong social and strategic gameplay. I got here because of the bonds I built with others. I got here because of me, and that's more than either one of you can say!" Tweek shouts, gesturing back and forth between Cartman and Kyle, "So don't you dare try to tell me that I don't know how to play this game," he growls, completing his figurative mic drop.

The backyard is void of human noises once Tweek drops this bombshell, the trio staring at the blonde with mouths agape. Even Cartman himself is choked out of words to say.

Finally, after what seems like hours but in actuality is only three minutes, Cartman squeaks out a response through his flabbergasted expression, "What?"

Kyle stands up, equally stunned as he gawks nearby, his jaw practically on the floor, "Holy shit, dude."

"Yeah…" Token adds next to him with a nod, before halting slightly, "Wait, why am I surprised? I already knew most of this!"

Tweek looks to Cartman, his stern gaze not leaving the fatass since he started his confession, "I did it, Cartman. I did it all," he whispers, trying to hold back a smirk as his volume slowly rises, his confidence unwavering as he speaks into the wind, "You said I was weak; you said I was useless, but I've been playing since day one, and you never even knew it. I outplayed Bebe, I outwit Kyle, and now I'm going to outlast you, because I'm the stronger player. I've always been the stronger player, and everyone on that jury now knows it!" Tweek exclaims, using his free hand to gesture to the camera, "And that's how this story is going to end…with me beating you – the biggest bully in Big Brother history – in the midst of a thunderstorm after out-deceiving you the whole game!" he cries, finding this confession extremely cathartic, a boost of energy channeling through him upon its conclusion. Tweek shakes his head softly, "You should've taken me out when you had the chance," he scolds him through a smile, "because now, I'm never letting go."

Twenty minutes later, the wind continues to ripple through the backyard as the final two competitors grasp on to their keys like life rafts in the middle of the ocean. Tweek peeks up slightly, watching as the wind dances through Craig's pants on the powerline, sliding them off the structure. The pants fall off the roof, making a monstrous noise as they crash to the floor. Cartman jumps, the fatass startled by the collision, his hand seemingly coming off his gold key in slow motion.

"What the fuck was that?!" Cartman cries.

Tweek slowly lifts his head up from the platform as he eyes Cartman's hand, which is now hovering a few inches above where it should be residing. "Oh my God," Tweek squeaks, astonished as the realization finally sinks in, "…you let go."

Cartman snaps his neck around, his mind spinning when he faces him, "What?"

"You let go of the key," Tweek repeats, absolutely dumbfounded by what just occurred, "that means I win. I won the challenge. I'm the new HOH!" Tweek shrieks, getting more ecstatic as he says this, no one more shocked by this victory than him, "I did it. I actually did it. I'm in the finals. – WHOO!" he cheers, turning to the side to get a confirmative nod from the host. Upon completion, Tweek sets his key down on the box and bounces in celebration while Kyle stands up to join his former ally, "Yes! Take that, Dad! Carried by Craig, my ass!" he shouts with vigor, throwing his arm down at the dirt.

Cartman and Kyle stand there speechless as Tweek walks over and takes the key from a baffled Cartman. They watch as Tweek bolts across the lawn and grabs Craig's pants, hugging them in joyful triumph.

"Um, what the hell just happened?" a mystified Cartman wonders, asking the question that everyone there is thinking.

Kyle exhales, anxiously tapping his biceps with his fingers as he stands beside Cartman, arms folded, "Well, we just got outplayed by the guy who covered himself in coffee Week 2 and is now hugging his boyfriend's barbecued skinny jeans."

"I love you, Craig's pants!" Tweek chimes, smothering his face into the back pockets like a pillow. He kisses them, wincing as he pulls away slightly, a look of disgust spread across his face. "Oh God, that tastes like ass!" he grimaces, setting them on his knees. Tweek coughs twice and vomits into the grass.

"And with that, Tweek has won the final Head of Household competition and is guaranteed a spot in the finals!" Token declares, holding his arms up to call the victory.

"Yes! YES! YES!" Tweek cries, jumping up from the ground and racing over to the duo. He points his finger in the fatass's face, "And I don't even care if you grind my parents up and put them into my chili cause I hate them both!" he declares while Token tries his best to bite back a grin from the sidelines.

Tweek bursts into tears and flops down on to his back. He throws his hands over his face as he sobs into his palms, releasing eight-weeks worth of stress in the process. Everything he had been through this season was all worth it just to get to this moment.

Tweek sits up a few minutes later, gently wiping the tears away from his eyes. Kyle crouches down and pulls Tweek into a hug. "Congrats, dude."

He sniffs, "Thank you, Kyle."

Even though Tweek is covered in piss and vomit, he can't help but smile as he makes his way back into the house.

A few minutes before a certain twitchy blonde's victory, Craig is flopped down on the sofa, tirelessly watching the stopwatch on the television screen.

Stan steps into the room, holding a cup of coffee. He squints slightly, the only light source coming from the TV. "Dude, are you still awake?" Stan questions, eyeing Craig, who is now running his fingers through his disheveled mop of hair while he scarcely looks up at his rival, the stoic still dressed in his boyfriend's lucky shirt, "You've been here all night. It's almost six-thirty!"

"I gotta do it," Craig drones, barely functioning, "I gotta see if he's okay."

"How?" Stan squeaks, taking a step back towards the television, "This screen only tells us the time and-" Stan turns to the right, eyeing the moving stopwatch, "Holy Christ, is this thing still going on?!"

Suddenly, the TV freezes for a brief period, before the winning time is locked in, overtaking the middle of the screen in big, golden bubble letters. Stan and Craig turn to each other and gawk as the final time shines in the center: ten hours, twenty-eight minutes, and fifteen seconds.

Stan sweatdrops, the air a tad eerie around them, "That's gotta just be a coincidence."

"Is it?" Craig replies, daring to be hopeful for the first time that day.

Stan backs up, preparing to flee into the kitchen at the all-too significant set of numbers. "Damn. If Tweek really held on for ten hours, maybe he should be the winner," he mumbles.

…

Tweek Tweak
Victorious Coffee Bean/Congratulations, Tweek!

Well, it may have taken ten hours and I may have a massive headache and a stuffy nose because of it, but I did it. I won the last HOH! (proudly holds up the HOH-room key) – And you should've seen the looks on their faces when I outlasted them both. (beams)

…

Later that morning, Kyle and Cartman are sitting on their beds in the boys room, the room so silent, one could hear a pin drop. The duo's eyes are glued to the carpet, their morale the lowest it's been all season after coming up just short of their goal. "I don't understand," Cartman speaks into the dry environment, "This isn't how the narrative was supposed to go. The underdog always wins the season, Kahl!" he exclaims, still in disbelief they were subdued.

Kyle sighs, clearly unamused by Cartman's stubborn delusion as he rubs his aching forehead, "Cartman, do you ever think maybe you're not the underdog here?"

Cartman lifts his head up and blinks twice at the Jew before rolling his eyes, "Psh! Just because Tweek's a bottom doesn't mean he's the underdog, Kiel. Now you're just being homophobic. I was obviously the underdog coming in; I'm the best-looking one in the house!"

Kyle groans and wipes his hand exasperatedly over his forehead, "I'm not even going to try to dissect that nonsense," he mumbles.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Rational Know-it-all

Tweek won the final HOH early this morning, so essentially, I'm a dead man walking. No one has ever survived three times on the block. In fact, no one has ever even survived two times on the block except Tweek and…me. (pupils widening in realization) – Huh. Maybe this isn't so hopeless after all.

Last week, Tweek told me that he would take me to the end with him over Cartman, but I'm not holding my breath here. Things can change overnight. And if I'm Tweek, I would rather take my chances with the fatass than risk losing the $500,000. But there's still a whole afternoon left before the eviction. I still have one last chance to make a case for him to keep me. This needs to be my best pitch yet. There's a lot riding on this, cause this could cost me the game.

…

Eric Cartman
Crybaby Loser Pants

Well, somehow Dorky McDorkwad won the final HOH competition today, even though I'm fairly certain that he cheated cause, you know, how the hell else would I lose? But he's voting to evict Kahl tonight, which is no skin off my nose. I don't care what shit Tweek said at the challenge, cause obviously I'm still going to sweep the floor with him when we face off tomorrow, so this couldn't have worked out any better for me. Long live The King! (smirks)

…

Later that afternoon, Tweek is sitting on his new grand mattress in the HOH room, aweing at Craig's jacket that he is cradling in his palms, the item now spotless courtesy of the Big Brother laundry cleaning service. "Wow!" Tweek beams, smiling at the jacket's impeccable appearance, "I should have them do all my clothes," he says, before carefully folding the jacket up and resting it on his lap.

Tweek perks up slightly when he hears a gentle tap on the door. "Come in!" he cries.

The knob twists open, and Kyle peeks his head into the room. Tweek waves him forward, and Kyle follows suit, closing the door like it's made of porcelain. "Hey, um, can I make my pitch to you?"

"What? Oh, sure," Tweek squeaks, quickly scooping up a few of his items so Kyle can sit down next to him, "So," he grins, playfully scanning him over, "what do you got?"

Kyle pauses, taking a moment to collect himself before releasing a heavy sigh. "Okay, so, I think you should take me because-um…" he struggles, fidgeting as he glances around the room. His eyes land on Tweek, who is giving him a sincere smile, waiting patiently for him to continue. Kyle gulps, the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach back and blazing at full force, "Oh, what am I doing?" he cries, throwing his arms up, his emotions bubbling over and spewing out on the floor, "Tweek, the truth is you shouldn't take me, okay? You have a better chance against Cartman. Hell, even that cricket on the windowsill could probably beat Cartman, and he didn't even play the game! And I know I'm supposed to come in here and try to schmooze you into making the wrong decision to save my ass, but…that isn't me. I don't think I've ever lied to you this game, and I'm not going to start now," he confesses, feeling as fragile as a glass house. He slouches his shoulders, "so…that's it. The decision is yours. I've said all I have to say."

Tweek nods. His eyes are soft, but the rest of his face is unreadable. "Alright. I appreciate that, and I hope you understand that I have to do what's best for me, Kyle," Tweek replies, his voice almost at a whisper.

Kyle clasps his hands together and takes a deep breath, giving a small nod in acknowledgement as he stands up, already mourning the loss of his reality-show life. Tweek watches as Kyle heads towards the door and exits, the blonde biting his lip while he takes in their conversation. "Huh," Tweek speaks into the open air, delicately holding on to the face of his Craig pendant as he stares humbly at the wall, "I wasn't expecting that."

…

Kyle Broflovski
Mentally Checked Out Jew Boy

Well, I tried my best, but I could see all the signs. It was all crystal clear. There's just no way Tweek's going to keep me. If he keeps me, he's giving away $450,000, and I know my wellbeing is not worth giving that up.

I came so close, this close (holds thumb and pointer finger an inch apart up to the camera) to making it, and I'm going to lose it all on the last day. I almost can't believe it. But maybe I deserve it. Maybe Wendy was right; maybe I really don't have a soul. I just wanted to make it to the end so bad. I wanted it more than almost anything in the world. I just wanted to prove that I wasn't broken, you know? That I was still me. But now, I don't even know who I am anymore, and no amount of money is going to change that. (tears up) – I'm sorry I'm rambling; I'm just so scattered. Not one day goes by where I don't miss Dee, and honestly, I feel like freakin' Craig right now without Tweek, so take that analogy however you will. (rubs bridge of his nose)

So, in conclusion, good game, everybody. This is the last you'll hear from me. (heavily exhales as he stares dejectedly at the carpet) – This one's going to sting for a while, but…I'll get over it. (nods, looking lost and unconvinced)

…

A half hour before evictions, Cartman and Kyle are sitting side by side on the living room floor, the atmosphere surprisingly sentimental for a room that houses Eric Cartman. "So, I gotta know, what's your biggest regret, Kahl?"

Kyle cocks his forehead, puzzled by the sudden topic change, a mysterious glimmer in the fatass's eyes, "You mean, in here, or just in general?" he wonders.

"Here, out there, wherever," Cartman elaborates, gesturing vaguely in front of him.

Kyle taps his chin ponderously, seriously thinking his rival's question over for once in a blue moon, "Well," Kyle begins, pausing slightly when he notices the uncharacteristically invested expression on Cartman's face, "I always wanted to, uh…" Kyle clears his throat, beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck as Cartman's gaze threatens to entrap him, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Cartman blinks, lifting his head back.

"Like, I don't know, you want to eat me," Kyle squeaks, nervously biting his lip as he scooches up against the wall, "Did you drink another person's ashes?"

"No," Cartman sighs, quickly shooting this idea down before he loses his courage, "Kiel, do you know why I hated the idea of you and Stan being together?" he asks, this question coming from left field and slapping the redhead smack dab in the face.

Kyle shakes his head lightly, hoping to regain some form of composure before he runs out of the room screaming again, "Because you hate any sliver of human happiness?" he guesses.

"No," Cartman answers, gingerly scooching forward, "It's because it's a classic case of relationship imbalance."

"Oh," Kyle coos with a nod, the confession soaring in one ear and out the other, not giving it much time to manifest in his brain, "I get it now. You thought I wasn't good enough to date Stan, is that right?"

Cartman stares down at the carpet, flashing a look that Kyle has never seen grace Cartman's face: one of sincerity. "No," he answers, his voice so light and airy, it belongs on an episode of White People Renovating Houses, "It was actually the opposite, Kial."

Kyle's eyes widen at the confession, his stomach twisting into a tight knot. "Cartman, are you coming on to me?" he asks, quickly jumping up from the ground when Cartman meagerly peers up at him, "Oh good God!" he cries, rubbing circles over his aching forehead as he frantically paces the floor, "This is a joke, right?" he questions, stopping in front of the fatass, "You don't really like me. This is all just a sick joke to turn me into Big Brother's Top Casanova!" he rants, looking like he's trying to convince himself of this more than Cartman.

Cartman sighs, his face falling once he realizes his confession is going nowhere. "Yeah, sure, Kyle."

Kyle turns towards the kitchen, clasps his hands together, and exhales, feeling his panic dial down five notches. He pauses for a moment, an awkward vestige still lingering in the air, "Wait. Hold up. Did you just say my name correctly?"

Cartman says nothing as Kyle turns towards him, his eyes lingering expectantly over his face. The fatass shakes his head, feeling as rejected as Clyde after his seventh trip to Raisins. "No. I didn't say a word, you filthy Jew," he half-heartedly retorts, knowing full well that they both know he is lying, but reluctantly reverting back to the same old Cartman before their friendship is damaged forever.

…

Tweek Tweak
All-Powerful Coffee Bean

Well, today has been quite interesting to say the least. It's odd for me to be in this position of power, but it's fascinating to see how people's behaviors change because of it. Cartman has actually been avoiding me most of today, which isn't too surprising. But what surprised me the most was my conversation with Kyle. It's the final three, and I felt like I was talking to the same Kyle I comforted back in Week 2. He wasn't arrogant; he wasn't demanding; he was just himself. And thank God, cause I was beginning to think that that man was long gone. But now it's five minutes before the last eviction of the season, and I have a big decision on my hands.

I know I can win more easily against Cartman, but he was responsible for Craig's eviction – and I'm not sure I can let that go. Kyle was responsible for the evictions of three of my friends in the house and made them go up against each other though, so they're fairly equal on that front.

If I take Cartman, I would probably sweep the floor with him and get all eight jury votes, and if I take Kyle, honestly, I'm not sure I can win. Sure, Kyle has made some enemies, especially after what he did to Wendy, but Cartman has more. Logically, it would make more sense to evict Kyle and guarantee myself the win, but would I rather take a worthy competitor who I think is a good person and risk losing the money, or take the person who essentially bullied everyone in the house and gift him $50,000 for it when he places second? Should I be petty or strategic?

…

That evening, the final three are gathered in the living room. The first-time nominee, Cartman, is sitting on one of the lush lounge chairs while the three-time block veteran, Kyle, sits beside him, solemnly waiting for the most nerve-wrecking event of the season to unfold as he clutches Dee's necklace in his palm. Tweek is sitting alone on the left sofa, twiddling his thumbs, his Wonder Tweek sweatshirt making its second onscreen appearance.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to this unconventional final eviction ceremony!" Token announces, the host as chipper as ever, "This eviction is unlike any we've had before. It all comes down to one choice, made by this week's HOH," he explains, pausing slightly to address this week's chosen one, "Tweek, tonight you will evict the eighth and final houseguest from this house, thus making them the last member of the jury. Whoever you do not evict will sit next to you tomorrow and go head-to-head against you for the $500,000," he states, trying to make this as clear as possible, "I know it's tough. Both of these men have been with you on this journey since you guys came here, but you can only pick one. Before you stand up and tell us your decision, I will give both Kyle and Cartman one last chance to try to convince you to take them to the finals. Cartman," Token smiles, rubbing his hands together at this potential shitshow, "Why don't you go first?"

"Alright," Cartman coos, boosting himself up a bit in his seat, the fatass exuding a lot of confidence for someone whose fate has yet to be determined, "Tweek, we've been together since the very beginning, and we've always had a mutual respect for each other," Token coughs over the loudspeaker, merely choking on his drink in laughter while Tweek dubiously cocks his eyebrow from the sofa. Cartman glares at the loudspeaker as he clears his throat, "Anyways, I think you should take me because this is what your boyfriend wants, and everyone knows you're Craig's little bitch," he grins, sanctimoniously delivering this criticism like it's a compliment.

"Ookay…" Token awkwardly elongates, unsure if he should even acknowledge this monstrosity of a speech, "Kyle, do you want to say anything, or are you happy just watching Cartman dig his own grave here like I am?"

Kyle turns to Tweek, shooting a small smile in the blonde's direction. "Hi, Tweek. We talked earlier, so you know where I stand, but before I go, I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciate you being here for me emotionally, especially since we were adversaries for most of the game, so…congratulations. I hope you enjoy your $500,000. You deserve it," Kyle concludes, bowing down slightly with grace.

"Well done, one of you," Token comments, not bothering to filter his opinions eight episodes into the season. Cartman straightens up in his seat, boastfully taking this in, "So Tweek, now that you've heard from both of the nominees, it is time for you to announce your decision to the world…no pressure," he adds with a smirk.

Tweek nods, looking surprisingly calm for someone who's, well…Tweek. He stands up and clasps his hands together, turning to Kyle and Cartman as he prepares to unload eight weeks of thoughtful critiques from his shoulders. "Kyle," Tweek says, turning to address the resident redhead first, "you and I have a civil relationship both in the game and in real life. We weren't always on the same side of the vote, but I had respect for you. Whether or not that's still true…well, you'll find out later tonight," he sighs, wringing his hands, "But regardless, I can honestly say that I was rooting for you Week 1, and it was disheartening watching Cartman's manipulative nature slowly consume you. You've played this entire game under Cartman's thumb, and what you did last week to my friend only proved that. How can I, in good conscience, take someone like that to the finals?" he asks rhetorically, leaving Kyle to wistfully mull this over. Kyle stares down at the ground, looking like he is about to burst into tears at any moment, nervously bouncing his leg while Tweek turns to his main oppressor, a pompous look in the beast's eyes.

Tweek Tweak
All-Powerful Coffee Bean/Total Badass

I looked into both Kyle's and Cartman's eyes, and at that moment, I knew exactly what Craig and probably almost everyone else in the world wanted…including me. (smiles)

"Cartman," Tweek begins, narrowing in on the resident fatass, "your game was very cutthroat and strategic. You eliminated every person who you perceived as a threat. I watched week after week as you played a large part in taking out my friends. Week 5, you put both myself and Craig on the block then gloated at his eviction. The following few weeks were the darkest days of my life, and you only made them darker. I know why you did it," Tweek firmly states, serving this cold, hard truth directly to the source, "you thought getting rid of Craig would break me and cause me to self-evict, when all it did was give me more reason to stay. You thought Craig was strong enough to usurp you, when I was the one calling the shots. If you had won last night, without me revealing my cards, I have a hard time believing that you wouldn't have cut Kyle…because every single person you thought was great had an expiration date," Tweek states, taking a much-needed breather to level himself and collect his thoughts, "But I'm not you," he says, staring confidently into his eyes, his voice stern and unwavering, "I'm not afraid of anyone here…so I'm taking Kyle," Tweek reveals robustly. He gestures to Kyle, the redhead's jaw dropping so wide it almost hits the floor, "And I'm going to prove to everyone that this game," Tweek draws an invisible circle in the air with his finger, "was mine. You underestimated me, Cartman, just like you did this entire game, and for that, you're going to be one day short," Tweek grins, floating in this sweet, sweet vengeance. His clears his throat and announces loud and clear towards the heavens, "I vote to evict Eric Cartman."

"WHAT?!"

Tweek steps back as all of the reactions come pouring in at once, like a dam that just toppled over. Token laughs from the loudspeaker. His boisterous chuckle is so loud that he has to muffle his microphone with his palm, so it doesn't overpower the rest of the audio. Kyle is keeling over in his seat, still shaking from his news of making the finals. His hands are cupped securely over his mouth while he starts weeping into the carpet. "Oh my God, oh my God…" Kyle trembles, his knees shaking like a power drill, the redhead still in utter disbelief that this just happened.

Cartman storms over to Tweek, pointing his chubby finger in his face while Tweek stands there, doing his best impersonation of Craig's unimpressed stance – crossed arms and all, "WHAT THE FUCK, SPAZ?! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! YOU'RE A FUCKIN' CHEATER PANTS! EVERYONE KNOWS I WON THAT HOH, AND I'M NOT LEAVING UNTIL I GET MY FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS!" he shouts, now directing his fuming, convoluted hatred towards Token.

"Yeah…that's not happening," Token coos, quickly pressing the emergency button before things get out of hand, "You lost, fat boy. Get over it. Security, get him out of here," Token instructs, pointing his thumb firmly over his shoulder.

Kyle stands up from his seat and joins Tweek in the center of the carpet, watching as two hefty Big Brother security guards grab Cartman by the arms and drag him away kicking and screaming, a slew of expletives firing in all directions as the fatass remains caught up in his emotional tirade. Token plays the sassy foghorn noise as he exits. "Yeah…you definitely made the right decision," Kyle states proudly with a nod, standing side by side with his fellow finalist.

The front door slams, Cartman exiting exactly how Token dreamed he would. Tweek contently sighs, dusting off his hands with a smile at Cartman's departure. "Well, that takes care of that," Tweek playfully states, turning to Kyle with a smirk, "you fuckin' dish!" he sasses at Cartman's retreating form. The final two immediately erupt into chuckles.

Kyle springs Tweek into a hug, so gratefully exhilarated that he feels like his heart is going to burst. Tweek smiles as he returns the gesture, "Congratulations, Broflovski. I know how bad you wanted this. Now let's give everyone a kickass finale!"

"Thank you, Tweek," Kyle sniffs, the tears still trailing down his cheeks as he cups his right hand over his nose, "I won't forget this," he promises.

Tweek nods, smiling sweetly as he looks to him, his eyes glistening, "I know."

Suddenly, the host breaks into cheers, his unbridled joy infectious. "Cartman's gone! This calls for a fuckin' pizza party!"

"Man, the network is going to have a fuckin' field day censoring this episode," Kyle wisecracks as Token immediately plays Kool & the Gang's signature song, "Celebration" over the loudspeakers. Token dims the house and flips the secret switch. Tweek and Kyle gaze up in awe at the strobe lights that have just turned on above them, the pair still hanging on to each other, both appearing genuinely happy.

Forty-five minutes later, Tweek and Kyle are sitting in the fully lit living room, eating pizza around the coffee table with Token, Jimmy, and Jimmy's assistant writer, Timmy, who is enjoying his pizza on a stack of three empty boxes.

"Wow, Token, I never knew you hated Cartman so much," Kyle says through bites of pizza. He sets his slice down on his plate and wipes his hand off with a napkin as he stares across the table at the host, "Well, I mean, I always knew you hated him, but I didn't think it was 'throw a giant party the second he's humiliated on national TV'-level hate."

"Yeah…" Token chimes, putting down his sterling silver knife and fork that he used to cut his pepperoni slice, "He's such an asshole," he declares, sharing the biggest, most ample smile he has all season. The host audaciously sighs, "Best. Week. Ever."

Chapter Text

Eight weeks prior, Kenny exits the Big Brother house, still fuming from a certain fatass's betrayal. Kenny pulls his middle finger down and grips the handle of his duffel bag, securely holding it over his shoulder. He smiles, feeling his anger just melt away as he strolls down the beautiful stone pathway, a glimmering, gated building in the distance, the structure illuminated by two industrial-sized spotlights. "Well, I didn't win the $500,000," he tells the camera, shooting his best Hollywood smile, "but at least I get to spend the next eight weeks of my life living it up in a kickass mansion!"

Kenny whistles as he sets down his bag in the center of the foyer, taking in the sights of Token's signature summer beach house. "Wow!" Kenny coos, his voice echoing through the two-story entryway. Kenny turns to the camera and excitedly wiggles his eyebrows. He races into the kitchen and stares out the back window, gazing out at the view of the pool, which is roughly the size of Kenny's childhood house, "Holy shit. I could get used to this!"

Kenny steps out onto the secluded section of paradise, before turning to the camera with a shrug. "Well, we all know where this is going," Kenny smirks. The orange-clad man bolts forward and jumps into the pristine water. He bobs his head above the surface and spits out a small stream, like a faucet, "Man, if this is how they're treating last place, I can only imagine what they're gonna do for the winner!"

…

One week later, Kenny is standing in the grand foyer, dressed in a spotless, white bathrobe and hovering near the front door. Kenny's hair is wet and pulled back, courtesy of his afternoon spent in the luxurious five-star-resort-worthy pool. "It's the night of the second eviction, and I'm super excited because for the first time this season someone is going to join me here, so this vacation is going to be ten times more awesome," Kenny beams, bouncing in anticipation in front of the camera, "Even though I want my friends to do well in this game, selfishly, I am hoping that someone good walks through the door tonight…meaning anyone but Cartman," Kenny clarifies with a smirk.

Kenny's breath hitches in his throat when he sees the golden doorknob twist open. Kenny's face lights up when a certain platinum blonde meagerly walks into the foyer. "Well, gee, look at this place!" Butters awes, carefully sliding his duffel bag off his shoulder and plopping it on a nearby chair, "It's fancier than Bennigan's!"

"Buttercup!" Kenny chimes, throwing his arms around Butters and wrapping him in a hug, "I'm so happy to see you. I mean, I'm sad you're not in the game anymore, but I'm so glad you're here."

"Gee, that's real sweet of you, Ken," Butters coos, giving him a gentle pat on the back, "Say, why don't you show me around?"

A half hour later, after giving Butters an exclusive tour of La Summer Home de Token, Kenny smiles as the pair sit poolside, "So, what happened?" Kenny wonders, dipping his legs into the glossy surface, "Why did they boot you?"

"Well, um, everything was going real great until we had a talent show, where I knocked over the chandelier with my tap shoe and almost killed half of Craig's gang," Butters answers, gingerly tapping his knuckles.

Kenny laughs, "Yeah, that'll do it," he replies, "So I'm guessing the vote was unanimous?"

"No. Actually, the girls and Tweek voted to keep me, so it came to a tie between me and Kyle, and then Cartman, who was the head dude this week, voted to evict me."

Kenny's face falls, unable to believe what he is hearing, "You're joking," he gasps; Butters shakes his head. "Cartman kept Kyle?" he awes, his brain reeling at the thought, "What the hell is his strategy?"

"I don't know. But he did say I could keep giving him back rubs!" Butters chimes, surprisingly delighted by this news. Kenny turns to Butters, shaking his head at the young lad's naivete.

He sighs, "Oh, Butters."

…

One week later, Stan exits the main house, nursing the biggest headache he has all season. "Well, that did not go how I thought it would, that's for sure," Stan tells the camera, the mansion in sight as he takes his walk of shame down the dimly lit pathway, "I thought I would at least get a few votes to stay, but I should've known that cheating is apparently unforgivable to these people," Stan sasses with a roll of his eyes before releasing a heavy sigh, "At least when I get to the jury house, I won't be the most-hated guy on the block anymore."

"Hey!" Stan greets as he swings open the front door. The raven smiles as he is greeted by Kenny and Butters, who are both standing side by side near the entryway.

"Oh my God, Stan! Wow, this is a shock," Kenny awes while he pulls his friend into a hug, "I didn't think I'd see you for a while, buddy. What? Did Cartman screw you?"

"No," Stan responds, letting go of Kenny to hug Butters hello, "Shockingly, he was the only one who didn't."

"I know what you mean, man. This game makes no sense," Kenny nods, leading Stan into the hallway so he can set down his bag, "It was 6-1 in my favor fifteen minutes before the first eviction, and then I got sent home 4-3. I thought I had the votes!"

"You did," Stan confirms, setting his bag down before joining Kenny and Butters on the sofa, "It was Tweek, dude; he screwed you. He convinced Cartman to switch to save Craig," Stan explains, propping his legs up on the coffee table.

"Damn, Tweek! Wow…I should've known," he smirks, his mind spiraling at the revelation as he pensively rubs his chin, "It's always the cute ones who screw you over."

Stan lets out an awkward chuckle that sounds like a mix between a walrus and a vacuum cleaner, "Yeah…"

Kenny nods, spewing a hefty exhale, "So, why'd you get booted? Was Craig HOH?"

"Psh! Yeah, right. Like Craig would ever try hard enough to be HOH," Stan rebukes, unable to help himself from jabbing his rival, "No, um, Wendy was HOH, and she put Kyle and me up."

"Your own girlfriend put you up? Man, that's brutal!" Kenny exclaims, sitting up slightly, Butters' shocked look mirroring Kenny's emotions.

"Heh, yeah…well, maybe she was kinda sorta justified," Stan mutters, anxiously rubbing the back of his sweaty neck as he turns away from the pair, wondering if he looks as awkward as he feels right now.

Kenny furrows his brow, Stan's flighty behavior causing alarm bells to chime in his mind, "Oh no. Don't tell me," he starts, groaning as his rubs the bridge of his nose in classic Stan-esque fashion, "You did something stupid, didn't you?"

"Well, uh, maybe…"

"Stan," Kenny pointedly hisses, "Did you hit on Bebe?" he wonders, hoping that his friend wouldn't be so dumb.

"No," Stan sighs, pausing slightly to brace himself for the potential backlash before unraveling the shitshow, "I may have cheated on Wendy with Kyle, and they may have both found out at the same time, which may have resulted in a fiery public spectacle of hatred and betrayal for millions of viewers to see," he reveals quickly with a half-hearted chuckle.

Kenny leans back, his eyes as wide as their fat friend's stomach. "Wow…okay. Well, that's one way to leave a legacy."

Stan sighs, his brain hurting from just recounting the incident, "I feel really awful. I really do. I never wanted things to get this fucked up."

"Just imagine how Kyle feels, dude," Kenny reminds him, hoping to pull Stan's head out of his ass before he makes an even bigger jackass of himself, "First the love of his life turns him down, then his best friend stomps on his heart on national television. Yeesh…that is going to take a lot of therapy to get over," Kenny coos, Butters staring at the carpet with a nod.

"Yeah, well, thanks for making me feel worse about myself," Stan snaps, standing up from the sofa before Kenny can get another word in. Kenny turns to Butters and shrugs.

…

Stan Marsh
Unremorseful Cheater Pants

Being here in the jury house gives you a lot of time to think about things that you don't really want to think about. (laughs nervously) I do feel really bad about what happened between me and Kyle, but living in the past isn't going to help either of us, so hopefully this whole thing just kinda blows over before he arrives.

I'm glad Big Brother gave me the opportunity to write Kyle a letter though because I have a lot that I've been meaning to say to him. And I hope I can help him out as much as I can here. Despite what happened, Kyle's still my best friend, and I want him to do well cause, honestly, he's the best person in that house, which makes him the most-deserving of the money in my eyes.

…

A few days of awkward conversations between Stan and the rest of the jury members later, Clyde screams for joy as he barrels into the jury house. "What up, playas? Your boy Clyde Donovan is in the house! I hope you guys are ready to party!" he cries, throwing his duffel bag down on the carpet and giving Kenny a hearty chest bump. Clyde steps back and gives Stan and Butters each a bro hug before racing into the kitchen in pure Clyde fashion in search of his latest snack.

…

Kenny McCormick
Lovable Oliver Twist

Ever since Clyde got here, he's breathed new life into this house. I absolutely love it! Because lately, hanging out with Stan has been like spending time with a wet doorknob: gross and unnecessary.

…

Clyde is leaning over the kitchen table, piling on scoop after scoop of delicious buffet-style food onto his plate. He smiles as he sits down on his thousand-dollar dining room chair, his plate of food so high that he can barely see Kenny seated across from him. Clyde grabs his napkin and tucks it carelessly into his shirt collar.

"So, what's the story, Donovan? What was your downfall – your Achilles' heel, so to speak?" Kenny playfully quips as Butters grabs a dinner roll from the center basket and cradles it in his palm like a newborn.

Clyde grins, talking between bites, "Well, it's not too interesting of a story, really. Kyle and Dee won HOH against me and Bebe, so he put the two of us on the block together, then voted to evict me over her when it came to a tie," he explains casually.

Stan's heart drops into his stomach, "Wait, what? Why was Dee there?"

"Oh…yeah…" Clyde coos, mentally slapping himself for his blunderful omission, "Token did this whole Viewers' Choice thing where whoever got the most votes from the audience had to spend the day handcuffed to their ex. Cartman lost the poll, so he had to spend the day handcuffed to Heidi, but Token made all the exes come anyway, so Dee came to the house and she won the challenge for Kyle, and I don't know, I think they slept together or something," Clyde rambles, before nonchalantly sipping his drink. He perks up and snaps his fingers, pointing to Kyle's two friends and fellow jury members whose jaws are now dropped to the floor, "So, what have you guys been up to?"

Butters bounces in his seat and joyously clasps his hands together, "Gee, Clyde. I'm glad you asked! I've been real busy collecting pebbles that look like Hello Kitty!" he beams, "I just need to find two more so I can fill up my sock!" Butters proclaims, eagerly holding up his brightly-colored, pink Hello Kitty patterned sock, which is already filled to the brim with oddly misshapen pebbles.

"Looks good, Butters!" Clyde compliments, before shoving another two dinner rolls into his mouth.

Kenny shakes his head, attempting to snap himself out of his shock. The corner of his lip perks up as he watches Clyde chomp away at his dinner. "So, you're the first member of your group to get canned. Honestly, I'm surprised Tweek and Craig are still in the house together. I thought someone would put them up Week 1. They are a power couple."

Stan leans forward, the mere mention of his rival causing him to snap out of his frantic thoughts. "Don't worry, Kenny. Something tells me that's about to change very soon…" he coos, devilishly rubbing his hands together like a poorly written James Bond villain.

…

Stan Marsh
Too Obsessed with Craig for His Own Good

Even though I am technically out of the main portion of this game, I can still influence certain things in the house, and last week I may or may not have written Kyle a letter that may or may not have hinted that he needs to split the couple. If Tweek and Craig get put on the block together, I am 100% confident that Craig would be the one evicted, even if Tweek was supposed to be the target. Don't get me wrong, Craig is a heartless dude, but not when it comes to his little coffee bean. (cringes)

A lot of people would say I'm crazy for putting this much effort into getting someone eliminated, but this is the dude who shouted that he wanted me out in front of everybody and flipped me off while I walked out the door. And come on, it's not like Craig has much of a chance anyway. He's obviously not the frontrunner. If Craig ever wins this game, I'll eat my hat because he is the least sociable person I have ever met, and you can't win Big Brother being an asshole.

…

Clyde Donovan
Party Animal/Mr. Likeable

It's early Friday morning, and I'm not gonna lie, there's not much to do in the jury house, so I had the genius idea of throwing a spur-of-the-moment house party…at five in the morning. Yeah, I'll be the first to admit that that may not have been my best idea, but that's what happens when I don't have Tweek or Craig here to talk me out of it, or Twaig, as I like to call them. I like the word Twaig; it just rolls off the tongue.

…

A few hours later, Clyde is standing on the pool's diving board, dressed in a makeshift cape that he made out of one of the red velvet tablecloths and draped over his shoulders. "I AM LEMMIWINKS!" Clyde announces into the wind, the sun beating down on him as he dives face-first into the swimming pool, beer in hand. Behind him, Kenny and Butters are sloppily making out, crammed together on a beachside lounge chair while Stan is awkwardly dancing behind them.

Clyde pops up above the water, laughing when he eyes the debris that is now floating in his drink. "Ooh…magic sparkles!" he chimes, before taking another heavy swig of the bottle.

…

That evening, Craig groans as he exits down the front steps of the Big Brother house, the noirette's chest already aching after being away from his boyfriend for a whopping fifteen seconds. He walks down the pathway, the dimly lit lights floating by his feet, illuminating his path to the jury house. Craig stops on the way to view the extravagant white marble fountain that takes up about fifty percent of the jury house front lawn. The fountain is a carving that Token had commissioned of himself dressed like an ancient Greek God and spitting water out of his mouth. Craig perks his eyebrow up and turns to the camera, clearly unmoved by this work of art, "Seriously, Token? And I thought Cartman was egotistical," he mutters, rolling his eyes as he walks up the front stairway.

Craig swings open the door and looks up, his eyes widening at the unruly sight. He reaches over and quickly flips the foyer light on, the action causing something that looks like a disheveled Butters dressed in a few dozen washcloths to hiss from behind the end table. "My precious! My precious!" Butters cries, cradling his pebble sock in his arms.

Craig cocks his forehead and turns to the hallway, where Kenny is passed out on the floor, looking like a dead body from CSI: Miami. "Hey, it's my future self!" Stan coos, jumping into Craig's view from seemingly out of nowhere. Stan grabs Craig by the shirt collar and pulls him forward, the scent of alcohol spewing from his breath, "Ooh…you're kinda hot!" he sings, breaking into a fit of hysterical laughter and leaning in towards him. Craig shakes his head, casually takes a step back, and lets Stan fall face-first to the floor.

"Okay, what the hell is going on here?" Craig asks, finally finding the nerve to speak after his initial shock wore off.

Craig snaps his head up as a poorly played trumpet sounds from the top of the staircase. Clyde steps out from the second-floor hallway and throws his hands up, still dressed in his velvet tablecloth ensemble but now sporting a small crown made of toothbrushes and used dental floss as well, "All hail King Gingivitis!" he chimes, before lying down on his stomach and sliding head-first down the banister at full speed.

"Clyde, no!" Craig cries, quickly racing over to catch his friend before he cracks his skull. Craig omphs as Clyde flies into his arms, the impact knocking the leader off his feet, nearly missing a nearby Stan.

Clyde perks his head up and smiles when he locks eyes with his now-groaning BFF, "Oh hey, Craig!"

Craig sighs, taking in the sights once again before turning back to the brunette, "You know, the sad thing is I'm not even surprised."

…

One long and peaceful house nap later, Craig sighs as he plops his duffel bag down on an empty bed and starts unpacking his things, his body still sore from Clyde's impact and the barrage of bone-crushing hugs he received after Craig gave the rest of the jury a brief Week 5 rundown. Clyde and the other jurors poke their heads into the room, staring at Craig like he's a zoo exhibit.

"Dude, did Token take your clothes?" Clyde wonders, unable to hold back his comments any longer as he cocks his eyebrow at his hatless best friend's appearance.

"No," Craig harshly grunts, "I gave my hat to Tweek and just didn't take most of my other stuff."

"Ah," Clyde chimes, throwing his head back at the information. He crosses his arms as he takes another step into the room, "So…how did Tweek take the eviction?"

Craig sighs, not even bothering to look up from his unpacking, "Of course he was really upset. What kind of question is that?" he asks, a hint of anger in his tone.

"Well, you know, I thought maybe he'd be so relieved to get away from you that he jumped for joy when you left," Clyde teases, shimming forward with a toothy grin. Craig punches him in the chest, "Oww!" Clyde whines, sniffling a little as he rubs his now-aching collarbone, "See? Now this is why!"

Craig rolls his eyes and exasperatedly runs his fingers through his rarely seen hair. "Don't you have another chullo?" Clyde asks, seemingly mesmerized by the follicles' appearance.

Craig narrows his eyes, "Do I look like the kind of person who prepares for things?"

"Good point," Clyde chimes as the other three jury members step into the room behind him.

…

Stan Marsh
Present-Day Craig

When Craig walked into the house last night, I had to pretend to act surprised, so no one would suspect that I was the one responsible for getting him evicted.

…

"Craig! Long time no see!" Kenny jokes, clasping Craig's hand and giving him a bro hug, which was only made awkward by Craig's unwillingness to participate. "What? Are you not happy to see me?" he grins, flashing his pearly white teeth, his expression vibrant and, in Craig's opinion, punch worthy.

"I'm happy to see you not hitting on my boyfriend," Craig remarks, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

"Oh, please! Like Tweek would ever cheat on you. He looks at you like you have rainbows shooting out of your ass," Kenny states, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Craig facepalms and sighs into his hand. "You know you're making it really hard for me not to rip your other leg off right now," he sighs, suppressing the urge to do just that.

Stan scoffs and takes a step forward, "Come on Craig, we all know you regret it."

"Hmm…do I regret ripping Kenny's leg off?" Craig questions, staring into space as he therapeutically taps his finger against his chin.

The rest of the house waits for a moment, before Stan turns to Craig in the midst of the pregnant pause, "Well, do you?" he wonders, a bit snarky as he scans his rival's face over, "Don't strain yourself, Tucker."

…

Stan Marsh
Cocky Raven/Very Punchable

Craig is super aggressive. I mean, they still haven't found the body of the last guy who hit on Tweek. (laughs once before clearing his throat and getting super cereal) I'm just kidding…they did. It was in the dumpster behind Chili's.

…

Five minutes later, after most of the other jurors got the hint and left to wreak havoc in other areas of the house, Craig is sitting on his bed, still sorting through his belongings, Clyde hovering over his shoulder like a confused housefly. Craig reaches into his bag, his hand halting slightly as he feels a familiar fabric brush against his fingertips. He cocks his forehead as he delicately pulls the item out, which is none other than Tweek's favorite olive-green button up. Clyde awes at the sight while the noirette is stunned to speechlessness by his boyfriend's cute gesture.

Craig brings the shirt up, practically stuffing his face into it. "It still smells like him," Craig sighs, visibly touched, his cheeks blossoming at the scent.

"Dude, are you blushing?" Clyde smirks.

Craig turns away slightly, holding the shirt protectively against his chest, "Shut up."

Clyde chuckles as he leans forward with mirth, peeking into Craig's nearly empty, embroidered duffel bag. "Man, you weren't kidding. You really did leave most of your clothes for the boyfriend," he coos, nudging Craig twice playfully in the arm, "Ooh…Craig loves Tweek!"

"Yes, I do," Craig moans, already feeling a headache looming near his temples, "Now please shut up."

Clyde beams, crossing his arms in a smirk, "Man, you've been telling me that a lot today."

…

Clyde Donovan
Best Friend/Total Joy to Be Around

It's been two days since Craig first came here, and honestly, I am so happy that I get to spend time with him every day, but my bro is super depressed. He spends most of the day in bed, and I know he's not sleeping because he keeps groaning at all of my jokes. He needs a pick-me-up, stat, so it looks like it's time for the whole house to put our heads together and get creative.

…

Early the next morning, Kenny, Butters, Stan, and Clyde are standing in a circle in the second-floor hallway, the group a mere five feet away from Craig's bedroom door. "Alright. We have a dire situation here, brochachos," Clyde states, rounding his buddies up into a football huddle, like a team who's thirty seconds away from executing a game-winning play, "Craig has still not come out of his room, which is, coincidentally, my room," he shamelessly adds, "so we're really going to have to work together here if we want to cheer him up. Now, does anyone have any ideas? Remember, this is a place of unbridled love and acceptance, so don't be afraid to shout them out."

The remaining trio exchange blank glances before Butters cautiously holds his hand up like he's in class, but he knows he's about to get the question wrong. Clyde gives a nod in acknowledgement, "Yes, Butters?"

"Why don't we just ask Craig what's wrong?" Butters innocently chimes.

"We know what's wrong, Butters," Stan replies, his arms crossed as he rolls his eyes, "Craig lost his other half and now he's being a big baby about it."

"He's not being a baby, Stan," Clyde butts in with a gentle tap on the shoulder, "He's just upset because Twaig has been separated."

Stan tilts his forehead, "Twaig?"

"Yeah, that's the name smoosh I came up with for them!" Clyde beams, straightening his back boastfully at its mention, "Pretty great, huh?"

"What about Creek?"

"Creek?" Clyde repeats, contorting his face like he just sucked on a sour candy, "Yeesh! That'll never catch on."

Suddenly, Kenny snaps his fingers and enthusiastically points at the group, the perfect solution popping into his brain like popcorn, "Fire!"

"No," Clyde immediately shuts it down, pausing slightly before letting Kenny's questionable suggestion stew for a bit, "Actually, we'll put that in the maybe pile." Stan nods as Clyde sighs, "Come on guys, think harder. This is Craig we're talking about here: Mr. Dependable, South Park's #1 Best Friend, the guy who everyone loves!"

"-I'm pretty sure that's not Craig you're describing…" Stan sassily interjects, turning towards a landscape painting on the wall.

"Look, the point is Craig adores us, so we need to do everything in our power to make him feel better," Clyde says, clasping his hands together with a smile as he gazes at the group, "So, who wants to go first?"

…

Five minutes later, Clyde creaks the bedroom door open and pokes his head into the room. He scans the area, which looks like a suitcase just exploded and threw all of Craig's belongings on the floor. Clyde tiptoes in, stopping when he sees Craig lying in bed, wrapped in a sea of blankets.

"Hey, Craig," Clyde coos, stopping beside the bed and lifting one of the blankets up to stare at his best friend's face, "How are you doing?" he wonders, speaking in his best kindergarten teacher voice. Craig grunts and sinks deeper into the blanket cocoon. Clyde grabs his leg before he can get all the way under, "Nuh-uh-uh. You're not doing this again, Craig. It's time to get up and enjoy the promise of a new day!" he beams, nudging his leg backwards in the hopes of getting Craig out of bed.

Craig groans, attempting to kick Clyde back with his foot, but two days' worth of experience has left Clyde prepared. "I'm doing this because I care!" he cries, straining as he yanks Craig's foot back, causing Craig to slide halfway down the mattress, breaking the cocoon in the process.

Craig turns to Clyde, shooting daggers at him as he whips a blanket over his body, the noirette wearing nothing but Tweek's shirt and a pair of blue boxer shorts. "There. You got me partially out of bed, are you happy?" he asks, his voice gruffly.

"No," Clyde replies, delivering this answer like it's the most obvious statement in the world, "I'm not going to be happy until I see you smile."

Craig sighs, running his fingers through his disheveled mop as he starts muttering to himself. Clyde watches intrigued as Craig sits up, reaches over to the end table, and grabs a pad of custom stationary, courtesy of Token, and a pencil. He tears off a sheet with a harsh swerve of his pencil. "There." Craig sarcastically chimes, holding the piece of paper in front of his mouth, a sloppily-drawn curve in the center, "I'm happy. Now leave me the fuck alone," Craig snaps, crumpling up the smile and chucking it halfheartedly across the room.

Most people would be threatened by Craig's behavior, but Clyde just chuckles, shaking his head at the absurdity. "You really don't know me at all, do you, Craig?" he laughs, physically flexing to prepare to haul his friend up again, "I don't give up that easy."

"I know," Craig grunts, plopping back down onto the mattress and slapping his hand over his face, "It's one of your many irritating qualities."

Clyde smirks and eagerly rubs his hands together, "Then let's do this!" he cries, unwavering determination in his eyes.

Fifteen failed attempts at getting Craig out of bed later, Clyde smiles as he sits cross-legged at the base of Craig's bed, the brunette dressed in Butters' best Hello Kitty shirt while he sips imaginary tea from a plastic teacup, the rest of the classic tea party setup lazily scattered on the confides of Craig's mattress. He turns to Craig, who is reluctantly joining him, the raven propped up against the wall like he's the dead body in Weekend at Bernie's. A royal purple boa is thrown hastily around his neck and a black-feathered hat is covering his bad case of bedhead, Craig's wardrobe courtesy of Clyde. "More tea, Mr. Tucker?" Clyde asks in his best British accent.

Craig turns and shoots daggers at his friend, upset but too depressed to even fight, a flowered saucer with matching teacup resting on his lap.

…

Kenny McCormick
Kenny/Supposed Arsonist

We have a betting pool riding on who can get Craig out of bed first today. Clyde spent all morning trying to do it, but he came up just short. Personally, I think I have a good chance of winning because Craig is irritated by my very existence. He told me that three times last night. But Craig is a crafty one; I'm not expecting this to be a walk by Stark's Pond.

…

Early that afternoon, Craig jumps up slightly when a badly played bugle rings out from the doorway. Craig rolls his eyes as Kenny steps into the room, sporting his signature grin, "Fear no more, Craig. Your prayers are about to be answered!" Kenny cries. He turns to the open doorway and waves someone in, "Presenting the one, the only…Tweek Tweak!" he grandiosely announces, giving an eccentric bow.

Craig watches as Butters enters into the room, dressed head to toe in his best Tweek ensemble, his hair even messed up in the classic electrocuted Tweek fashion. Butters walks over to Craig and stands in the center of the carpet, nervously wringing his hands together as he struggles to recall his lines. He shakily reaches into his pants pocket and glances at his notecard, "Oh. Uh, hi, Craig – gah!"

Craig sits in silence, staring first at Butters, who looks like a Netflix version of his boyfriend, then at Kenny, who is now shooting Butters two encouraging thumbs up from the door. Craig cringes at the sight, a mix of nausea and disgust washing over his body. "Okay. This is your weirdest idea yet, and that's saying something."

"So…we did good?" Kenny squeaks, shooting Butters his best optimistic grin.

"No, you did absolutely horrible. I mean, what the hell is this?" Craig criticizes, unable to keep his thoughts at bay as he flimsily gestures to the imitation Tweek, "Some kind of dollar-store cosplay? And what the fuck did you think was going to happen? That I somehow wouldn't notice that this is Butters in a wig?"

Kenny and Butters exchange glances, overwhelmed by the bombardment of decent questions. "Well…uh, not exactly, no," Kenny uneasily answers, anxiously scratching his arm, "It was more of a tribute to him."

"Uh-huh," Craig grunts, still confused by their faulty logic, "So, you want me to honor my boyfriend by cheating on my boyfriend?" he asks.

Kenny flops his arm down and smacks his lips together as Stan appears in the doorway, "Well, when you say it like that, it does sound kind of dumb," he agrees, apprehensively rubbing his chin.

Craig sighs as he flops on his back. He throws the blankets over his head, already done with the Casanova's antics, "Just get the fuck out of here, McCormick," he mutters.

…

Stan Marsh
Chaotic Good (For Once)

Well, the guys have spent all day trying to cheer Craig up. Normally, I wouldn't care about Craig acting like a two-year-old, but there is money on the line and this is getting super depressing, so I'm going to give it my best shot.

So, here's the plan: I'm going to stand in the hallway next to Craig's bedroom and purposely quote incorrect information, so he will have no choice but to come over and correct me. Cause if there's one thing Craig can't resist other than Tweek, it's making me look like an idiot.

This worked surprisingly well while we were still in the house, and I'm hoping that if I do it enough times, Craig will get up and stay up. And then hopefully, he'll quit being a sad sack and I'll win the pot.

…

Midafternoon, Stan is standing a few paces outside of Craig's open doorway, conversing with Kenny at an amplified volume that is not too loud but not inconspicuous enough to be tuned out. "It's a pretty decent show, but the romance is a little stale if you ask me," Stan comments, casually word vomiting his opinions, "Red Racer's main love interest is Blue Racer, which I guess makes sense, but then the writers tried to do too much with their arc by making Blue Racer secretly an alien from the planet Zorka, which they travel to in episode five and-"

Stan pauses for a moment, biting back a smile when he hears footsteps stomping towards him. "Oh my God, do you even hear the bullshit you're spewing, Marsh?" Craig outbursts, stopping in front of his rival, the stoic still dressed in his boxers and Tweek's lucky shirt, "First of all, Red Racer's love interest isn't Blue Racer, it's Green Racer. Blue Racer is his main rival. And he isn't from the planet Zorka, he's from the planet Zon!" Craig yells, proceeding to correct every single detail Stan got wrong about the show while Stan and Kenny both attempt to keep straight faces. Craig insults Stan once more to garnish off his tantrum-esque sundae before letting out a long-winded huff, "Got it?" Craig snarls, complete with a piercing glare.

Stan nods, having tuned out most of what Craig was saying until these last few words. "Got it," he smiles, watching as Craig storms down the hallway, passing his bedroom entirely. Stan turns to Kenny and smirks, the orange-clad man gazing at him incredulously, his leader's plan executed to perfection.

…

Stan Marsh
Craig Expert

Ka-ching! (beams as he holds up his winnings)

…

Craig Tucker
Tweek's Other Half/Lost Boy

I miss Tweek. I miss waking up next to him and feeling his warm body pressed up against mine and gazing into those adorably sweet eyes. I miss that cute little squeak he makes when I squeeze his butt-

Stan walks past the kitchen table and into the shot, a playful glint in his eyes as he holds his glass of water, "Yeesh, E.L. James! Is this an excerpt from your erotic novel?" he jokes.

Craig turns and glares at him, quickly snatching the salt shaker from the table. He devilishly chucks it at Stan as he walks away, Craig slouching in his seat a bit as he crosses his arms. Craig laughs, annoyed but happy to be out of his seemingly never-ending slump, "Bitch."

Chapter Text

Early the next morning, Kenny, Clyde, and Butters are sitting on the living room sofa, immersed in a VHS tape that Token gave them after Kenny suggested starting a fire to get Craig out of his bedroom, the host having lent the house a VHS player for the day just so they could watch it. "Fire is bad, fire is bad!" a cartoon fire hydrant sings on the screen as he dances in a very disco-esque fashion, finger wagging and all. Clyde cocks his forehead, struggling to follow the narrative.

"Wait. I'm not sure I understand what this is trying to teach us," Clyde speaks, ponderously rubbing his stubble, "If he's a fire hydrant, then wouldn't he want us to start fires or else he wouldn't have a purpose?"

"Ah, I get what you're saying, so this is like an existential kind of video, cause this guy is clearly struggling with who he is and if he even matters in the grand scheme of things," Kenny analyzes, gesturing animatedly at the screen before leaning back on the sofa with a sigh as Butters starts dancing next to him, "Man, this thing is deep."

"Fire is bad, fire is bad!" Butters sings, shimmying to the beat while the fire hydrant continues to dance onscreen.

Suddenly, Stan barrels into the room, his hair so disheveled, it looks like someone stuck it in a blender. "Alright, where is he?!" Stan cries, the raven clearly on a manhunt for blood.

"Actually, I think 'who is he?' is the better question here," Clyde comments, still mesmerized by the video.

Stan rolls his eyes, his arms crossed firmly over his chest, "I'm talking about Craig, Clyde. He fuckin' sabotaged me!"

"What did he do?" Kenny half-mumbles, not bothering to look up from the screen.

"He replaced my shampoo with peanut butter! What the hell is his problem?" he blares, clenching his teeth, "I never thought a stick-in-the-mud like him would do pranks."

"He doesn't usually, but believe me, you don't want to get him started," Clyde states, leaning forward in his seat and squinting so hard that his eyes are starting to hurt.

"Uh-huh," Stan grunts, tapping his fingers impatiently against his elbows, "And why is he targeting me?"

"I don't know, revenge probably…or maybe he likes you," Clyde shrugs, now staring at the swirly, hypnotizing patterns flashing on the TV.

Stan shifts his eyes to the screen and sighs, now realizing he is getting nowhere, "Never mind. I'll just handle this myself," he states, before swerving on his heel and making a beeline for the staircase.

Stan stops as he steps on a whoopee cushion, the raven groaning with a facepalm once he realizes he walked straight into another trap. "Goddammit, Craig!" he curses, walking right into another pink cushion, "Wow. That's real mature!" he cries, before heaving his leg backwards and kicking the whoopee cushion across the room, the impact causing a boisterous, smelly-sounding fart to ricochet off the walls.

"Geez, Stan. At least open up a window if you're going to cut one," Craig remarks next to him, theatrically waving his hand in front of his face with a smirk.

Stan turns and glares at his rival, "I hate you so much," he mutters.

That night, Stan tiptoes down the hallway, dressed in so much black, people would mistake him for his goth persona, Raven. Stan carefully nudges open one of the bedroom doors, smirking when he sees both Craig and Clyde fast asleep on their respective beds. Stan eagerly rubs his hands together and quietly steps into the room, careful to watch for any stirs from his fellow jury members.

Stan sighs as he gently sits himself down on Craig's bed, the stoic fast asleep on his back, looking surprisingly harmless. "Craig…" Stan leans forward over his rival, his voice at a scratchy, almost screechy, whisper as he tries his best to impersonate everyone's favorite caffeinated blonde, "Craig…it's me – ngh! – your little coffee bean."

Stan watches as Craig shifts a tad on the bed and lightly smacks his lips together, "Babe?" he groggily sleep talks.

Stan nods, biting back a smile as he leans in closer to him, "Yes. I am your babe. What else am I to you, tiger?" he wonders, fully embracing his dictionary of Tweek lingo.

Craig tenderly sighs, pausing a bit before he answers, "Fuckin' adorable."

"Oh, Craig. You're so manly!" Stan coos, shimmying his torso forward as he really gets into character, "I want to lick your balls right now!"

"Stan?"

Stan snaps his head around, quickly making eye contact with Clyde, who is now sitting up on his bed on the other side of the room, his face looking like he just ate a month-old taco. Stan gulps, his throat dry and his eyes wide like saucers.

"Oh shit!" Stan cries, bolting out the door before his life can flash before him.

Clyde turns to the camera and shrugs.

A few hours later, Craig throws open the door to the adjacent bedroom, the noirette shockingly alert at five in the morning. Craig walks over to Stan's bed and throws his palms down on his mattress, the movement causing his rival to stir.

Stan blinks twice and cocks his forehead, leaning back into his pillow when Craig's face comes into clear view. "Ha! You wish you could lick my balls, Marsh. In your dreams!" Craig sarcastically spews, racing out of the room before Stan can counter him. Stan looks to Kenny, who is busy reading Butters' best-selling novel The Poop that Took a Pee on his bed, and gives him a shrug.

"Don't ask me what that was all about," Kenny mutters, casually flipping to the next page.

Two hours later, Stan springs up out of bed as the fire alarm blares above him, the sound echoing throughout the residence. Stan bolts down the staircase and halts beside the kitchen, where a small fire is blazing in the skillet on the stove. Kenny and Clyde are standing in front of it, trying to smother the flame by doing the genius idea of hitting it repeatedly with a cloth while Butters is circling in a panic next to them. Behind them, Craig is standing in the doorway, completely unfazed.

"Unbelievable!" Token chimes, his voice blaring over the loudspeaker, "Did you guys learn nothing from Captain Blaze?"

"I learned he's not a real captain," Clyde states, ceasing his hitting to raise his finger up in point.

Kenny stops as well, straightening his back a bit at the info, the fire expanding behind them, "Ooh. I did not know that. Good one, Clyde."

A noise that sounds like Token facepalming rings out above them, "Oh my God, will someone competent please put out the fire before this whole mansion goes up in flames?"

Seeing the growing fire, Kenny and Clyde both jump backwards with a shriek before joining Butters in his circle of panic as Stan stands nearby, staring dumbfoundedly at the scene. Token sighs while Craig shakes his head at his housemates' stupidity. He calmly walks forward, pulls out the fire extinguisher from the kitchen cabinet, aims it at the fire, and shoots. In less than a minute, the flames have dissipated.

Token gives a hearty exhale, the trio still screaming below him, "Thank you, Craig."

Sensing no danger, Clyde stops screaming, gently placing his hand on his chest to relax, "You know, the ironic thing is, Craig's the only one here who didn't watch the video," Clyde speaks, "Take that Captain Blaze!" he sasses, pointing his finger down at the tile.

"Man, I really don't pay myself enough for this," Token moans.

…

Craig Tucker
Only Competent Juror

Well, I've made it to the jury house, but my work in this game is not over, not by a long shot, because now I have to find a way to convince all of these people that Tweek is the best player in that house. (throws his thumb over his shoulder) – And knowing these idiots, that's not going to be easy, but I'm sure Tweek will help me out. (nods confidently)

…

Four hours later, after Token had the crewmates spend a good chunk of the morning completely fireproofing the house and even brought a real-life fireman in to give a speech to the group reminding them why arson is bad, the five jurors are gathered in the living room in front of the television, awaiting Token's instructions. The jury members are standing there puzzled, each holding a stack of cards and a thick black marker, "Good news, everyone. You're about to be relevant again!" Token's voice chimes over the loudspeaker.

Clyde wrinkles his forehead, "You mean we weren't relevant before?"

"Not really, no," Token answers bluntly, "Now, the upcoming challenge is jury themed, so I'm going to need your help answering questions for this week's riveting luxury competition. I'll ask each of you three questions, and you must choose one of the remaining houseguests as your response," he explains, as hostly as ever, "Since there is no prize for any of you, I will let you guys discuss your answers with your fellow jurors before you vote. Once these tasks are done, you will submit your answers by holding your cards up to the camera, and I will then display the results. You will be able to see each other's answers after the voting has concluded, but your individual answers will not be revealed to any of the houseguests. They will only hear the majority answer," he finishes, giving a hefty pause, "Are there any questions?" Craig raises his hand, "Yes, Craig?"

"What do they get if they win the luxury challenge?" he wonders.

"Wow. That's actually a good question, Craig," Token sasses, Craig glares at him in response, "Whoever wins this competition gets a thousand-dollar gift card that they can use to purchase a recreational item for the Big Brother backyard. And to answer your next question, yes, the results of this luxury competition will be displayed upon its completion this afternoon," he smiles, clasping his hands together, "Okay. If everyone is ready, we will start with our first question: Of the remaining five houseguests, who among them is the worst tipper?"

Kenny snorts as he scribbles down his answer, "I mean, do we even need to discuss this one? I'm almost positive everyone's picking Cartman." A few of the other jurors nod, causing a large smile to form on Kenny's face.

"Yeah, I figured I would start you guys off with an easy question before I start throwing out the fireballs," Token states, waiting for the other jurors to finish writing their answers. "Alright, well, since you're all in agreement about that one, here is question two: Who would you trust with your life?" he asks, noticing a sea of pensive faces washing over the group. "Because this is such a tricky question, I'm going to open the discussion on this one."

"Tweek, obviously," Craig answers, writing down his answer without giving it a second thought. Next to him, Clyde nods in agreement.

Kenny turns to Stan with a confident nod, "Definitely Kyle," he speaks.

"Yeah. I mean he's already saved me a few times, so he's earned this mark," Stan adds, scribbling down his answer.

Suddenly, everyone looks to Butters, who hasn't said a word since the competition started. Seeing their gazes, Butters nervously taps his knuckles.

"What about you, Buttercup? Who are you picking?" Kenny asks, playfully nudging the platinum blonde in the side.

"Oh, um, I said Wendy," Butters chimes, meagerly holding up his card, "She's always been a good friend to me."

"Fair enough," Token nods, before licking his lips in eager anticipation, "Alas, we have come to the question that will probably tear all of you apart," Token announces, not bothering to hide his gleeful tone, "If you had to decide at this moment, who is the winner of Big Brother?" he asks. All at once, the jurors look to each other, their eyes widening like deer.

Craig turns to the loudspeaker, raising his hand once more before speaking up, "Um…can we break off into groups for this one?"

Token shrugs, "I don't see why not."

The group of five breaks off into pairs, leaving Butters awkwardly alone in the center of the room in a span of ten seconds. Butters turns to the camera and waves, before leaning in with a grin. "My answer's Wendy for this one too," he sheepishly admits.

Stan and Kenny walk into the spacious backyard, closing the sliding glass door behind them. Stan sighs as he turns to his friend and fellow group member, "Okay, so…what are we doing?"

"Well, we're obviously rooting for Kyle, right?" Kenny answers; Stan nods, "So why don't we just vote for him?"

"Yeah…" Stan coos, turning towards the colorful horizon, "Maybe it really is that simple…" he trails off, basking in the serenity for a moment before a daunting thought pops into his mind, "Oh my God, I just thought of something. Whoever we pick as the winner is being revealed at the competition, right?"

"Right…" Kenny nods, unsure where he is going with this.

"Then we should make sure that we each vote for the same person, so they win and Kyle's frontrunner status is protected. Cause if the others find out that we're rooting for him, they'll probably try to cut Kyle at the next eviction ceremony," Stan explains, mentally patting himself on the back for an analysis well done. He sighs adoringly, "This is perfect; this is totally original. No one's ever thought of this before!"

Fifteen seconds earlier, Craig is standing with Clyde in the middle of the first-floor hallway, revealing his idea, "We should throw someone else under the bus, so Tweek doesn't get targeted," he states, deadpan.

Clyde curtly nods, impressed by his leader's thought process, "Good plan."

"Yeah, I thought so," Craig replies, mentally patting himself on the back, "So, I'll vote for Tweek because, you know, he's my world, and you'll vote for someone else. He's doing so well at flying under the radar, so we gotta make sure we protect him at all costs."

Clyde Donovan
Skeptical Ladies' Man

Ever since Craig came here, he is convinced that Tweek is the winner and that he's been the strategic mastermind of this whole season, but honestly, I just don't see it. I feel like Tweek's just been floating along this entire competition with no plan whatsoever. It's like he's just waiting to get voted off. I mean, where's the fight? Where's the enthusiasm? Where's the strategy? This is not the Tweek I know. And I think Craig may be too blinded by love to see that.

…

"Interesting, interesting," Token coos, after tallying up all the jurors' answers to the controversial final question, "This one's really across the board here: Stan and Kenny both voted for Bebe, Craig voted for Tweek…as a surprise to no one," Token casually mutters. He clears his throat and continues, "Clyde voted for Kyle, and Butters voted for Wendy. Well, I'm proud of all of you, and I'm only saying that because absolutely none of you voted for Cartman," he beams.

Kenny scoffs as he stares up at the ceiling, "Well, duh."

A few hours later, the jurors are gathered around the television screen, anxiously awaiting the competition results. Suddenly, the screen turns black for a moment, before the scores are posted onscreen in ascending order, the houseguests' point total right beside their signature Big Brother headshots. Kenny and Stan cheer as Kyle appears at the top, his winning score of nine points outlined in gold.

"Oomph. So close, babe," Craig states, gazing sadly at the TV screen at Tweek's second place score of eight points.

Craig Tucker
Mr. Positive? (Now that can't be right!)

Actually, it's probably a good thing that Tweek didn't win. It makes the target on his back much smaller. I just hope he isn't taking this too hard. (smiles encouragingly) – You can do it, honey! Hang in there.

Stan shakes his head as he eyes Cartman's abysmal, last-place score of one. "Man, Cartman sucks!"

"Hey, I'm surprised he even got one point," Kenny states, completing his jab with an eye roll, "What was the subject of this competition again?"

"Us," Stan reminds him, pointing up at the competition title at the top of the list.

Kenny condescendingly laughs and shakes his head, "Yeah, there's no way he's getting that half million dollars."

…

Early Friday evening, all five of the jurors are waiting in the grand foyer on eviction night, speculating who will join them in the jury house. Craig and Clyde are sitting side by side on the third step from the bottom of the curved staircase while Stan is leaning up against the wall next to them. Across the room, Kenny and Butters are sitting on two of the luxurious floral lounge chairs.

Craig Tucker
Pastor Craig

I miss Tweek so much, but every Friday night I'm just going to pray that he doesn't walk through that door.

Stan tiredly sighs, impatiently tapping his foot against the floorboard. He gazes briefly out the front window at the empty pathway before turning back to the close-knit group. "Who do you think is coming? Tweek?"

Craig leans back against the white-carpeted stairs, his arms crossed, "Nope. No way it's Tweek."

Stan skeptically raises an eyebrow, "Dude, you sound so sure as if he didn't just immediately fall apart the second you walked out the door."

"I'm not seeing my boyfriend until the final week, Stan," Craig states firmly, his stance unwavering while he glares up at him, "I would bet your life on it."

Stan cocks his forehead, baffled by Craig's claim, "Uh, don't you mean your life?"

"I know what I said," he snaps.

Stan turns to the camera and shrugs. He moves back to his original position, watching as Craig plops the side of his head against the wall with a disheartening sigh.

Stan Marsh
Cheeky Instigator

Seeing Craig so distraught here without Tweek is actually making him seem human. It's a weird sight for me. It makes me very uncomfortable.

…

Kenny McCormick
Fire Hydrant Philosopher

It's a real sausage-fest in here, especially with Stan and Craig throwing their testosterone around, so when I heard Bebe's voice, I was like, 'Thank God!'

"Hey, guys!" Bebe chimes, the young blonde radiating confidence as she saunters into the room like she's walking the runaway, wearing her pink designer sunglasses. She is carrying her duffel bag over one shoulder, her cashmere scarf bouncing with every step.

"Bebe!" Clyde hollers, his pupils dilating like he just saw the world's largest pizza. He races over to hug her. Bebe smiles, drapes an arm around him, and hugs him back, Clyde looking so content that he may as well start purring.

Immediately, all the other jurors surround her, overjoyed to see a fresh face that isn't Cartman's ugly mug. "What happened?" Stan wonders, asking the question before Craig can cut him off.

"Kyle won HOH and put me up against Wendy – took a page right out of The Book of Cartman," Bebe explains casually, taking off her shades and patting Clyde's back as he continues to hug her, no ill-will lacing her words.

"-Harsh," Kenny comments, cringing slightly at his friend's move.

"I know," she states genuinely, turning to acknowledge the rest of the group, "Cartman even forced the tie and tried to save me. I felt like I was living in the bizarro world! We didn't have the best relationship in the house," she elaborates, addressing the puzzled faces, "We actually got into a screaming match a few days ago."

"How's Tweek?" Craig asks, Stan rolling his eyes at his rival's one-track mind.

Bebe turns to Craig, giving a small smile, "He's fine. A little mopey since you left. He actually stopped caring for himself for a while, but he bounced right back," she says, tightening her grip on her strap, "He cuddles with your hat now; it's so adorable."

Stan sighs, his arms crossed in a pout, "It's kinda weird that you're talking him up so much, Bebe, considering he voted to evict you."

"Yeah, but he really had no choice," she explains, still as classy as ever, "The three of us – myself, Tweek, and Wendy – had an alliance."

"Really?" Craig squeaks, the noirette shocked to hear this news, his eyes glowing in awe and admiration.

Craig Tucker
President of the Tweek Tweak Fan Club

That sneaky little bitch. (smirks)

"But I have to tell you, everyone in there is playing their ass off. It's so intense, you can actually feel the heat," Bebe unabashedly informs the group as Clyde finally pulls away from the hug and stands beside her.

Stan and Kenny turn to each other, bemused by the statements, "You're kidding," Stan mutters.

"No. Everyone's really bringing their A game. I can honestly see myself voting for any one of them to win, depending on the circumstances."

Kenny steps forward, scrunching his nose at the thought, "Even Cartman?"

"Oh yeah," Bebe answers indubitably, the rest of the jury raising their eyebrows at the response, "Cartman is a good strategic player, though it would be hard to get past the fact that he was just so horrible to be around. And he was awful to everybody," she admits, turning to Clyde as she opens up the floodgates to dish out the dirt, "Oh my God, you should've seen what he did to Tweek-"

Craig steps out from behind the crowd, his glare ice cold as he instantly switches into protective boyfriend mode, "What did he do to Tweek?" he snarls, his fists already clenched so hard, they're turning scarlet.

"Um, nothing," Bebe squeaks, sweatdropping at Craig's terrifying demeanor. She leans into Clyde, lowering her voice to a whisper, "I'll tell you later." Clyde nods. Bebe snaps her head up, still feeling Craig's eyes boring into her. She sighs and quickly addresses him, hoping to ease Craig's concern as she stoutly faces him head-on, "Tweek's fine, Craig. He's a tough dude," she states, flashing a tiny smile, "So, who wants to show me to my room?"

…

Later that night, Bebe is sitting at the dining table with the rest of the jury, the blonde all smiles since her arrival to the jury house. Bebe reaches forward and grabs her mug of hot chocolate, the warm surface soothing her hands from the air conditioning.

"So, tell us the truth, Bebe," Kenny speaks, leaning back smugly in his seat, "who do you really want to win?"

Bebe tilts her forehead, tapping the tips of her manicured fingers on her mug, which is sculptured to look like a gray tabby cat head, "Well, I would be lying if I said I wasn't rooting for my bestie. I think she's played a great game, even if she wasn't as dominant as Kyman when it came to the challenges," Bebe goes to take another sip of her drink but stops, eyeing the perturbed expressions on the others' faces, "-Oh, sorry. That's one of the names we used for Kyle and Cartman's alliance – Kyman," she clarifies, suppressing a smirk, "We also called them 'The Terrible Two.'"

Kenny's jaw drops to the floor. "You're joking," he awes, his reaction mirroring many of the others, "You mean they're actually working together?"

"Yep," Bebe sharply nods, "They have been for a while too – at least since Week 4. It took us a while to figure it out, but Tweek pieced it together near Craig's eviction. They kept winning HOHs week after week, and if things keep going this way, Wendy and Tweek will be out back to back," Bebe states, Craig frowning from his seat across the table, "They want to take each other to the finals, Tweek was very certain about that. And if Wendy or Tweek can't find a way to win an HOH, that's going to be our finale," she sighs, seemingly distraught by this dilemma.

"So, you don't want Kyle to win?" Stan frowns, unsure how to process her comments.

Bebe shakes her head, "I never said that. I just think his and Cartman's paths to the end are much easier since they were so aggressive. That can be a pro or a con, depending on how you look at it," she says, taking another sip of her hot chocolate. Bebe grins as the other jury members continue to hang onto her every word, "Man, this stuff is good," she beams.

…

Stan Marsh
Sleepless in South Park

I don't know why, but I did not sleep at all last night. It's almost as if my brain was trying to tell me something. But instead of trying to face my inner demons, I decided to drown them out with caffeine. But as luck would have it, all the coffee was gone, and since this house is devoid of Tweek Tweak, I think it's fairly obvious who's the culprit.

…

"The coffee's missing," Stan blares, his head popping up above Craig's mattress like a whack-a-mole.

Craig jumps up in bed a bit and quickly scrambles back against the wall, the morning light from the window barely peeking into his room. Craig sighs and pulls the covers up, the noirette surprisingly wearing his own clothes for once. "Oh," he states in his typical monotone, crossing his arms over his chest, "And you think I took it?"

"Well, you are…you know…dating Tweek," Stan replies, rolling back on the soles of his feet.

"So that means I stole the coffee? Unbelievable," Craig sighs, rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness as Stan's face softens, "I don't even drink that shit."

Stan sweatdrops, suddenly feeling quite ashamed of what now feels like a rather baseless accusation, "You're right. That is a bit of a stretch. Sorry," he squeaks.

"Yeah, well, you should be," Craig grunts. He watches as Stan exits the room, invisible tail between his legs as he sulks out, the stoic giving him a glare the whole way.

Craig shifts his eyes, scanning the area before leaning over his pillow and pulling the missing bag of coffee out from under it. He frantically opens the bag and sighs, taking a whiff of the euphoric scent that he has come to know and love. "Hopefully someday I'll have the real thing," he whispers, a single tear budding in the corner of his eye.

…

Later that morning, Token calls the six jury members into the living room, most of them looking like they just woke up five seconds before the announcement. Clyde yawns, groggily scratching his armpit as he squints at the loudspeaker. "Good morning, jurors!" Token chimes, the host clearly a morning person. A handful of the jurors grunt in response.

"Good morning!" Butters beams, standing next to a sleepy Kenny.

"Thank you, Butters," Token chimes, "It's nice to see that someone is ready for this game-changing announcement."

"Oh God," Craig groans, "Please tell me it's not time for another one of your terrible twists," he mutters, rubbing his aching temples.

Token's face falls, "Gee, thanks, Craig," he remarks, his tone a lot less chirper, "But I guess you are kind of correct because it is time for our second and final Viewers' Choice question. And unlike the first one, this question directly involves you, the jury, so here it is," he reiterates, before flashing the question on the television, "Which jury member would you like to see return to the Big Brother house for an entire afternoon?" he beams, stopping slightly to gauge their reactions. Butters and Clyde both look amused while Stan is shaking in place, looking like he just saw a ghost. Bebe is sporting her nice, optimistic smile as Kenny shoots the camera two thumbs up. But no one is as ecstatic as Craig, who looks like he just walked into a guinea pig sanctuary, his smile so big it might fall off his face.

"That's right, it's time for a crossover!" Token exclaims, laughing at their spectrum of reactions, which are as colorful as the rainbow. "So, here's how this'll work: The audience will vote today and the top two vote-getters will be escorted by yours truly into the house tomorrow. To make it fair, you guys are not allowed to discuss anything about the game with any of the remaining contestants. You can't exchange information with them, or tell them what the other jury members think of them, or anything that could give them an advantage going into these final few weeks. Understand?" The six jury members firmly nod in response, "Good. So enjoy your day, everyone, and I will be back here first thing tomorrow morning to reveal the results and get this whole train wreck started. Token out!" he cries, snapping twice before dropping off.

"Wow…" Clyde sings, nudging his best friend playfully in the side, "Well, I know someone's excited," Clyde coos, giving Craig a sly smirk as he scans him over, "Probably in more ways than one."

"I'm so happy, I'm not even going to retaliate," Craig sighs, a glazed-over look in his eyes while he hugs Tweek's shirt in his palms like a balled-up blanket. Behind him, Stan is trembling, feeling his day of reckoning rapidly approaching.

…

Stan Marsh
Preparing to Write His Will

Well, after last night, I can't say I didn't see this coming. I've been very fortunate that I haven't had to face Kyle or Wendy since I burned them a month ago, but something tells me that my luck is about to run out, especially if the audience has anything to say about it.

And now, I'm really hoping that Craig wins this Viewers' Choice because one, it would probably save my ass, and two, he's been a mopey asshole here without Tweek – which is ten times worse than just his usual brand of asshole – and I could really use a break.

…

That night, Clyde is sitting at the dining table, Butters' collection of scented crayons littering the surface. Clyde sighs as he carefully holds Tweek's last remaining box of backup contacts against the table. He picks up a blueberry-scented crayon and takes a whiff, his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lip as he struggles to maintain his deep concentration.

"Are you still working on that thing?" Craig speaks up, the raven lingering near the dimly-lit kitchen island, "We don't even know if I'm going to win yet. Don't tell me you've been drawing all night."

Clyde pulls the crayon away slightly, flashing his friend a peeved look as he leans against his lavish dining chair, "It has to be perfect, Craig. I only get one shot at this. I have to make it count!" he shouts, gesturing to the image. Craig watches as Clyde grabs the discarded banana crayon and sprinkles a few finishing touches onto the box.

Craig leans forward, gazing at the final drawing, which is one step above a scribble, "Wow. It's-"

"-my best work!" Clyde beams, his eyes shining pridefully. Clyde locks gazes with Craig, eagerly awaiting his confirmation. Craig stares down at the brunette's puppy-dog eyes and smiles, knowing he doesn't have the heart to tell him it isn't true. Clyde cheers when Craig gingerly nods; Clyde throws his arms up, rollercoaster style, "Whoo! Take that, Picasso!"

…

"Alright, everyone. It is time to reveal the results of the second and final Viewers' Choice of the season!" Token declares, the host bright and cheery as he gazes down at the semi-circle of jurors standing below him, "But first, I just want to tell all of you that-"

"Oh my God, will you please just get on with it? I'd like to know if my life is over already!" Stan interjects, his eyes bloodshot from yet another sleepless night tossing and turning.

Token rolls his eyes and huffs, "Well, I was going to tell you guys how much I appreciate all of you, but now I'm just not in the mood. So, here's your results, jerks!" Token sasses, his tone shifting like a toddler about to throw a tantrum. He presses a button on his keyboard, causing the poll results to display on the television screen in ascending order, based on the juror's overall percentage of the votes, the two winning jurors outlined in gold. The list reads: #1. Craig – 43.5%, #2. Kenny – 23.9%, #3. Stan – 19.6%, #4. Butters – 6.5%, #5. Clyde – 4.3%, #6. Bebe – 2.2%.

The room is silent as all six of the jurors soak in the results. A few seconds later, everyone bursts into cheers. Strangely enough, everyone appears to be pleased by the outcome, even the bottom-three finishers. "Damn, Craig," Kenny awes, giving a whistle at Craig's hefty lead as Stan reaches forward and gives his rival a congratulatory pat on the back. Craig is as stiff as a board as he gazes up at the results, looking like he is about to burst into happy tears at any moment.

"Hey, I'm not surprised," Token chimes above them, "Tweek was practically begging for Craig to come back last episode."

Craig flushes and gives a small smile, feeling so loved by both his boyfriend and the audience.

After a round of congratulatory hugs for the two winners, Token casually struts into the jury house and waves them to the exit. "Alright, you two, let's go. We gotta get you in there before Cartman eats everything in the kitchen." Craig and Kenny both nod and follow suit, the latter giving a parting wave to his fellow jurors, who are all now standing in the open front doorway watching them go. Kenny turns around and follows Token and Craig down the intricate stone pathway to the main house.

Token stops the pair short and turns to them, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He deviously rubs his hands together, his smirk resembling a certain fatass', "Now, I could let you guys just walk in here all willy-nilly, but why not have a little fun?" he grins, bending over and grabbing the brand-new orange parka that is sitting on the BB front porch, the hues from the sun making him look ten times more sinister than usual. Kenny and Craig turn curiously to each other and shrug.

…

Kenny McCormick
Immortal Being/The Next Mint Berry Crunch?

I've had some great and some not-so-great luck here. The fact that I died on my way to the jury house definitely wasn't lucky, but it did make my leg heal almost perfectly. (smiles and stretches it up to the camera) And me winning this Viewers' Choice could be a blessing or a curse. But I'm ready to see Kyle again; I really missed him.

…

Stan Marsh
More Than Just a Jerk?

I talked to Kenny last night about how I was feeling about the whole Kyle situation and what my fears have been going into this Viewers' Choice twist, and I'm glad Kenny is getting the opportunity to talk to Kyle and sort of mend the fences between us because I really am sorry about what happened and I worry about him a lot. (sniffs)

…

Later that night, the four losing jury members are sitting around Token's fancy electric firepit in the backyard, having a blast roasting marshmallows and just getting to know one another. Bebe perks up a bit when she sees the sliding glass door open, Kenny quickly hopping onto the concrete and joining them. Craig lingers behind him, his mind spaced as he thinks about what Tweek revealed to him that evening and his eyes still aching from his stress-induced outburst.

"How was it?" Bebe wonders, all of the other jurors ready to hang onto the adventurers' every word, "Who won HOH?"

Craig blinks twice, "Cartman," he replies, his voice a flurry of emotion.

Clyde sighs and slides another five hot dogs onto his stick. He tisks and leans it over the fire, "Bummer," he states, voicing what everyone is thinking.

Craig gingerly nods, his hands in his pockets as he moseys back into the house, the noirette not feeling much like catching up.

…

Nine hours later, Bebe, Stan, and Kenny are eating breakfast on the extravagant, mahogany dining room table, surprisingly able to see the surface for once due to the absence of their friend who puts garbage disposals to shame. Stan freezes in place, his spoon hovering over his cereal bowl as a boisterous noise that sounds like it's coming from a rather-large plane blares over the house, the mere power of its winds causing the table to shake slightly. The trio exchange frightened glances before hopping out of their seats and making a beeline to the backyard.

They look up, only to find a moderately-sized, white plane flying across the vivid, blue sky, a banner tied to its tail. The banner reads: "Save Kyle! Mental health is not a joke!" in big, black letters.

"Save Kyle! Mental health is not a joke?" Stan reads, his tone cracked and uncertain. He turns to Kenny, the friends flashing concerned expressions.

"Token, what the hell is going on?" Stan fires fifteen minutes later, after the trio informed the rest of the jury of what they saw. All of the jury members are gathered around the largest loudspeaker, which is located smackdab in the center of the living room, circling it like they're holding an intervention, "Is something up with Kyle?" he asks, worry etched on his face.

Token sighs, not bothering to mask his irritation, "There is nothing wrong with Kyle, okay? Kyle is still in the house."

"Okay," Butters coos, anxiously tapping his knuckles together, "but then why was there a banner flying over here saying he's in trouble?"

Token exhales like the weight of the world is teetering on his shoulders, "He's not in trouble," he snaps, "I've just been having some issues with a certain someone he is connected to trying to take matters into her own hands because apparently, I don't know how to properly take care of my contestants!" he growls, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh…" Kenny nods, "That sounds like Kyle's mom," he states to Stan.

"Um…right, well, now that you guys know what's going on, I think it would be in everyone's best interest if none of you talk about this with anyone ever again - especially not Kyle!" Token cries, too enraged for something that is no big deal and swiftly taking his finger off the talk button before anyone can fire off another question.

Kenny instantly turns to the others, sporting his signature, fun-loving smile, "So, you guys want to talk about this all morning?" he asks, his question immediately cascaded by a slew of yeses.

…

"It's the ex," Stan states almost instantly, picking the lint off one of the sofa arms as he sits with Kenny and the others in the living room, the strange events of this morning still fresh in his mind.

"Really?" Kenny chimes, shocked but intrigued by this theory, "That doesn't seem like something Dee would do."

"Yeah, which makes me think it's her. You heard Token's voice; he seemed genuinely overwhelmed," Stan explains, mindlessly picking off crumbs, "He was prepared to handle Kyle's mom – he knew she was going to be a challenge when he cast him – but he was not prepared to handle the ex."

Bebe taps her fingernails against the side of the sofa, "Eh…I really don't think so. She came to the house Week 4, and they ended on good terms. It just doesn't make sense that she would try to pull him from the game. She was the one encouraging him to stay."

"Yeah, I agree with Bebe," Clyde chimes, throwing his two cents into the mix, "If this is about Kyle's well-being, which it sounds like it is based on what Token said, it makes more sense that it's Mama Bear who's causing a ruckus."

"Huh. That is a sound argument," Kenny says, rubbing his chin as he thinks this over. Beside him, Stan nods, but his face is still filled with skepticism.

…

Kenny McCormick
Mr. Perceptive

I get it. I totally get why someone is trying to pull Kyle from the game. The poor dude is spiraling. When I saw Kyle yesterday, he looked like he was one step away from a full-fledged meltdown. He told me a lot about what he was going through in the house, which I am going to choose to keep private. And he also told me that he wanted Dee back, but I am sure as hell not going to tell Stan that cause in case you haven't noticed, that guy is obsessed.

…

Craig Tucker
Rejuvenated Gay

Stan clearly has a lot of issues with Kyle's ex-girlfriend, Dee, which makes total sense because she is a decent person and he is not and Kyle still seems to be crazy in love with her. Of course, I'm not going to tell Stan that, I'm not that evil…I think. But Kyle and Wendy were also sucking face right before I was evicted the first time, so…I'm not sure if and when I'm going to drop that bombshell. I guess it just depends on how much Stan is pissing me off today.

…

Early that afternoon, Stan is sitting solo at the kitchen table, grumbling to himself as he stares at the picture on the back of the Cheesy Puffs Cereal box. Stan's ear twitches slightly when he hears Craig mosey into the kitchen, whistling as he strolls over to the fridge. "Well, I see someone got laid," Stan states with a simper, barely lifting his head up from the box.

"Oh, yes, he really drilled me," Craig beams, very case-in-point as he takes a can of sofa out and pops it open, "It's nice to be sore for a good reason," Craig pauses, noticing the look of bewilderment and disgust shining on Stan's face; Craig shrugs, "What? I wasn't going to drill him. He had a HOH competition yesterday," he reminds him, casually sipping his drink.

Stan sighs, looking like he just took a whiff of sour milk, "You see, this is one of those instances where you should've stopped talking a minute ago."

"Alright, well that fact's noted and has been thrown into the incinerator," Craig smirks, shaking his head as he turns. He walks away from a disturbed Stan, making sure he is out of earshot before unleashing a chuckle, "God, that idiot is too easy to mess with."

…

Later that evening, the six jury members are gathered around the front door, anxiously awaiting the weekly arrival of the newly evicted houseguest. Stan smiles and clasps his hands together, shooting Craig a coy smirk from the stairs, "Alright, so this week it's Tweek."

Craig rolls his eyes as he leans up against the wall beside him, his arms crossed, "Shut the fuck up, Stan."

"You know, after all the craziness this season, I'm surprised we haven't had any major outbursts yet," Clyde notes, standing beside his ex, "It seems like everyone who comes in here is pretty calm and collected."

The door creaks open, the action so subtle most of the jury barely notices. All of a sudden, Wendy steps into the house, visibly distraught, the young woman dragging her bag on the floor behind her. She sobs, barely able to lift her hand in greeting, following Kyle' brutal banishment of her from the house. Seeing this, Bebe immediately darts over to comfort her, pulling her bestie into a hug.

"You just had to say something," Kenny tisks, playfully nudging Clyde in the side; the brunette nudges back before somberly looking at the scene with a sigh.

Bebe Stevens
Blonde Bestie

Well, to say I was disappointed to see Wendy walk through that door tonight would be a gross understatement. But unfortunately, based on Cartman's win, I'm not surprised. I think Kyman is purposely saving Tweek for last because they assume that they can beat him. But you know what they say about assumptions. (smiles covertly) – I just hope the saying's true.

Craig cocks his forehead in validation before leaning down and whispering in Stan's ear, "Huh. That doesn't look like Tweek," he smirks.

Stan leans back against the wall and rolls his eyes, "There's still time," he churlishly mutters.

Craig Tucker
Determined Tweeksexual

I'm not stupid. I know none of these people believe me that Tweek is the winner and that he's been puppeteering this entire season because he's a top-notch competitor. And honestly, I feel like right now, he's down 6-1 in votes. (pauses lightly, scratching his chin with a grin) – Huh, now where have I seen that before?

…

After a few more minutes of tears, Wendy sniffles and pulls away from her best friend's arms. She wipes away the last of her tears and smooths her skirt out, taking a deep breath and collecting herself. "Oh, before I forget, here," Wendy chimes, reaching into her skirt pocket and pulling out her BFF's golden charm necklace. She hands it to her, "Tweek said you forgot this."

"Aww, thank you!" Bebe chimes, clearly touched by the gesture, "I totally forgot I left this in the bathroom," she adds, fastening it expertly around her neck as the rest of the jury watches the duo.

Wendy Testaburger
Bebe's BFF/Second Tweek Supporter

As much as it sucks to be here and to lose to that fat idiot and his spineless henchman, I really hope Tweek wins that final HOH competition because his strategy is just on another level. Like this is Kyle (holds palm one inch above the carpet) and this is Tweek (holds her palm two feet above her head before plopping back down on the sofa) – And to me, that is the difference between a deserving winner and a joke of a human being.

…

Five minutes later, after everyone said their greetings to Wendy, sans Stan, who just awkwardly shuffled away before he could make eye contact, Wendy is standing at the top of the staircase with Bebe, preparing to embark on her grand tour of the mansion. "Hold that thought," Wendy chimes, holding her finger up to stop her bestie when she sees Craig leaning somberly against his bedroom door frame, arms crossed and staring down at the floor.

Wendy stops in front of Craig, the stoic barely lifting his head up at her arrival while Bebe peculiarly watches from the opposite end of the corridor. Wendy smiles, her bubbly demeanor returning as she lowers her voice a tad. An oddly proud smile is gracing her face while her pupils shine a bit from the ceiling lights, "Your boyfriend is playing everybody in that house, and they don't even know it yet," she reveals, quickly swerving on her foot and walking away, her heels clanking against the wooden floorboard as she goes.

Craig straightens his back slightly, watching as Wendy departs, his mind reeling over what she just said. He pauses, taking it all in, and smiles smugly before turning to a nearby camera lens, "I told you," he boasts.

Chapter Text

Kenny McCormick
Unpaid Recapper

Well, I had a long conversation with Bebe this morning to get the inside scoop on the final three, and I guess there was major drama between Kyle and Wendy in the house that was both personal and game-related. There was something about the two of them being kind of a thing, and Wendy destroying what she thought was Dee's letter out of jealousy. And I guess Wendy thought she and Kyle were aligned together, but he betrayed her by putting her and Bebe on the block. Then Kyle betrayed her again when he solely evicted her after they mended things. The whole thing just sounds like a gigantic mess. But I gotta hand it to Wendy, if this stuff is 100% true, then I'm surprised she didn't come in here cursing his name. But if you ask me, I think they're both at fault, and the whole personal aspect of it just needs to stay between the two of them because I'm here to judge if Kyle is a good game player, not if he's a good Casanova. (laughs)

…

Wendy Testaburger
Wants to See the House Go Up in Flames? (Too late, Testaburger!)

I've been holding off on telling the rest of the jury what happened yesterday because I want them to see firsthand what Kyle did to me when we watch the tape today. You see, every time someone gets evicted from the Big Brother house, they are given a tape to give to the other jury members to watch, which features footage from all the competitions and the nomination and eviction ceremonies from that week, so they can see for themselves what transpired in the house. Because I know no matter what I say, I'm never going to be able to do it justice.

…

Later that morning, all seven of the jurors are gathered in the living room, fully immersed in the Week 7 recap video that is playing onscreen, minus Wendy, who is turned towards her fellow jurors, hoping to gauge their reactions. "Wendy," the Kyle on the TV states, so emotionally drained that he looks like he just finished three midterms in a row, "I care about you a lot, but I just don't think you and I have a future together, both here or in the game."

"Holy shit, dude. Talk about terrible timing," Kenny remarks, gesturing to Cartman's jaw that is now dropping onscreen, "Look, even Cartman is surprised by it!"

"I'm so sorry, Wendy, but I want to win, and in order to do that, I have to let you go. That's why tonight, I vote to evict you," Kyle states as cold as ice, delivering this news with the final twist of a knife. Bebe glares at TV Kyle.

Pure silence washes over both sets of houseguests until TV Token breaks through it with a single word, "Wow."

"Wow is right, man. This is brutal," Clyde says, shoveling a handful of chips into his mouth and indulging in their salty goodness. Next to him, Craig scoots a little to the right, hoping to dodge some of the cascading crumbs.

"She just got dumped on national television," Token continues, his mercilessly honest commentary only seeming to make the situation worse.

"Wait, 'dumped on national television'? What does he mean by that?" Stan wonders, the crystal-clear implication flying right over his dense, hatted head. He turns to the other jury members for clarification; they all ignore him.

"That's brutal, Kahl," Cartman's voice blares from the sofa, his comment almost matching the fun-loving food machine's.

"Well, as difficult as that was to watch, the show must go on, so I'm sorry, Wendy, but with Kyle's sole vote for eviction, you are the seventh person evicted from the Big Brother house," Token announces, making it official.

All eyes from both houses are on TV Wendy as she angrily stands up from her seat. She passes by Kyle, who is desperately trying to catch her eyeline. She stops beside him, smoke practically shooting out of her ears. "I trusted you twice in this game, and each time you let me down," Wendy snarls, looking like she could kill a man with her glare alone, "Congratulations, Kyle. You're now the new King of Darkness, and all it cost you was your soul," she spits. The screen fades to black.

The jury sits in silence, basking in the awkwardness of what just occurred.

"Wow…" Clyde coos, the first one brave and/or stupid enough to speak on the matter, "That was a bit unexpected."

"Yeah," Stan agrees, clearing his throat from behind the sofa, "I was definitely not expecting that. So, um, were you guys together or what?" Stan asks, quickly diverting the topic and turning to his ex. Wendy ignores him once again.

"Kyle's a fuckin' coward," Craig states, his arms crossed as he turns from the screen, "If he was going to dump her, he should've at least waited until they were alone, not when the entire house was present. I mean, what the hell was he thinking? That situation would've ended ruthless at best. I really don't understand where his head was at here."

"I think that's the problem," Kenny voices beside him, "Kyle clearly wasn't thinking when he did it. I mean, you guys could see the emotional turmoil on his face – the dude is going through a lot. He probably just wanted to cut things off before he dragged her down with him."

"-Too late," Wendy mutters, sinking into the sofa. Bebe pats her on the shoulder.

"Well," Kenny coos, turning to his fellow jurors as he claps his hands together, hoping to keep the peace, "this certainly gives us a lot more to think about."

…

Five days later, after all the jury members have long since dispersed from the living room to partake in their usual routines, Wendy is standing in the doorway of the only girls bedroom, smiling at her bestie. "I'll be right back, Bebe, then I'll show you those amazing shoes I got at the BB Boutique!" she promises with a chime, before swerving on her heel and jogging down the hallway. Wendy halts immediately when she almost bumps into someone. She lifts her head up, sweatdropping when she finds herself face to face with none other than Stan.

The pair stare at each other for a moment, both choked out of words to say. Suddenly, Stan clears his throat, his eyes running over his ex-girlfriend's facial features. "Oh, uh, hi," he awkwardly greets.

Wendy shakes her head as she stares down at the floor. Stan watches as she sidesteps and quickly saunters past him. "Hey, wait!" Stan cries, his voice echoing off the hallway walls and stopping Wendy in her tracks, "Aren't you going to say anything to me?" Stan wonders, staring at her back, "Or are we just going to have this awkward existence where we're both here but we don't acknowledge each other?"

Wendy sighs, a million thoughts racing through her mind as she hears the sound of Stan's footsteps slowly approaching her, like a lion stalking its prey. "Fine. You want me to acknowledge you? I will," Wendy states, turning to her ex firmly, "I was with you, Stan. I was with you through it all: every hospital trip, every relapse, every cry in front of the bathroom toilet, making sure that you stayed alive," Wendy lists, Stan's expression softening at her reminder, "I guess I just don't get you. I don't get why you would be so quick to throw away the girl who held your hand while you vomited on her prom dress and comforted you when your grandfather died," Wendy squeaks, the words as painful to push out as the memories were to live.

"Wendy," Stan gulps, not expecting their first confrontation to be quite so heavy, his voice littered with emotion, "I'm sorry, okay? Clearly, there's something wrong with me. You didn't deserve any of that."

"Well, I'm glad we finally agree on something, Stan," Wendy huffs, swerving on her heel and exiting down the corridor before he can hurt her again.

Stan sighs as he watches her go, feeling as broken as Cartman's sense of morality. After a few moments, he turns to the side, eyeing Craig, who is awkwardly standing in the bathroom doorway, staring at Stan with that same deadpan expression. Stan sighs once more, figuring he may as well confess since Craig probably witnessed the whole confrontation anyway. "Alright fine, Craig. I was in rehab a few years ago. Are you going to rib me for it or what?"

"Of course not," Craig scrunches his forehead, "That would be a bit hypocritical, don't you think? You know, cause of the bae…"

"Yeah, well…I'm glad you're not that evil," Stan states, unable to restrain a smile from forming on his face in spite of the cringey pet name.

Craig nods, "True. I mean, I did cheer and run laps around the house the morning after you were evicted, but that was justified."

"Right," Stan replies, pausing slightly as the reality behind Craig's words finally sinks in, "Wait, what?"

…

Wendy Testaburger
Badass Raven/Too Good for Stan Marsh

Well, my first conversation with Stan was awkward at best, but I've wasted enough of my life crying over him already, so I am completely out of fucks to give. The show must go on, so it's time for me to focus all of my energy on being a kickass jury member.

Last night was the final HOH competition of the season, which in my opinion, pretty much makes or breaks a player's game. Whoever wins the competition automatically earns a spot in the finals and gets to decide who to take with them. That's why I'm hoping that Tweek won because I really don't think Kyle or Cartman have the heart to take him to the end.

I was prepared to watch the entire competition last night, but Token cut off the stream a few hours in and just left us with a timer that barely gave us any information. Craig told me that the competition ended at six-thirty in the morning today, which is absolutely insane. But of course, Token isn't telling us who won and is probably purposely keeping the results a secret to keep us on our toes. And if that's what he's trying to do here, then mission accomplished.

…

Craig Tucker
Nervous Wreck/Lovable Science Nerd

It is the night of the final eviction of the season, and everyone has been hovering around the door all day just waiting to see who's going to join us. Because basically, whoever walks through that door this evening is going to tell us who is in the final two, which is why I am praying to all that I hold dear that I don't see my boyfriend tonight.

…

That evening, all seven of the jury members are standing in the grand foyer, a tense atmosphere fulminating around them. Kenny is leaning against one of the front windows, designating himself as the official lookout while Clyde is sitting on the stairs beside him, eating his third dinner. Bebe and Wendy are sitting side by side on the floral lounge chairs while Butters is sitting on the floor in front of them, hugging his Hello Kitty pebble sock. Stan is pacing the center of the carpet while Craig is leaning on the back wall behind him with his arms crossed, trying to appear less frazzled than he feels at the moment.

"So, who do you guys think is coming tonight?" Bebe wonders, the air arid around the group.

"I think it's either Tweek or Kyle," Kenny answers, pressing his face against the window, not bothering to conceal his opinion.

"I say Tweek," Stan states, causing Craig to immediately shoot him a glare. Stan sees this and shrugs.

Clyde cocks his forehead, stopping halfway through his chicken tender to look up at him, "You think Cartman won?"

"No. I think Kyle won and he took Cartman to the finals. That's what I would do. Instant $500,000," Stan coos, complete with an abysmal attempt at jazz hands. Butters chuckles.

"Actually, in that scenario, Stan, Cartman would've won," Craig rebukes, smirking slightly. Stan's face drops as he shoots Craig a glare of his own.

Wendy sighs from her seat, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering like crazy. "I swear if Tweek walks through that door tonight, I am going to cry."

"He won't. Trust me," Craig states, sounding like he's never been more sure of something in his life, "If there's one thing that's hard to break, it's my boyfriend."

Clyde scrunches his eyebrows, swallowing the last few bites of his chicken tender before turning to his best friend like a confused puppy, "Was that an innuendo or just a general comment?" he wonders. Craig rolls his eyes at the chandelier.

Kenny McCormick
Official Jury Lookout

Right now, most of us are in agreement that there are only two competitors for the money: Kyle and Tweek, so it's going to be real interesting if Cartman walks through that door tonight, cause I have no idea how we're ever going to decide who wins this thing.

All of a sudden, Kenny's eyes pop open as he spies a trio walking down the pathway, two of them carrying what looks to be a massive heap of human garbage. Kenny covers his mouth in utter shock, concealing his enormous grin at the sight. "Oh my God, it's Cartman! It's Cartman! They're dragging him in!" Kenny exclaims, turning to his fellow jurors with the biggest shit-eating grin he's worn all season.

"What? No way!" Clyde squeaks, quickly standing up and peeking out the window. All the other jurors dart forward and cluster together near the window to watch the scene, just like they did when they saw Ben Affleck's parents, the Thompsons, nearly ten years prior.

"Yes way! That's him! And…he just escaped," Kenny narrates, chuckling as he watches Cartman attempt to bolt back to the Big Brother house, only to fall flat on his face.

The jury members step back from the door as one of the guards swings it open. Him and his fellow burly buddy haul Cartman in kicking and screaming, the fatass squealing like a pig. They deposit Cartman on the floor before making a snappy exit, one of the guards carelessly tossing Cartman's duffel bag by his feet before slamming the door shut behind him.

Cartman clears his throat, all eyes gawking at him as he casually brushes himself off. Cartman stands up straight and poses all coolly, like he wasn't just dragged in kicking and screaming by security. "Hello," he says, giving a curt wave.

"Hi, Eric!" Butters cheerfully greets while all the other jury members continue to stare at Cartman like he's an alien who puts probes in people's anuses.

Finally, Kenny steps forward and speaks, "Dude, what happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened, Kinny," Cartman cries, his demeanor instantly shifting into pure rage, "That little bitch took me out!"

"Who? Kyle?" Stan squeaks, tilting his forehead.

Cartman shakes his head, "No. The spaz," Craig lifts his head up with a smirk, his face lighting up at this comment as all the other jurors' mouths drop in unison. Cartman turns to him, narrowing his eyes at the stoic, who is leaning up against the wall beside him. Cartman walks forward and points a finger at his chest, his face seething, "I don't know what the hell you said to him, Craig, but he would just not let go of that damn key!"

"Yep, that sounds like Tweek," Craig states, totally calm and collective as he struggles to suppress his colossal grin. He clears his throat and holds his finger up, casually turning to his fellow jurors, "Excuse me for a moment."

Everyone watches curiously as Craig steps out onto the living room balcony, gingerly closing the glass door behind him and disappearing into the backyard. Kenny and Stan turn to each other and shrug before Craig releases a monumental, uncharacteristically boisterous victory screech into the horizon. Clyde smiles from ear to ear, basking in his best friend's unbridled happiness.

…

Craig Tucker
Dork Who Just Broke the Sound Barrier

Man, I don't think any of us have ever been so happy to see Cartman. I know I was thrilled. (beams, tearing up a bit) I knew Tweek could do it. He's my badass little ball of fury. I mean, you saw what he did to the living room.

…

"It was your pants! Your goddamn pants fell from the roof, Craig, and it threw me off!" Cartman shouts, still ranting about his apparent loss almost five minutes later to anyone who is unfortunate enough to be in earshot, "And then, after he cheats to win, Tweek has the audacity to look me in the eyes at the final eviction ceremony, and you know what he says to me?"

"No, what?" Craig asks, humoring Cartman just to squeeze more info out of him as the rest of the jury half-listens around them, the sweet, innocent Butters being the only person who is showing even an ounce of sympathy for his friend.

Cartman rolls his eyes, "He says: 'You got rid of the best players, blah blah blah, but I'm not you. I'm not afraid of anyone, blah blah blah, I'm taking Kyle. You underestimated me and now you're going to be one day short," he blares. Cartman turns to the jury, thinking he is going to be met by a sea of condolence, but most of them are gleaming at Tweek's sick burn.

"Damn…Tweek is savage," Kenny sasses, himself, Craig, and Wendy getting a major boost by this news. Kenny steps forward, licking his lips at his main adversary as he prepares to unleash a comment that was seven weeks in the making, "You know, it's funny Cartman, I walked out of the house Week 1 and you walked out Week 8, yet we're still going home with the same amount of money. The only difference is I got to spend seven weeks in a kickass mansion, did you?" he gloats.

"Damn…that's brutal, McCormick," Craig comments, equally smirking next to him as he uses Cartman's own comment against him.

Cartman clenches his fists as he sneers at the two: first at the poor low-life of a human being he calls Kenny, next at the cheater pants' boyfriend who makes a sheet of cardboard look interesting. Cartman reaches into his duffel bag, pulls out the VHS tape, and shoves it into Stan's hands before angrily flinging the bag over his shoulder. The bag knocks into Butters, hitting the young lad square in the face.

"Son of a biscuit!" Butters curses, nursing his injured nose as Cartman rips through the house like a storm.

Five minutes later, all eight of the jury members are gathered in the living room, conversing around the coffee table, most of them still on a rather large high after finding out their favorites made the finals. "Wow. So Tweek and Kyle, huh?" Kenny awes, propping his feet up as he leans back on the sofa, "What a finale."

"Yeah," Wendy agrees, sitting on one of the lounge chairs beside him while Bebe meticulously braids Wendy's hair behind her, "with two very different games. Kyle was more of a ruthless strategizer while Tweek played more of a social, under-the-radar kinda game."

Bebe smiles as she runs her fingers through her bestie's smooth locks, "Both of them are probably surprised they made it this far," she hums, "I remember Week 2, right after he had his coffee withdrawal, Tweek told me he was shocked that he didn't get nominated."

"And I'm shocked Kyle made it past Week 3 after he had that panic attack," Clyde adds from behind the sofa.

"I'm not," Stan laconically boasts, causing Craig to roll his eyes beside him, "Kyle is tough. He doesn't rest until he sees things through. I told you guys if you didn't take him out then, he was going to coast."

Cartman steps into the room, now only appearing slightly pissed as he sticks his sticky hands into a bag of Cheesy Puffs, "So, who's the winner? Kahl, right?" Cartman coos.

Stan nods, grimacing as he watches Cartman shove his hand back into the communal snack, "That's the overall consensus," he states, most of the group giving confident 'yeses' to this claim. Craig turns to Wendy and locks eyes with her; the stoic lightly shakes his head.

"I can agree with that," Kenny chimes, "He won two HOHs, a handful of rewards, had a level head, and was the strategic mastermind. Sounds like a winner to me."

Craig stares up at the ceiling, arms crossed as he sports his boyfriend's lucky olive-green button up, "There's more to a winner than just a resume, Kenny," he huffs.

"Of course you would be quick to jump on the Tweek train, Craig…which is ironic because usually he jumps on yours-"

"No, Craig's right," Wendy jumps in, leaning forward a bit to look Kenny in the eyes, "There's more to this game than just the challenges. A lot of it is just the day-to-day life."

Kenny cocks his forehead, "So you're telling me we should vote based on who's the easiest to live with?" he wonders, already seeing the holes in this logic.

"No, of course not," Wendy answers, "But I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss Tweek. Sure, his game wasn't as flashy as Kyle's, but I can tell you firsthand that it was just as strategic – if not moreso. He was playing everybody in that house – even Kyle, the 'strategic mastermind', and I don't think he ever caught on."

"Psh, yeah right, Wendy!" Cartman sasses, ceasing his face stuffing for a moment to knock his house rival down a peg, "You're acting like Tweek making the finals is some kind of well-deserved accomplishment when it's a fluke at best! He was carried by Craig for the first half of the season, and the only reason why he made it to the finals was because of sheer luck, combined with some carefully crafted cheating."

Craig quickly reaches forward, looking like he is about to punch someone, and snatches the tape from Stan. Craig shoves it into the VHS player before flopping back down on the sofa between Stan and Kenny. "Now let's see what really happened," he snaps, everyone settling in as he presses the play button on the remote.

"Yeah, now yew guys can see where it went wrong!" Cartman cries, huffily sitting beside them.

Craig turns slightly, looking from Cartman to his rival, "Congratulations, Stan. You're no longer the most immature person in the house," he quips, earning a glower from the pair.

The jury members watch the tape, unwavering and focused. Several of the jurors wince when Tweek wets his pants and cringe when he vomits, eliminating Kyle in the process.

"Wow. What a way to go," Stan mutters as he watches Kyle flop onto his back in defeat.

"Oh, here we go!" Cartman chimes, leaning forward slightly when a timestamp that reads 'ten hours' flashes on the screen, "This is where things got really cheaty!"

"Yep. It won't be long now," TV Cartman coos at the pathetic, shivering low-life he calls Tweek Tweak as present-day Cartman gazes admirably at his onscreen self, "Any second now, you'll drop, and I'll win my fourth and final HOH. It's a shame things had to end this way, but look at the bright side – at least you'll get to wash the vomit off your shirt before you see your darling, little Craig," he mocks as present-day Craig glares at the screen, "You know, you're lucky I let you get this far, spaz. Don't tell me you honestly believe that you still have a shot," he spits, "We've been here for eight weeks, and you've done squat. You're a joke," he insults, sneering down at Tweek, who is draped over the structure, "You don't even deserve to be in the final three. You know nothing about this game," he scoffs, "You don't even know how to play."

There's a long pause, both in the video and in the jury house. The wind picks up around the final three as Tweek slowly pulls himself up, carrying a fire in his eyes that Craig has never seen before.

Craig Tucker
Mr. Supportive Boyfriend

And that was the moment Cartman should've realized he was fucked.

"Welp. Cartman's done," Craig comments, the corner of his lip pulling up into a proud smile as he watches Tweek find his inner strength onscreen.

"Well, obviously. He's watching this with us right now!" Clyde remarks behind him, his eyes shining at what he thinks is a helpful add-in.

"Shut the fuck up, Marsh," Craig rebukes without a second thought, his eyes still glued to the television.

Stan bemusedly scrunches his forehead, "I didn't even say anything. That was Clyde!"

"Sorry. Force of habit," Craig states, before unpausing the video, everyone still fully immersed in the final HOH competition.

"Week 1," Tweek squeaks, his voice cracked and distant.

"What?" onscreen Cartman sneers, "Are you calling yourself a name?" he ridicules.

Tweek pants slightly and collects himself as the rain begins pelting down on him, soaking every inch of his body. He looks back up at Cartman and finds his voice once more, his gaze piercing into his greatest in-game oppressor, "Week 1, I gathered three votes to save Craig, one of which was yours, by tricking you into thinking that Kenny was out to get you. Week 2, I influenced Craig to throw Butters under the bus because he was throwing my name around as a potential target, so that you would vote to evict him and I could secure my place as Wendy and Bebe's number one without getting any blood on my hands or severing any of my bonds."

"Wait, what?" Bebe squeaks, exchanging glances with a few of her fellow jury members, all of whom look as shocked as her. "Did you know this?" she asks her bestie. Wendy shakes her head as Bebe slowly turns back to the screen, a bewildered look spread across her face, "Huh." They look to Butters, who is sitting on the carpet in front of Kenny, to gauge his response, but his expression is covered up by the giant ice pack that he has pressed to his nose.

"Weeks 2 and 4," onscreen Tweek continues, "I made two ties happen just so you and Kyle would be forced to show your cards and expose your gameplay at Butters' and Clyde's evictions. Weeks 6 and 7, I tricked Kyle into keeping me…twice, through simple yet effective psychological tactics. I formed an alliance with the girls. I used my own boyfriend as a meat shield to keep me here."

"Yeah, I always kinda figured he was doing that," Craig chimes, answering the question all the jury members are seemingly shooting his way as Tweek's voice gradually rises.

"I didn't win those HOH competitions because I didn't want to win those HOH competitions, because I knew if I didn't keep up this weak, defenseless persona, that you would target me. Week 1, I purposely twitched out, Week 2, I withdrew from the talent show, Week 3, I told a gruesomely horrible joke, Week 4, I jumped off the ledge prematurely, Week 5, I eliminated myself after a very-real panic attack – I could've stayed through it, but Craig convinced me to opt out to take care of myself," Tweek adds, "Week 6, I purposely slipped, and last week, Week 7, I threw the puzzle. It was all strategy. Each week, I kept telling myself: 'They're going to catch on eventually because no one can be this bad at the competitions,' but you guys never did," he speaks, his tone strong and husky, "I didn't need to win to save myself; I got here on my own. I got here because of my strong social and strategic gameplay. I got here because of the bonds I built with others. I got here because of me, and that's more than either one of you can say!" Tweek shouts, gesturing back and forth between TV Cartman and Kyle, "So don't you dare try to tell me that I don't know how to play this game," he growls, completing his figurative mic drop.

The house is absolutely silent, the jury stunned to speechless by Tweek's bombshell of a confession. Finally, after what feels like hours but was in actuality only three minutes, Clyde opens his mouth to speak, like a fish gasping for water, "Ah, there he is…there's Tweek," he smiles.

Bebe peers over at Wendy, who is the only one who doesn't look like they've been paralyzed by the truth. "You don't look surprised," she states.

"That's because I'm not," Wendy replies, crossing her arms as she casually leans back in her seat, "He told me fifteen minutes before I left the house that he was throwing the comps."

"What?!" Stan cries, snapping his head around at this remark, "And you didn't rat him out?"

Wendy smiles, gently shaking her head as she turns back to the TV, "No. This season deserves a great winner," she beams.

Stan shrugs and turns back around. Beside him, Craig is gazing lovingly at his boyfriend. Even though Tweek is covered in a mix of piss and vomit, Craig finds him and his fearless confidence positively irresistible. "Oh my God, he is so fuckin' hot. I love him so much!" Craig gushes, not caring who hears him.

Five minutes later, after experiencing all of the highs and lows with Tweek during his final HOH win, the jury is dead silent as the screen fades to black in front of them. "Well," Craig states, stretching his arms as he shuts off the television, still riding the ecstatic high of Tweek's adorable victory lap, "I hate to be an ass, but I told you so," he says, giving a hearty exhale as Stan raises a dubious eyebrow beside him, "I'm just kidding; I don't hate being an ass," he smirks.

"Holy shit…" Kenny coos, blinking twice, still unable to believe what he just saw – he and several of the other jury members starting to see Tweek in a whole new light.

"See? What did I tell you?" Cartman snaps, pointing at the TV screen, "It's all a bunch of bullshit!"

…

Clyde Donovan
Surprisingly Insightful Chonky Boi

You know, I shouldn't be surprised that Tweek did this. This is the exact strategy he uses to beat us every time we play Mario Kart. He takes it easy for the first two laps and just waits until Craig and I get into a fight and start wrestling on the ground, then he passes us up on the track. Damn, he's good. (snaps) We really should've seen this coming.

…

Stan Marsh
Flabbergasted Fart

Wait, so you mean to tell me that that guy was running the show this season? The guy who almost ran out of the house screaming the first five minutes we were in there and only didn't because his boyfriend held him back? Hot damn, Tweek! I never thought you had it in you. But I guess he must have a pretty high tolerance level considering he has to deal with the biggest jerk in South Park every day. (flashes a shit-eating grin)

…

Later that night, Stan is scouring the kitchen, looking for any remnants of snack food after Clyde tore through the room like a runaway freight train. Stan sighs as he pulls a single peanut out of an off-orange, discarded snack bag. He somberly takes it into the dining area and starts nibbling at it while he plops down in the seat across from the fatass. Cartman raises an eyebrow as he watches Stan lick his fingers clean. "I swear you're only getting weirder over the years, Stan," he mutters, pretending to read the newspaper that is spread upside down and flat in front of him, "I still can't believe yew guys didn't throw me a party."

"Dude, we didn't know you were coming," Stan says, wiping his dusty fingers on his pants.

Cartman cocks his forehead, "Oh, I get it. So you would've thrown one to celebrate my success?"

"Um...sure. Let's just go with that," Stan answers, habitually tapping his fingers against his kneecaps. He smiles and snaps his fingers, a thought popping into his brain like a Shakey's Pizza ad, "Oh, dude," Stan begins, slapping his palm playfully on the table, "I've been meaning to ask you: what's up with Kyle? Is he doing alright?" he wonders, smacking his lips together while he attempts to loosen some of the crumbs between his teeth.

"Is he ever doing alright?' Cartman counters, barely lifting his head up.

Stan sighs, "Well, we got a message last week that someone was trying to pull him from the game. I guess Dee or somebody was concerned about his deteriorating mental health," he explains, noticing that Cartman looks lost, "You mean, you guys didn't see the plane?"

"No," Cartman grunts, locking eyes with his supposed leader, "When the fuck was this?"

Stan crunches his forehead, completely oblivious to the fact that Kenny has just entered around the corner. Seeing them, Kenny stops and ducks behind the wall, "I think it was the day after Kenny and Craig came to see you guys," he recalls.

"Oh…no. That was a weird day," Cartman comments, grimacing a little at the memory of it, "Kahl was being an ungrateful little bitch, and Token had us on lockdown for no reason!"

Stan nods, "Well, now you know the reason. It's cause Dee was trying to rescue him," he mocks, unable to resist giving an eye roll, "Thank God he didn't see it, or else he'd be running right back to her," he ridicules, still miffed at the thought as he picks his nails.

"Please!" Cartman huffs, complete with an eye roll of his own, "Like he's that serious about her. He'll have a new girl in a year! Everyone knows no one can handle that package. He goes through love interests like a box of Tic Tacs!" he criticizes. Kenny glares daggers at him from across the room.

…

Kenny McCormick
Kyle's Best Bro

Kyle and Cartman have a complicated relationship. Kyle is a sweet, beautiful, majestic human being, and Cartman is that gunk that you scrape off your teeth after you vomit. I would elaborate, but honestly, I think it's pretty self-explanatory. (nods) But yeah, I'm not sure why everyone in our group wants to get into Kyle's pants so bad, I mean, what is in there that is so irresistible? Is it his magical ass?

…

Stan Marsh
Smarter Than We Give Him Credit For

It's been an interesting morning to say the least. I was going to spend my last several hours here freaking out about seeing Kyle again, but then something much more pressing caught my attention. You see, Craig is gone, and no one seems to know where he went. He's disappeared for about three hours now. I told Token about it, but he didn't seem that concerned, so something is definitely up in the Big Brother jury house.

…

A few hours before the jury is scheduled to leave the house for the final voting ceremony, Stan is sitting on the living room sofa, a bit rugged, and trying his best to aid his morning blues with a Red Bull. Stan yawns and groggily blinks twice as Craig appears from out of nowhere and plops down on the sofa in exhaustion. "Hey, where have you been?" Stan asks, waking up slightly at his rival's presence.

"Mars," Craig snaps, rolling his eyes while he throws his arm up and gestures ambiguously across the room, "Where the hell do you think?"

"I think you left the house for some reason," Stan smirks, taking another sip of his drink.

Craig frowns, barely lifting his eyebrow at the accusation, "And I think you're delusional," he quips.

Craig Tucker
Harry Houdini/Exhilarated Tweeksexual

I'm ecstatic that this is our last day here because that means I get to go home tonight and see Stripe and make love to my boyfriend and try to forget this whole thing ever happened…except for the Tweek parts. (beams)

…

An hour later, the entire jury is gathered in the living room, delightfully dressed and ready to confront the finalists. Wendy smiles as Bebe finishes applying her third coat of pink nail polish, which matches the raven's magenta sundress quite nicely. "Man, I can't believe in one hour, Kyle's going to be five hundred thousand dollars richer," Stan comments, sitting next to Kenny, who is wearing a nice, sparkly orange parka.

Across from them, Craig raises an eyebrow, "You mean Tweek," he corrects, the stoic uncharacteristically dressed like he's going to a five-star restaurant.

"No, I mean Kyle, and why the fuck are you dressed in a tux?"

"It's called style, Stan. It's something you don't have - especially since you and Kyle broke up," Craig quips, turning away slightly to hide his monstrous grin; Stan growls.

"I agree with Stan," Kenny artfully butts in before a fight can break out between the two seething males, "Kyle is a deserving winner. If he did this well while he was emotionally vulnerable, just imagine how well he could've done if he was stable."

"Yeah," Stan snorts, his arms crossed as he shoots Craig another glare, "If Kyle was at 100%, he would've killed this game."

"But we shouldn't base our votes on what he could've done," Wendy interjects, frowning at Stan's lack of dimension, "We should base them on what he actually did. I was there, Stan. Kyle was not the one calling the shots. One of those people came to the jury house last night and the other is sitting right next to Kyle in the finals."

Cartman nods, the fatass leaning up against the wall behind her, "True dat," he grunts.

"But even so, I have to admit, Kyle's ability to play both sides was impressive," Bebe adds, throwing her two cents into the ring, "He managed to keep his target small in integral parts of the game."

"-At least until he burned half the house," Wendy mutters beside her.

"True," Bebe nods, "but the maneuver itself required skill, and that has to count for something. And his middle game was some of the best I've ever seen," she adamantly praises.

"But let's not forget the fact that Tweek was on the block twice and never received a single vote," Clyde chimes, standing up for his bro as he sports his sequin-covered purple tux, "That dude really knew how to minimize his threat level."

Cartman squints his eyes, finding Clyde's outfit blinding, "-And how to be Craig's game puppet," he sasses, earning a glare from Craig in response.

"I wasn't his master, fatass. He made all these moves on his own," Craig retorts, quick to defend Tweek's honor and more on edge than usual, "He dominated this entire season, and anyone with half a brain cell who saw that tape would agree with me."

"Tweek absolutely dominated, and he did it with heart," Wendy adds, tucking a stray strand of her raven locks behind her ear, "and in a game that's full of deception, that's incredibly difficult to pull off," she states, Clyde nodding behind her.

"Maybe...but I'm not sure how I feel about the whole 'throwing challenges' thing," Stan admits, his tone as uneasy as his facial expression, "Personally, I think it's a bit of a cop-out."

"I don't," Craig replies, rubbing his neck a bit as he sweats against the wall, "I think it's a legitimate strategy. It's refreshing, next-level gameplay that we haven't seen too much this season. And after his last HOH performance, I don't think anyone can say that Tweek wasn't playing to win."

"Well, no matter what happens tonight, I think they both deserve this. I think they both deserve to be in the finals," Bebe says, hoping to find some common ground, although her attempt is sounding more rehearsed than comforting, "I'm really interested in hearing what they have to say, especially about their gameplay, and I'm super excited to get this whole thing started."

"Me too," Stan chimes, flashing a small smile for the first time this entire debate, "It sounds like it's going to be close. I mean, I think we all know where we stand at this point, but there's definitely a few of us who are still undecided."

"Oh yeah," Cartman huffs, rolling his eyes at Stan's blatant exaggeration, "Like who?"

All at once, everyone looks to Butters, who is anxiously tapping his knuckles together as he gazes down at the carpet, listening to their every word. Feeling seven sets of eyes boring into him, Butters squeaks and jumps in place. "Butters…you're the key," Stan awes, wondering why this fact hadn't struck him sooner, "You're the key vote!"

"Awww…I'm the key?" Butters cries, tapping the sleeves together of his sky-blue Hello Kitty sweater, "Could I not be the key? I don't wanna be the key vote!"

Butters Stotch
Adorable Blonde/"The Key"

Oh no. You're not getting a word out of me! Not until the finale. (smiles and winks)

"Hey, guys?" Kenny calls out, counting to himself as he glimpses around him. Kenny smiles, hoping to take the heat off Butters before he breaks under the pressure, the tension in the room so thick, it rivals Cartman.

Stan turns his head after exchanging a few curious glances with the group, "Yeah?"

"What happens if it's a tie?"

Chapter Text

"Hello, everyone. I'm Token Black, and welcome to the finale of Big Brother," Token speaks, the host dressed in a blinding gold-trimmed sparkle tux as he steps forward and talks directly to the camera, "Over these last eight weeks, we've watched ten people go through the joys and the hardships of living in a house full of their peers cut off from the outside world as they all fought to win the five hundred-thousand-dollar prize. And now we're down to just two: twenty-two-year-old Kyle Broflovski, a former Ivy-league student, and twenty-two-year-old Tweek Tweak, a college graduate and coffee enthusiast," Token explains, clasping his heads together as the final two's Big Brother headshots appear on the television beside him, "Tonight, one of them will be crowned the first-ever winner of Big Brother. And it's up to a jury of eight of their friends and peers to decide who deserves that honor. But before we get started, let's take a closer look at how the two of them got to this moment, starting with everyone's favorite redhaired know-it-all…" Token gives a professional smile and turns towards the TV, cueing the video montage.

An image of Kyle appears onscreen with the words "casting interview" stamped in the bottom right-hand corner. "Hey, I'm Kyle. I just turned twenty-two, and I am dead inside," Kyle states, a glassy look in his eyes.

"How will you win the $500,000?" Token's voice chimes off-screen.

Kyle blinks twice, barely thinking this question over, "Um…I don't know. Pray that it just works out?"

The screen flashes to the houseguests' first week in the Big Brother house. Kyle is sitting on the floor of the storage closet, gripping his ex-girlfriend, Dee's, necklace in his palm like his life depends on it. Stan sits beside him, deep in thought.

"We're going to get there, you know, and we're going to get there together," Stan promises, gazing into his lost eyes, "I'll drag you there if you can't make it on your own, dude. You know I'll never leave you behind."

"I know, Stan," Kyle assures him, sniffing as he somberly leans his head against his shoulder.

"Well, Stan," Kyle huffs, the redhead propped up against the living room wall during Stan's Week 3 double betrayal. Kyle sighs as he pushes himself off and takes a step over to him, "I don't know why I'm so surprised cause apparently we're not even together according to you. You told Token I was your longest past relationship yesterday. What? Are you embarrassed of me? Do you think I'm not good enough to date the astounding Stan Marsh?" he spits, venom in his voice.

Stan's face softens as he turns to him, "Kyle-"

"You know what? Don't try to humor me, Stan," Kyle states, holding his hand up to stop him, "I see the writing on the wall. You think I'm too much of a train wreck to handle any kind of relationship with you. That's it, isn't it? Isn't it?"

"No," Stan quickly answers, completely oblivious to the fact that the entire house – minus Wendy and Bebe – are watching this scene unfold, "And if you just stopped and listened to me for five seconds, I would be able to explain it to you."

"Save it. I don't want to hear any more lies from you! I'm done getting hurt, and I'm done with you!" Kyle declares, pacing away from Stan slightly. He turns back around and glares up at him, "And you want to know what the worst part is? You knew it. You knew it all. You knew how much I was hurting and you still did it anyway!" Kyle cries, tears flooding his eyes, "Fuck you, Stan!" he shouts, storming away from him.

The screen flashes to Week 3 eviction day, where Cartman is comforting his greatest enemy, "Kahl, I meant what I said last week; I really think my plan is a good one. But if you want to do this, you gotta get your head in the game, cause I'm not going forward with someone who's not all in on getting to the end with me."

Kyle sniffs from his mattress, bewildered as he slowly pulls himself up. He wipes his nose on the back of his hand and looks to Cartman, "Did you just quote High School Musical?" he asks.

"Kiel, seriously?" Cartman squeaks, staring at Kyle like he's a dumbass, "We could be unstoppable. We could run the whole house without anyone ever knowing…"

"Hi, everyone," Kyle begins with a heavy sigh, finding it hard to push the words out. He turns to the crowd of houseguests as he sits on one of the lush lounge chairs next to Stan at the Week 3 eviction ceremony, "I know this week has been absolute hell for most of you – myself included, but in great adversity, one finds their strength, and I would really like to stay here with all of you and continue moving forward," Kyle reveals, locking eyes with Cartman on the sofa, hoping that this statement tells him all he needs to know, "Thank you."

"And with that, Kyle and Douchebag have won this week's HOH competition!" Token announces, throwing his arms up during the Week 4 HOH competition, no one looking more surprised by this news than the winners themselves as Cartman smiles discreetly from the sidelines, "Come here and get your HOH key, Broflovski! Along with this extra one!" Token adds, holding up the key that unlocks the handcuffs as well.

"Whoo!" Kyle cheers as both himself and Douchebag cannonball into the swimming pool, smiling when they hit the water.

"I just think you need to focus on yourself for a while and what you want. Bebe's right, this opportunity is once in a lifetime, so don't worry about us. Just have fun with it. Have an adventure, Kyle. You deserve it," Douchebag smiles as she stands beside the front door, moments away from exiting the Big Brother house.

"Okay," Kyle replies, having a hard time choking out a response through the newest onslaught of tears rolling down his cheeks, "But does this mean we're over forever?"

Douchebag leans forward and gently pats Kyle once on the shoulder, her gaze intense and heartfelt, "You got that letter I wrote you?" Kyle sniffs and nods, pulling the letter out of his jacket pocket, "Good. Keep it with you. It tells you exactly how I feel about you. But please, don't open it until you truly feel like you're ready for it."

Kyle nods and sniffles once more, wiping his snotty nose on his hand, "Alright. I promise."

"So…yeah…that's it," Wendy trails off, standing in front of Kyle's HOH room door that night after a crazy Week 4, too embarrassed to make eye contact. The moon is shining through the window and is splattered on the floor like Clyde's eleventh grade art project, "Goodnight."

"Yeah…goodnight," Kyle says back, his face frowning at the shortness of their conversation. Kyle scrunches his forehead as he turns back towards the door, wondering where this unanticipated wave of disappointment is coming from.

Wendy turns around and heads towards the kitchen. She stops in her tracks and stands up straight, her eyes widening as a strange bolt of courage jolts through her body.

"Aw, what the hell," Wendy states, before turning back around and racing towards him. Wendy stops in front of a puzzled Kyle, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest as she leans forward, grabs him tenderly by the sides of his face, and passionately kisses him.

After a moment, the pair pull away, both Wendy and Kyle equally stunned as they stare into each other's eyes, the latter blushing furiously. Nearby, Craig is standing in the shadows, slowly backing his way into the diary room in shock after witnessing yet another heated exchange between Kyle and one of the houseguests.

"You and me," Cartman dramatically voices over as the screen shows Clyde, Craig, and Bebe all leaving the house back-to-back, "We control who's going home every single week."

"So, you had to follow Cartman, huh?" Wendy cries, fire blazing through her veins after Kyle announced his Week 6 nominations, "Do you really think that fatass is going to look out for you? Cause you and I both know that Cartman only cares about himself!" Wendy turns towards him. Kyle opens his mouth, about to speak, but Wendy cuts him off again and throws her palms up, "That's it! I'm done! We're done, Kyle! You've made your decision. Have fun being Cartman's bitch!"

Kyle sighs, trying his best to calm her down through gentle tone and logical reasoning, "Wendy-"

"I just can't believe that you would do this!" Wendy continues, angrily pacing the floor, "I can't believe that you would keep a man who disrespects virtually everyone in the house because you want easy money! I thought you were better than that."

Kyle scrunches his forehead, her words igniting a rage inside him that he didn't know was there. "So now I'm supposed to feel bad for trying to win?" he counters, his anger spiraling like a tornado.

Kyle Broflovski
Emotionally Damaged Jew Boy

This game is a constant struggle between your head and your heart, and I don't know how much longer I can keep playing without the latter.

"I want her back," Kyle confesses, looking like he is on the verge of a mental breakdown as he turns to Tweek, the pair sitting side by side on Tweek's makeshift double bed, "I just want her back so bad," he cries, looking like it physically pains him to say these words.

Tweek leans forward and nods, gently patting Kyle on the back before pulling him into a side hug and resting his head on Kyle's shoulder, "I know."

"I just wanna make it to the end, Tweek," Kyle whispers, staring out at the sunrise in the kitchen Week 7, standing next to his main competitor, "I want it more than anything. I don't even care if I win," Kyle whispers, nervously chewing on the bottom of his lip, "I just wanna get there and still be me," he reveals, teardrops budding in the corners of his eyes as he struggles to push these final words out, "and I don't know if I can."

"Wendy," Kyle sighs, so emotionally fatigued at the Week 7 eviction ceremony that he can barely look at her, "I care about you a lot, but I just don't think you and I have a future together, both here or in the game," he confesses. Cartman's jaw drops to the floor at the casualness of Kyle's rejection. He quickly covers his mouth and starts giggling into his hand while Tweek's eyes widen from his lounge chair. Next to him, Wendy looks positively humiliated, "I'm so sorry, Wendy, but I want to win, and in order to do that, I have to let you go. That's why tonight, I vote to evict you," he states, stone-faced and cold, delivering this news like the final twist of a knife.

The clip jumps forward a minute. Wendy slowly stands up from her seat, passing by Kyle, who is desperately trying to catch her eyeline.

Wendy stops beside her betrayer, shooting him a piercing glare that would cause most people to run home crying to their mothers. "I trusted you twice in this game, and each time you let me down," Wendy snarls, hoping to make Kyle feel as humiliated as she does, "Congratulations, Kyle. You're now the new King of Darkness, and all it cost you was your soul," she spits.

"Well, I tried my best, but I could see all the signs. It was all crystal clear," Kyle voices over as Tweek celebrates his HOH victory onscreen by racing around the Big Brother backyard, "There's just no way Tweek's going to keep me. If he keeps me, he's giving away $450,000, and I know my wellbeing is not worth giving that up."

The scene flashes to Kyle sitting beside Cartman during the final eviction ceremony of the season. Kyle is death gripping Dee's necklace in his palm as Tweek stands before them, revealing his decision while he sports his Wonder Tweek sweatshirt, "I vote to evict Eric Cartman," he beams.

"WHAT?!" Cartman blares.

Kyle keels over in his seat, still shaking from his news of making the finals. His hands are cupped securely over his mouth while he starts weeping into the carpet. "Oh my God, oh my God…" Kyle trembles, his knees shaking like a power drill, the redhead still in utter disbelief that this just happened.

Token smiles as the camera moves away from the TV screen and centers back on the star of the show. He clasps his hands together, "Wow. What an emotional rollercoaster. But tell me, what would a season of Big Brother be without a good underdog story?" he questions, turning as the second highlight reel starts playing on the TV.

An image of Tweek appears onscreen with the words "casting interview" stamped in the bottom right-hand corner. Tweek is twitching uncontrollably on the sofa and can't seem to stay focused.

"Tweek. Tweek?" Token states, Tweek ignores him and keeps looking around the room, "TWEEK!" Token yells, causing the blonde to yelp and duck down on the carpet in the classic tornado safety drill position, tangling his fingers in his messy, blonde locks. "Tweek, get up. I have to ask you a question."

"Oh," Tweek squeaks, gingerly lifting his head up and slowly but surely pulling himself back up on the red sofa. "Okay, shoot. Oh Jesus! Don't actually shoot! Oh God! Now you're going to kill me!" Tweek shrieks, pulling his hair once again.

Token sighs, "Tweek, no one's going to kill you, okay? I just wanted to know how you'll win the $500,000."

"Oh," Tweek sighs, his heart rate gradually returning back to normal, "That's easy. I won't," he states, his answer honest and heartbreaking, "I'm going to help Craig win," he adds with a nod.

The screen flashes to a scene that takes place five minutes after all ten of the houseguests have officially entered the Big Brother house. Tweek is standing in the living room with the others, shaking uncontrollably as he holds Craig's hand. Craig turns to him and smiles, giving Tweek a tender, reassuring squeeze.

Later that week, following the Week 1 nominations, Craig and Tweek are sitting side by side in the storage closet. Craig gives a somber smile and scoots closer to his boyfriend, wrapping an arm around the timid blonde. "Look, we both know that Stan's group with potentially Wendy and Butters are probably voting for me, so this doesn't look good."

"Craig! Why would you say that to me?" Tweek squeaks.

"I just want you to be prepared in case things don't work out the way you want them to," Craig explains. The pair mulls in dampened silence, neither one of them knowing quite what to say.

"You know, I noticed something," Tweek speaks up, "The girls don't seem to like Kenny too much…maybe there's still a way to save you. And if there is a way, I'll make sure it happens, tiger," Tweek smiles, patting Craig twice on the knee lovingly. He stands up and throws open the doorway, the determination in Tweek's actions shocking Craig to his core.

The screen flashes to never-before-seen footage of Tweek standing in front of Wendy and Bebe in the HOH room, the besties sitting on Bebe's grand mattress. "I want to make a deal," Tweek states, his voice surprisingly resolute, "If we can save Craig, I'll join you, and we'll work together 'til the end. There are only two conditions: I won't vote for Craig, and if I'm put on the block with him, I want you guys to vote based on what the two of us decide."

Wendy looks to Bebe, the duo exchanging intriguing glances with each other before turning back to the twitchy blonde. Wendy reaches her hand out, her eyes shining from the ceiling lights, "Okay. Deal."

Tweek grins, reaches forward, and shakes her hand.

"By a vote of 4-3, the first person to be banished from the Big Brother house is…Kenny," Token announces, "Kenny, I'll give you five minutes to say your goodbyes, then you have to leave the house."

Kenny springs up out of his seat and smiles, grabbing his crutches, "No problem, I can do it in three!" he chimes, racing over to his best buddies. Next to him, Tweek is heaving a sigh of relief while Wendy is doing her best to hold back a smile.

One week later, Tweek is in the storage room, unpacking the newest bag of groceries that were delivered to the house when he sees two shadows appear from the other side of the closed door.

"Well, if you ask me, I say Tweek's the most dangerous one here," a voice that sounds like Butters rings out from the hallway, Tweek's ears burning when he hears his name. He carefully sets down the box of Lucky Charms on the shelf and tiptoes closer to the doorway.

"Why?" someone that sounds like Kyle wonders.

There's a sigh. "He'll lie to your face, then sell you down the river with a smile."

Tweek leans back from the door, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he thinks over what exactly he is going to do with this information.

"Are you sure you're okay, Craig?" Tweek asks, stepping into the girls room an hour after the Week 2 talent show disaster.

"I'm fine, babe," Craig replies, sitting on their makeshift double bed, his newly injured leg resting comfortably on a stack of pillows, "I'm just happy you're still alive. Now come here, I want to hold you," Craig nearly whines, reaching his arms out towards his boyfriend.

Tweek smiles and carefully sits down next to Craig, wrapping his arms around him. Tweek sighs as he feels Craig eagerly reciprocating the gesture. "It's kinda crazy, you know?" Tweek speaks into the silence, "Butters almost killed us, and he gets off scot-free."

"Yeah, right," Craig scoffs, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, "He is not getting off scot-free."

Tweek shrugs, flashing Craig a clueless look, "If you say so." Tweek turns to the side, suppressing a smile as he eyes Craig's scrupulous expression, his face so palpable Tweek can practically see the gears turning in Craig's brain.

Suddenly, Craig pushes himself up from the mattress, the impact causing Tweek to bounce up slightly. "Where are you going?" Tweek asks, though he's pretty sure he already knows the answer.

"Nowhere, babe," Craig assures him, delicately lifting his leg up off the pillows, "I just have to go talk to Cartman."

Three weeks later, Craig and Tweek are sitting side by side in the hallway, following one of the toughest weeks of their lives. The pair lie still as a heavy silence washes over them, the atmosphere so tense that Tweek feels like he is going to choke. Tweek sniffs and wipes a few tears away with his fingers, "Come on Craig," he states solemnly to the floor, the blonde's voice barely above a whisper, "we both knew going into this that I never had a chance at the money."

Craig tilts his head, puzzled, "Why not?"

"Because my dad was right, okay?" Tweek cries, the heat rising up in his chest at this outburst, "I can't win this thing. I don't even deserve to be a part of the group. I'm not super tough like you or super smart like Token or super charming like Clyde or super funny like Jimmy. All I am is your boyfriend. Your freakish, twitchy boyfriend," Tweek sighs, "And that kind of person doesn't win this thing."

"First off, let me make this perfectly clear: your dad has never been right about anything," Craig retorts, quickly jumping in to dispute his claims, "And come on Tweek, you and I both know that you are so much more than that," he states, giving his boyfriend a comforting shoulder rub as Tweek stares at the floor, "And so what if you're not the best at any of those things? Because let me tell you, babe, none of us – myself included – would have a chance at winning this thing. We're too one-dimensional…but you? You have a little bit of everything. And that's why no one else is even going to have a shot."

Tweek sniffs, tearing up as he locks eyes with his love, "You can't possibly believe that," he squeaks.

"I do," Craig nods, looking like he's never been surer of something in his life while Tweek leans forward and hugs his knees to his chest, "And maybe someday, you will too."

The next day, after Craig's eviction is officially announced, the couple sighs as they reach the front door, Craig briefly letting go of Tweek's hand on the way to grab his duffel bag. Tweek watches through cloudy eyes as Craig swings the strap around his shoulder. Tweek cries at the doorway, so distraught that he is barely able to get a sentence out as he turns to face his love, "I-I don't understand, I told them to vote for me."

"I know," Craig replies, placing two comforting hands on his shoulders as he gazes into Tweek's eyes, "And I told them this afternoon to switch back, five minutes before Token called us in here," he reveals with a sigh, "You had the votes to protect yourself, but you tried to save me," he gushes, the noirette visibly touched, "I love you so much, babe, and that's why I have to do this for you," Craig states, holding back tears himself, speaking with a vulnerability only reserved for Tweek, "I hope someday you can forgive me, but you've worked too hard to give this all up for me. We told ourselves coming into this that we were going to try our best to make sure that one of us makes it to the end. I know when we made this promise, you thought that it would be me, but I knew on day one that I would have to eventually step aside, so you could win this for yourself. You are so strong, Tweek," Craig says definitively, "And now you're going to prove it."

"I want them to think I'm down. I want them to think that I've given up…cause then they'll get careless and they'll underestimate me…and they'll keep me around. And that's when I'll get them. That's when I'll strike and pull the rug out from under everybody," Tweek voices over as the screen shows a montage of him purposely throwing the Week 6 HOH competition, by tripping on the treadmill, and the Week 7 HOH competition, by making a wrong move on the puzzle and retreating from Cartman on the life-sized chessboard.

Twelve minutes before the Week 7 eviction ceremony, Tweek is sitting somberly on the floor of the storage room next to his biggest in-game ally, Wendy Testaburger. Tweek nods as a heavy wave of guilt comes crashing down on him. He swallows, on the verge of tears as he feels the truth crawling up the back of his throat, itching to be heard. "I missed you too," Tweek pauses, the guilt now burrowing into his stomach. He turns to the blank wall across from him and takes a deep, calming breath, "Wendy, there's something you should know," he squeaks, trying to squash the unbearable guilt with his hand as he starts twitching uncontrollably.

Wendy cocks her eyebrow, already sensing the seriousness of this discussion. "Okay," she breathes, "What?"

"I'm not how I appear," Tweek speaks, his voice cracking as he trudges through this weighted confession, "Those HOH competitions…I threw every single one."

"Wha-? I don't understand, why would you do that?" Wendy wonders, stupefied by this reveal.

"Because I had to play into what they thought I was, otherwise they would've taken me out," Tweek swallows, finding it difficult to deliver these words, "You saw what Kyman did to Craig and Bebe. I didn't want to be just another casualty in their path to victory. I have to do this, Wendy. I have to beat them. This means more to me than almost anything in the world," Tweek states, tears forming in his eyes, his tone as dire as the mess they find themselves in.

Wendy sighs, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders, "So I've been a fool this whole time?"

"No," Tweek replies, jumping on this before she can spiral into despair, "You are not a fool, Wendy. Everything said to you, all the hardships we've endured together, and the friendship we made was real. You are one of the strongest people I have ever met, no matter what happens tonight. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Wendy nods, the raven tearing up at the sincerity emanating off her alliance partner. She sniffles as she gently pulls him into a hug, "Thank you, Tweek," she whispers into his shoulder, "You're a true friend…even though you screwed me," she quips, before pulling back from the hug and staring into his eyes, "But if I get evicted tonight and you don't win that money, I will never forgive you," she jokes, a small simper shining on her face.

One week later, at the infamous final HOH competition, Tweek reveals his gameplay to the world, "It was all strategy. Each week, I kept telling myself: 'They're going to catch on eventually because no one can be this bad at the competitions,' but you guys never did," he speaks, his tone strong and husky, reflecting the determination he feels in his core, "I didn't need to win to save myself; I got here on my own. I got here because of my strong social and strategic gameplay. I got here because of the bonds I built with others. I got here because of me, and that's more than either one of you can say!" Tweek shouts, gesturing back and forth between Cartman and Kyle, "So don't you dare try to tell me that I don't know how to play this game," he growls, completing his figurative mic drop.

The backyard is void of human noises once Tweek drops this bombshell, the trio staring at the blonde with mouths agape. Even Cartman himself is choked out of words to say.

Finally, after what seems like hours but in actuality is only three minutes, Cartman squeaks out a response through his flabbergasted expression, "What?"

Kyle stands up, equally stunned as he gawks nearby, his jaw practically on the floor, "Holy shit, dude."

"Yeah…" Token adds next to him with a nod, before halting slightly, "Wait, why am I surprised? I already knew most of this!"

Tweek looks to Cartman, his stern gaze not leaving the fatass since he started his confession, "I did it, Cartman. I did it all," he whispers, trying to hold back a smirk as his volume slowly rises, his confidence unwavering as he speaks into the wind, "You said I was weak; you said I was useless, but I've been playing since day one, and you never even knew it. I outplayed Bebe, I outwit Kyle, and now I'm going to outlast you, because I'm the stronger player. I've always been the stronger player, and everyone on that jury now knows it!" Tweek exclaims, using his free hand to gesture to the camera, "And that's how this story is going to end…with me beating you – the biggest bully in Big Brother history – in the midst of a thunderstorm after out-deceiving you the whole game!" he cries, finding this confession extremely cathartic, a boost of energy channeling through him upon its conclusion. Tweek shakes his head softly, "You should've taken me out when you had the chance," he scolds him through a smile, "because now, I'm never letting go."

The scene transitions ahead to about ten and a half hours into the competition when Cartman takes his hand off the structure, due to a certain beloved homosexual's stray pants falling off the roof. "You let go of the key," Tweek repeats, absolutely dumbfounded by what just occurred, "that means I win. I won the challenge. I'm the new HOH!" Tweek shrieks, getting more ecstatic as he says this, no one more shocked by this victory than him, "I did it. I actually did it. I'm in the finals. – WHOO!" he cheers, turning to the side to get a confirmative nod from the host. Upon completion, Tweek sets his key down on the box and bounces in celebration while Kyle stands up to join his former ally, "Yes! Take that, Dad! Carried by Craig, my ass!" he shouts with vigor, throwing his arm down at the dirt.

Cartman and Kyle stand there speechless as Tweek walks over and takes the key from a baffled Cartman. They watch as Tweek bolts across the lawn and grabs Craig's pants, hugging them in joyful triumph.

"Um, what the hell just happened?" a mystified Cartman wonders, asking the question that everyone there is thinking.

Kyle exhales, anxiously tapping his biceps with his fingers as he stands beside Cartman, arms folded, "Well, we just got outplayed by the guy who covered himself in coffee Week 2 and is now hugging his boyfriend's barbecued skinny jeans."

"I love you, Craig's pants!" Tweek chimes, smothering his face into the back pockets like a pillow.

Token laughs as the camera pans back out and centers on his smiling face, "Ah yes, Craig's pants. Perhaps the real MVP of this season…? And special thanks to Jimmy for trying to supercut two months' worth of footage for these two excellent competitors," he chimes, before clearing his throat, "Now that we know their journeys, I hope you all enjoy Kyle and Tweek's last day in the Big Brother house…"

…

Tweek Tweak
Deserving Finalist/House Hero

Two hours ago, I evicted the biggest bully Big Brother has ever seen. I know to some people that may seem like a stupid decision. But honestly, if I took Cartman to the end with me, I never would've been able to live with myself. And to me, being able to live with my choices is worth way more than an extra $450,000.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Mentally Checked In Finalist

I did it! I made it to the final two. I'm so deliriously happy, I almost can't believe it.

…

Later that night, long after the pizza party celebrating Cartman's departure has concluded, Kyle is standing near the kitchen island, watching Tweek cautiously pull a cake out of the oven with Butters' puppy oven mitts. "Ta-dah!" Tweek sings as he sets the circular, silver cakepan onto the counter with a smile.

"Damn…" Kyle coos, taking a step closer to admire Tweek's efforts, "That's a nice-looking cake."

"I know, right?" Tweek chimes, leaning against the counter as he picks up the rest of his half-eaten banana and takes a hearty bite.

Tweek Tweak
Cartman Annihilator/Baking Wizard

I didn't bake a lot this season because I didn't want to end up being the house chef or having to give Cartman any of my food, so sometimes I would just sneak into the kitchen at four in the morning and bake stuff while I danced around the living room. It was really fun, but one time Craig caught me, and I had to bribe him with a croissant.

…

That night, Kyle and Tweek are sitting side-by-side on the trampoline, basking in the breathtaking view of the stars. Kyle turns to his fellow finalist, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes, "Hey, Tweek? Do you ever think about what you're going to do after this?"

Tweek shrugs, still mesmerized by the sky, "I don't know. A little. Probably just grow old with Craig. At least, that's the plan," Tweek replies, giving a small nose laugh.

Kyle nods and stares down at the trampoline's surface, this confession hitting him harder than he would care to admit, "Oh…yeah," he states, awkwardly picking at the rubbery material.

Sensing the cloud of tension culminating around them, Tweek cocks his forehead and gazes down at the redhead, "Um, everything okay?"

"What?" Kyle squeaks, barely able to pull himself out of his own head as he matches Tweek's eyeline, "Oh, um, yeah. It's just-that's what I want too."

Tweek playfully scrunches his eyebrows, "You want to grow old with Craig?"

Kyle chuckles, "No, no. Of course not. I wouldn't want people to throw rocks at me as I walk down the street," he jokes, his voice cracking slightly. He bites his lip as he stares sheepishly down at the trampoline, "No, I just want to be with-"

"Dee?" Tweek completes, Kyle's face lighting up a bit when he hears her name.

Kyle gives a small smile, "Yeah," he replies, a large silence bathing over the two of them. Kyle sighs as they stare back up at the stars, "You know, I still remember the first thing she said to me the day we started dating. She said, 'Kyle, I like you a lot. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I didn't want Cartman to wreck this for us, cause he's a fuckin' dumbass," Kyle reminisces with a loving sigh, a twinkle in his eye as he gazes up at the Moon, "I knew right then she was the one."

Tweek turns to Kyle and smiles, seeing a sense of raw vulnerability from the redhead that had been missing for most of the game.

"You know, I came into this game thinking that I was finally going to move on, that this experience was going to open my eyes and show me that I don't need her," Kyle speaks humbly into the silence, feeling as though he is on the brink of tears with every word, "But all it did was just make me realize that I'm not over her…not by a long shot. And honestly, I don't really want to be. I love so much about Dee. I think she's sweet, I think she's ambitious, I think she's the most incredible person I've ever met. She's the only person who ever made me want to improve myself to become the kind of partner that she deserves," he states, staring up at the stars with a longing sigh, "I just-God, I just miss her so much," Kyle admits, these final words causing his fortitude to crumble.

Tweek quickly reaches over and wraps his arm around Kyle, pulling him into a hug as the tears softly stream down his face. After a few moments of quiet sobbing, Kyle looks up at Tweek, all out of tears to cry but feeling surprisingly good about the whole thing. The twitchy blonde smiles and thoughtfully pats Kyle on the shoulder, "Maybe you should read that letter now," he whispers encouragingly.

…

Kyle Broflovski
Tenacious Go-get-her

I wasn't going to read Dee's letter until I was 100% sure that I wouldn't burst out crying during it. But if Tweek can evict a cold-blooded murderer to his face with no fear, I can handle whatever Dee has to say to me.

…

Early the next morning, Kyle is standing alone in the boys room in front of his dresser. He sighs as he stares down at the letter that he is cradling in his palm, the delicate handwriting gracing the outside only making him more anxious about the dark secrets that are hiding within. Kyle takes a deep breath and tears it open, ripping his fears off like a band-aid before they paralyze him. Kyle clears his throat before he reads the greeting, flashing a hopeful look to the camera. "Okay. 'Dear Kyle' – that's not bad, that's a typical greeting," Kyle comments, talking to the lens like it's an old friend, "If you are reading this right now, that means I actually grew balls. Not literally, though. At least, I don't think so. Why am I writing this in here? I'm sorry, I'll get back on topic," Kyle reads, biting back a grin at Dee's scatterbrain, "Four years ago, I fell in love with you. That was not a mistake. There are many things I regret in my life, but that is not one of them. Our time together was nothing short of terrific. You were such a great boyfriend. I couldn't have asked for anything better. But alas, I fucked up and did what I always do when I can't handle things – I run. I broke it off with you because I was scared. I never had anything good in my life until we got together, and I didn't want to drag you down with me. But a partnership is a two-way street. I didn't give you much of a choice or an explanation, and I'm sorry. I want to do better. I want to be better. That's why I finally talked to my parents…" Kyle looks up at the camera, his breath hitching in his throat as his jaw drops to the floor, "I know, I know. The world has officially ended, but you were right, I needed closure, so I can finally start living my life."

Kyle pauses and sets down the letter slightly. He plops onto a nearby empty mattress and presses his hand against his forehead, his mind a flurry of emotions. "This is it," he tells the camera, "There's only one paragraph left, and I already feel like I'm going to vomit up my stomach."

Kyle takes another deep breath before diving into Dee's final words, "Kyle, now that my personal monsoon is finally over, I can tell you with 100% confidence that I can be the partner you deserve. I'm done running, but I understand if you don't want me and will accept your decision to cut me off completely if that's what you believe is best for you. I just want you to be happy, and it was clear when I was watching the live feeds, that you are not. Maybe by the time you read this, you will be. And if that's the case, then I am truly happy for you," Kyle reads, pausing slightly to take a breather. He runs his fingers over his forehead, sweating as much as Cartman during gym class, his nerves rapidly rising as he reaches the last few lines.

"I gave you back your engagement ring because I didn't feel as though I was worthy enough to accept it. Maybe someday I will be, but that is a decision we will make together. Win or lose, I will always love you, Kyle," Kyle states, choking these words out as he is hit with a wave of emotion. He tears up, barely able to get through the last line before his vision is blocked up by his teary eyes, "and I will be yours forever if you'll have me. All my Love, Deandra."

At this, Kyle breaks down sobbing, losing the letter somewhere behind the mattress as he kneels on the floor. He cries into his hands, feeling himself fall to pieces, as a mix of joy and relief wraps around him like a blanket. After a few emotion-filled, heavy moments, Kyle sniffs and picks up the letter from underneath the bed. He turns, wiping a few tears off his cheek as he looks at the camera. "Oh my God, she signed her name," Kyle raves as he gazes back down at the source of his happy tears. Kyle smiles and shows the camera the letter, pointing to the loopy, cursive signature gracing the bottom. He endearingly hugs the letter to his chest before staring down at it once more in utter astonishment, "She signed her real name. She's 100% serious. She really wants to be with me," he chimes, physically shaking at the mere thought, the elation building up inside him like a volcano that is about to erupt, "Oh my God, I have my girlfriend back! I'm so happy, I'm going to fuckin' cry."

…

Kyle Broflovski
Five Seconds Away From a Cardiac Explosion

As overjoyed as I am to find out that Dee wants me back, there is a bit of a problem. This letter was written over a month ago (briefly holds it up to the camera) and with my less-than-stellar record in all things romance, she probably moved on already and forgot all about me. I mean, who knows if she's even still interested?

Suddenly, a boisterous noise blares above him; the sound so great, it causes the room to shake. Kyle clutches onto the red sofa cushions, bracing for impact. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" he cries, quickly springing up from his seat and following it, against his better judgment.

"Kyle, no! Get back here!" Token shouts over the loudspeaker.

Kyle races out into the backyard, where Tweek is already standing on the lawn, staring curiously up at the sky. A subtle smile is on the blonde's face. Kyle cautiously steps forward and looks up, a plane soaring above them. Kyle squints as he reads the banner that is tied to its tail. It reads: "Deandra Loves Kyle." Kyle blinks twice, unable to believe what he is seeing. Kyle turns to Tweek, who gives him a small, reassuring nod, before he turns back and reads it once more. Kyle starts tearing up, concealing the smile on his face with his hand as he weakly steps back and breaks down sobbing again. Tweek turns to the side and crouches down beside his fellow finalist, pulling Kyle into his arms and wrapping him in a congratulatory embrace.

Token Black
Multitalented Host/Voted World's Sexiest Man in 2019

Deandra loves Kyle? Yeah, no kidding. (rolls eyes) She called the show fifteen times after he had his fuckin' breakdown, just to see if he was alright. Then when we didn't answer, she flew a banner over the goddamn house. Congratulations, Broflovski. You deserve it. – I know that sounds malicious, but I do think they're a good match. (smiles)

…

Kyle Broflovski
Finally Happy For Once (Thank you, Jesus!)

Can I go home now? (smiles beneath the waterworks, visibly touched) – Honestly, I don't even care if I win the money anymore. I just wanna hold my girlfriend. (sniffs and wipes tears off his cheek)

…

Later that morning, Tweek is standing in the kitchen, basking in the morning sun as he cradles his fifth cup of coffee in his palms. Tweek smiles and pivots to the camera, "I'm just standing here thinking about what it would be like to be crowned the winner of this game and what it would mean to me as a person," Tweek reveals, openly sharing his thoughts like the camera is one of his best bros, "I feel very fortunate for a lot of things in my life. I have great friends and the best boyfriend in the world, and in a way, I've already gotten what I wanted out of this. I did everything I set out to do and then some," he confesses, his words filled with unbridled emotion, "I made it to the end, I found my inner strength, and I grew as a person – and that's all I could ever really ask for. But as selfish as this sounds, I really want that title. I really want to be the winner because I think that I earned it…and I hope everyone on the jury thinks so too."

"The 50K would be great," Tweek speaks, after reflecting a bit more on his journey, "but I really want the grand prize. It would change so much for us. I could pay off our student debt, and I wouldn't have to rely on my parents for anything. We could get a new apartment," he states with a wishful sigh, "It would be a whole new life. And I'm excited for it. I'm really excited for this all to end and for me to go home – which is what I call Craig now," he laughs, the ceiling lights reflecting in his eyes, "And I just can't wait to see what happens next. Wow…is this what it feels like to not be constantly freaking out about every little thing?" Tweek beams, lifting his head up to the rafters, "This is amazing!"

…

Tweek Tweak
Well-Rounded Coffee Bean

This house is so big and so empty with only two people in here, so last night Kyle and I just built a fort out of mattresses and blankets in the HOH room and slept right smack dab in the middle of it, and I felt like I was ten years old again!

…

An hour later, Tweek is sitting with Kyle on the grand mattress, which is now sprawled out on the floor of the HOH room. Tweek smiles, sporting his boyfriend's signature navy blue coat as he jovially riffles through his HOH gift basket that Token delivered in-person that morning, both of the houseguests having the time of their lives discovering what the host put in. Tweek's face lights up when he pulls out a photo of him and Craig from last year, holding Stripe in front of his strawberry birthday cake. He enthusiastically shows it to Kyle.

"Wow!" Kyle beams, smiling at the picture that Tweek eagerly shoved in his face as he sports Dee's necklace around his neck, "I haven't seen Craig that happy since Stan tripped and faceplanted during the school musical."

"Yeah…" Tweek chimes, pulling his hand back to admire the picture, "That was a really good cake," he states as Kyle pulls out a small Stripe doppelgänger plushie and hugs it. "Ooh, look! It's a letter!" Tweek vividly exclaims, relieved that this sentence no longer traumatizes his fellow finalist.

"Who's it from?" Kyle wonders, inching forward slightly to take a peek.

Tweek scratches his chin as he carefully tears it open. "I don't know. Let's see!" Tweek pulls the letter out, cocking his forehead slightly when he sees the sender's choice of pale pink paper. He shrugs, unfolds it, and starts reading. "The letter reads: 'Dear asshat', which was immediately crossed out and replaced with: 'Sorry. I forgot I was writing to you and not my dumbass of a brother,'" Tweek states, stopping to bite back a grin.

Kyle aahs, "Tricia," he says.

"Yep. It definitely sounds like her," Tweek confirms, silently scanning over the rest of the letter. Kyle watches as Tweek's face shifts through a kaleidoscope of emotions, ending with a small sniff and a heartwarming tear.

"What'd it say?" Kyle wonders. He immediately backtracks once he realizes how invasive that question really is, "I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to-"

"Kyle, it's fine. She was just telling me a little bit about her adventures in the drama club, and that she is very proud of me," Tweek confesses, folding the letter back up and returning it to its resting place, "Apparently, the entire Tucker household erupted into cheers when I beat Cartman at the final HOH."

"An appropriate response," Kyle nods.

"Yeah…" Tweek coos, suddenly finding himself overwhelmed by an intense wave of homesickness.

Tweek Tweak
Complex Harbucks Frappuccino

This is the longest Craig and I have ever gone without seeing each other since we started dating and…I just miss him so much. (tears up, hugging his body)

…

Kyle Broflovski
Storybook Ending/[Insert Jew-related Pun]

I was a little nervous to see Stan going into this, but honestly, ever since I read Dee's letter, I've been rejuvenated. I feel like I can do anything, and that includes seeing my ex-lover and former best friend again. – And I know if Cartman were here right now, he would be making some terrible, Jew-related pun with that word. But now that I've got my love back, not even he can bring me down.

As much as I want to run home and live my life, I have to finish what I started. Dee told me right before she left the house that she doesn't want me to give up this whole thing just for her because that's not healthy – and I agree. If I want us to work this time, I have to be my own person and think about what I want, not just now but in the future. I do want to go home and be with Dee, but I also want to finish this chapter. I want to try to win this game for her and for me. And I think I have a pretty good shot. Winning this would be the icing on the cake for this experience. I already got everything I could've ever wanted, but the $500,000 would be a nice bonus, so let's do this!

…

Two hours later, Tweek and Kyle are gathering in the living room, the pair addressed in their classic, everyday attire as they take their seats on the two lush lounge chairs for what may be the final time. "As the final hours of the competition are approaching, I can't help but feel a little anxious for what's to come," Kyle voices over as onscreen Kyle fixes his signature green trapper hat, "I didn't have the best jury management this season, so I know the jury questions may be a bit rough. But I'm ready for it. I like a challenge, and this is definitely going to be challenging. I think I have a few people in my corner, like Kenny and maybe even Stan and Cartman, so this game is live," he states as present-day Kyle adjusts his shirt cuffs, "I'm ready to fight to win this. Tweek and I have been adversaries for the entire endgame, so I think this'll be a rather epic final battle, so to speak. Ugh," Kyle shivers, "I can't believe I just quoted Cartman."

"This is it," Tweek voices over as his onscreen self wraps Wendy's lucky pink headband around his wrist, "Am I the winner? Is this whole story mine? Was Craig right from the very beginning? Can I beat the Baywatch-attractive super intellectuals?" he exuberantly states, present-day Tweek straightening up in his seat. "Okay, but in all seriousness, I am so nervous because I have no idea how this vote is going to go. I'm hoping Craig will at least vote for me, so this whole thing isn't a total bloodbath. I'm pretty sure Wendy's a lock – but I don't want to get too ahead of myself here. We both know nothing in this game is certain," he sighs, "I don't know if Clyde will vote for me. I mean, I was the one responsible for his eviction, so I don't blame him if he doesn't, but I sure hope so. He told me right before he left that I had to earn his vote, and I don't know if I have. Guess I'll find out tonight," Tweek laughs nervously.

…

Tweek Tweak
Intense Coffee Bean/Future Winner?

If I want to win, I can't be ashamed of what I've done; I have to own it. I want to prove that me making it to the end was no fluke.

…

The camera cuts to the studio, where a fancily-dressed Token is standing in front of the TV that just ran the recap of the final day and is now showing a live feed of the BB living room. A carefree Tweek is dancing beside the coffee table, holding the guinea pig plushie in his arms.

Token steps forward, dressed in his sparkly gold-trimmed tuxedo, and flashes his million-dollar smile to the camera as he stops beside the jury. The jury is sitting in two rows of four, with Clyde, Stan, Butters, and Kenny sitting in the elevated back row, in order from left to right, and Craig, Bebe, Wendy, and Cartman sitting in front of them. "Welcome back to the finale of Big Brother. I am here with the jury, who just watched Kyle and Tweek's exciting last day in the Big Brother house. I mean, who saw that coming?" Token chimes.

Clyde shoots his hand up, "I did." Token snaps his neck around and glares at him. Clyde cluelessly shrugs, "What? We just watched it!"

Token clears his throat and turns back to the audience, "Anyway, we are live," he announces, pacing back towards the television, "As you can see, Tweek is dancing in the living room with a stuffed guinea pig for some reason," he states, gesturing to the screen, "And Craig is a little choked up because he just saw Tweek say that he really misses him." The camera pans to Craig, who is covering his face, attempting to hide his grief. Clyde reaches forward and pats him consolingly on the back like a true bro, "So, what did you guys think?" Token wonders, stopping beside the jury once more, "This was your first time seeing an unedited episode."

"I think Tweek gives great confessionals," Wendy replies with a gentle raise of her hand.

"The viewers thought so too," Token nods, "It's definitely a massive improvement from his first one that was so disastrous that we had to cut it from the show."

"Oh, I remember that," Clyde grins from the back row, giving a content sigh at the memory, "He was so scared, Craig had to walk in with him!"

"Exactly. Stan," Token sloppily diverts, narrowing in on the raven, who is sporting a black Crimson Dawn t-shirt with his signature red puffball hat, "You are eerily quiet. Was that tough for you to watch? I mean, three of Kyle's former love interests are sitting in this room, so I can definitely feel the tension here."

Stan shifts in his seat, leaning forward with a weighted sigh, "Yeah...you know, it obviously wasn't what I wanted to see, but I'm glad that Kyle appears to be happy. Let's see if it stays that way," Stan remarks, unable to mask his jealousy.

"Ooh...sounds like someone's being cynical," Token coos, raising his eyebrows at this juicy response.

"Can we talk about the confessional titles you gave yourself?" Clyde asks, eagerly raising his hand up like he's about to tell the class that five times two is twelve again.

"No," Token curtly replies, clapping his hands together and turning back to the main camera, "Now, we are just moments away from hearing the jury's thoughts on the final two."

"Who are you talking to, Token?" Cartman blurts, his sunglasses so thick, he can barely see two feet in front of him. The fatass is showcasing his best royal ensemble, topped with a velvet cape and a crown of fake jewels. The words 'BB Winner' are written across the front in thick purple marker, "I don't see any cameras!" he proclaims as Stan absentmindedly looks around behind him.

Token facepalms at the cantankerous fatass, "Oh, for the love of-"

A technical difficulties screen flashes for a second, which consists of a photo of Jimmy and Timmy giving the camera a thumbs up, complete with jubilant elevator music, before it returns to the set, picking up right where they left off – only now, Cartman is wearing a muzzle.

"Mmm mmh hmm mmh mmm!" Cartman shouts, attempting to complain through the fabric.

Kenny beams from his seat directly behind the human flubber, "Ooh, I like these changes!"

"That's right. We are back with the jury!" Token chimes in his best annoying game show announcer voice, "And I am just about to open my fan mail." The jury watches curiously as Token takes out an envelope from his tuxedo pocket and rips it open, "This one is from hotgirl53, and it reads-" he brags as Craig rolls his eyes and stands up from his chair, "Dear Token, you are so talented. I think you're the hottest host on TV-" Token sweatdrops suddenly, feeling the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He shivers and quickly turns away, now noticing that Craig is standing right behind him, catching him off guard. Craig takes this opportunity to snatch the card from the host's grasp.

"It's just an empty card," Craig states, cocking his eyebrow at the discovery.

Token rolls his eyes, "Well, you didn't have to ruin the fantasy, Craig!" he growls, ripping the card away from him before flipping a switch and instantly changing his demeanor, "And now, it's time for an exciting new segment I like to call: Viewers' Questions!" Token beams, gesturing Craig back to his seat as the host turns back to the camera to dive into his explanation, "Viewers' Questions is a segment where the viewers get to ask anything they want to the jury – well, okay, maybe not anything – I mean, it does have to pertain to the show, but still, it's pretty free reign in terms of how talk shows usually go," Token says, clearing his throat to end his tangent, "Anyway, we received so many questions from you guys, which is great. I will do the group questions first, and then we'll do the individual-based questions after the commercial break."

"Yeesh, that's going to be a long commercial break," Craig mutters, arms crossed as he sits in his seat.

"You're telling me," Token grumbles, before pivoting back to the audience, "Now if I skip your question, that means it will probably be used later in the show for a more relevant segment, so don't worry too much if you don't hear yours. Now, we're going to start with a fun one here that's for everybody: What was your favorite competition this season?" he asks, stopping beside the jury.

Kenny immediately shoots his hand up, "Well, I was only there for two competitions, but the ball one was a lot of fun."

"Ah, yes, We Have Balls," Token specifies with a smile.

Craig scrunches his forehead, "Is that seriously the name of the comp?" Token nods, "Wow. I like it," he states in his usual flat tone.

"-And no one is surprised," Token remarks, not skipping a beat. He claps his hands, "Alright, since Kenny started us off, let's just go down the row here, and everyone can name their favorite comp. Butters, how about you?"

"Um…" Butters begins, nervously tapping his knuckles together. He chuckles, "Well, it wasn't the talent show, that's for sure…I guess if I had to choose, it would be the food competition where we had to heat up a bowl of soup because I helped us win, so that was fun."

Stan clears his throat shortly after Token points at him, "I'm going to surprise everyone here and say it was The Newlywed Game."

"Really?" Token squeaks as Craig flashes Stan a shit-eating grin from the front row.

"Yeah, I mean, the jokes were hilarious, and I think we were all on a pretty even playing field going in. Plus, I did win, so it must not have been that awful," Stan grins as Clyde gives a small nod.

"Stan wants Craig!" Kenny teasingly shouts from the top with a simper.

"No."

"Well, my favorite competition was the pie eating contest!" Clyde chimes, butting in before a fight can break out, "I went to bed that night feeling so full. It was amazing…" he lovingly sighs, basking in the thoughts of custard and cream.

Token chortles, "Never change, Clyde. Craig, you're up next, and I doubt you're going to say The Big Brother Marionette."

"Oh, hell no," Craig grunts, immediately shooting down the thought, "Now, I don't know if this one was my favorite, per se, but I liked the food challenge where Tweek gave up coffee over me because it was the only comp where we got to sleep together during it."

"-And he tied you up!" Stan adds behind him.

Craig sighs fondly, "Ah, yes."

"Geez, you guys are into some kinky shit!" Kenny chimes. Token facepalms and motions for Wendy to go on.

"For me, there is no contest, it was the Big Brother Boutique," Wendy beams, before turning to her bestie to hear her response.

"I enjoyed Jokes with Jimmy, as you so lovingly called it, Token," Bebe replies as confident as ever as her emerald dress shines in the spotlight, "I mean, it was awkward as hell, but there were some great jokes told."

Cartman quickly rips his muzzle off, shooting daggers at the host before turning to a nearby camera, "Well, my favorite competition was obviously the talent show because I am clearly the most talented person here!" he boasts.

"Then why were you evicted last episode?" Kenny smirks, enjoying stirring up shit from his comfortable seat in the back row.

"Oh shut the fuck up, Kenny! No one cares what you think! You were barely on this season!"

Token sighs and clasps his hands, "And on that cheery note, let's move on to the next question. Now, I don't want you guys to give away anything about how you're going to vote tonight or who you're leaning towards, so try to keep that in mind when you answer any of these questions. If you don't feel comfortable responding because you're worried that you're going to give away too much, feel free to pass, and we'll just move on to the next person," Token states, the host's voice surprisingly soothing and professional, "So, with that in mind: Which player (jury or finalist) do you have the most respect for?"

Clyde shoots his hand up. "100% Bebe. I think I speak for almost everyone here when I say that she was the classiest person in the house," he answers, several of his fellow jurors nodding beside him, "Even when she got voted out, she took it in stride and really tried to give everyone a fair shot – even the people who went after her. She was also one of the only jurors who actually thought about voting for Cartman if he had made the finals."

"I mean, I thought Cartman did well, minus the social aspect," Bebe defends, addressing the shocked look that is gracing the host's face.

"Thank you, Bebe. I am awesome," Cartman agrees, leaning back smugly in his seat at the supposed praise.

Token groans, "How do you keep getting the muzzle off?"

"So, I'm just going to go a little off the grid here and say Tweek because he was so resilient," Bebe jumps in while Token attempts to get the crewmates to put Cartman's muzzle back on, "I mean this was a guy who was essentially terrified of his own shadow at the beginning of the season. And it was incredible just to see him evolve as the weeks went on. He went through such a hard time, especially after Craig was gone, and he just let all these hardships roll off his back, so I have a ton of respect for him for that. I also think he handled the whole Cartman bullying him thing really well," she adds as Craig shoots Cartman a death glare from his seat.

"Okay. I would love to keep going here, but we are really strapped for time, so I'm going to move on to the next question, and I think this is another stellar one," Token comments, staring down at his notecard for the first time this segment, "If you were in Tweek's position at the final three, would you have chosen to bring Cartman, the easiest player to beat, or Kyle, the most deserving player, to the finals with you?" he asks, "So, show of hands here, who would bring Cartman? Cartman, obviously, you would have to bring Kyle in this scenario, so don't raise your hand here." Cartman huffs and crosses his arms.

Butters, Clyde, Craig, Bebe, and Wendy all raise their hands. "Really, Craig? You would bring Cartman?" Token asks, unable to believe what he is seeing.

Craig nods, his expression fierce, "I would take him to the end just to sweep the floor with him."

"Please, Craig! Like you could sweep the floor with anybody! You couldn't even do that if you were a broom!" Cartman cries, biting back a sinister grin at what he thinks is a genius-level burn.

"Kenny and Stan bringing Kyle makes sense, at least I think so, because you guys are obviously close friends – or you were in Stan's case," Token adds, Stan's face falling at the jab, "Bebe, being an excellent strategizer along with Wendy, is doing the best game move. Clyde, why would you take Cartman?" he wonders.

"Cause I wanna win," Clyde answers, as simple as that.

Token nods, "Fair enough. And Butters?"

"Well, gee, Cartman's my friend. Why wouldn't I bring him along?" Butters chimes, innocently batting his eyelashes.

Token snickers and shakes his head, "Oh, Butters. I think I speak for everyone here when I quote the classic Craig line, 'You need better friends.'"

"Okay," Token states, clapping his hands together, "We are going to do two more questions, and then we are heading to the commercial break. This one is another fun one, and here it is: If you could pick any two people to be in the finals instead of Tweek and Kyle, who would they be and why?" he reads, pulling the card down slightly with a simper, "And I especially love the addition they added to the bottom, which reads, 'And you can't say yourself, Cartman!'" Token completes with a shameless smirk. "So, let's go in reverse eviction order for a change of pace here. Cartman, who would you pick?"

"Uh…" Cartman begins, contorting his face a bit as he stares up at his fellow jury members, looking like he's just been asked which limb he's going to cut off, "Stan and…Clyde because they were the only two people who didn't piss me off much this season."

Wendy turns to Token with a smile, "My turn?" he nods, "I'll say Bebe, of course, because I think she played an amazing game and she's my bestie for life and…Craig because I think that his final speech would be very entertaining," she adds.

"I agree. Craig, why didn't you try harder?" Token fake pouts. "Bebe, aka Miss Normal, who would you choose?"

"Wendy and Kenny because I think Kenny would also be very entertaining to see in the finals," Bebe replies, building off her bestie's thought.

"Well, the dream final two is me and Tweek, but I can't choose either of us for this question, so I'm going to say Clyde and uh, hmm…" Craig turns and scans the crowd over, several of his fellow jury members flashing him hopeful faces, "Can I choose that cricket that lives on the windowsill?"

Token shrugs, "Yeah, sure, why not?" he states, casually waving it off before turning to his bro, Clyde.

"I pick Craig and my man, Kenny!" Clyde declares, causing Kenny to let out a manly cheer and high five Clyde over Butters and Stan. Kenny slips and falls onto their laps. He rolls off them with a monstrous thud, hitting his head against the pointy leg of Stan's chair.

"Kenny? Kenny!" Stan cries, jumping out of his seat and crouching beside him. He shakes his shoulders, Stan paling when he sees blood dripping down the side of his friend's face. Stan turns to the cameras and his fellow jurors, "Uh oh."

The technical difficulties screen appears onscreen once again, but this time it shows a sloppily drawn cartoon sketch of Kenny being carted to an ambulance on a hospital stretcher as the jubilant elevator music plays on full blast. A few minutes later, it returns to the studio, where Kenny's body is sitting upright in his chair, Cartman's thick sunglasses blocking his soulless eyes.

"Alright, so…we're just going to pretend that Kenny didn't die until he comes back from the dead like usual," Token quickly comments before flipping to the next card, "Oh, and before we move on to the next question, just to catch everyone up, Stan said that he would pick Kenny and Wendy, most likely to try to kiss up to his ex-girlfriend."

"Which didn't work!" Wendy claims in point, folding her arms as she snubs him.

"Right…and Butters started crying, saying that he couldn't possibly choose, so we had to calm him down by giving him a Hello Kitty popsicle," he recaps, turning to Butters who is vigorously licking one of Hello Kitty's gumball eyes. Token awkwardly coughs, "So, this brings us to our last question before the official commercial break, which we are now calling a staff intermission," he adds, sympathetically glancing at the already exhausted crew behind the camera before turning back to the stars of the show, "If you could relive any moment in the game, what would it be and why?" he asks, giving the jury a few seconds to think it over, "Stan's would obviously be the double breakup," he wisecracks.

"Haha. Very funny," Stan snaps, crossing his arms in a pout.

"Gnome hunt," Wendy speaks suddenly, straightening up in her seat with a smile, "The gnome hunt was so much fun. Tweek and I had a lot of great moments together this season, but I think that and the fashion show were the ones I would love to relive the most."

"I agree," Bebe nods beside her, "The fashion show really united the whole house. Everyone got super into it and looked like superstars, so I'm also going to go with that one." Token gives a sigh of relief, happy that someone is keeping this whole segment going.

"My moment was definitely playing spaceman with Craig, right before I left the house. It was just a dream come true to be able to do that on national television," Clyde beams, shooting a smile that could blind a spotlight, "So thanks for that, bro," Clyde states through a sniffle, leaning forward to pat Craig on the shoulder, the stoic stiff as a board and deep in his own thoughts.

An awkward silence washes over the group. "Anyone else?" Token asks, his words cutting through the awkwardness like a knife. Cartman and Stan exchange glances and shake their heads while Butters keeps licking his treat, fully immersed in enjoying every delicious drop, "Craig, what about you? You've been strangely quiet…at least by your standards," he adds, addressing a few of the other jurors' bewildered expressions.

Craig sighs and stretches his fingers out, "Well, it's definitely not getting drunk and making a fool of myself on national television, that's for sure," he states, his voice cracking slightly, "But I know what I would pick. There's really no contest…" he begins, trailing off as he anxiously plays with his hands.

"Ooh, the tree carving?" Clyde guesses. Craig shakes his head.

"Tweek telling everyone you're a sex god?" Stan chimes out behind him. Craig shakes his head.

"Ooh, ooh! Sleeping with him right before you left?" Clyde guesses once more, raising his arm so high it almost pops out of his socket.

"No, Clyde," Craig answers pensively, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He slowly lifts his head up and stares at the live feed, where Kyle and Tweek are now happily conversing on the sofas, his tone so somber one would think he's confessing a traumatic backstory to the masses, "It was the week I came back into the house when I confronted Tweek about throwing the HOH competition, where he looked me in the eyes and basically hinted that he did it on purpose," he reveals, having a hard time getting through this. Sensing his struggle, Clyde leans forward and pats Craig on the shoulder. Craig swallows, his throat dry as tears form in the corners of his eyes, "I've said since the very beginning that my boyfriend was going to win this game and no one believed me – not even him, but when I looked at Tweek, I knew at that moment, he believed it too," he confesses, an intense aura culminating around him.

Token stands in silence, not expecting such an emotion-filled answer from someone who was voted "Most Likely to Be a Robot" in high school. The host steps back towards the television and gawks at the equally speechless group in front of him.

"Well, this is an awkward time to tell everyone that I'm back from the dead."

Chapter Text

The audience cheers as Token waves to the crowd, his sparkly gold-trimmed tux blinding a few of them in the process. Beside him, Craig is nervously wringing his hands while Clyde exuberantly waves to the masses, blowing them kisses with both palms. The camera pans over the audience, where everyone's favorite diabetic lisper is sitting in the front row. Scott shoots a double thumbs up to the camera.

"Welcome back to the finale of Big Brother," Token beams, stepping back towards the television while he cradles a pale blue notecard in his palm, "We have so little time and so much to get to, so I'm just going to dive in to this first group of questions. They're for fan favorite Kenny McCormick, who just came back from the dead. Wave to the crowd, Kenny!"

"I am," Kenny shrugs, giving a saucy wink as he waves to a few fans in the front row. The fans shriek and reach towards him.

Token rolls his eyes and gestures for security, "Okay, I'm going to start with a more carefree question first, before I start throwing you the hard balls," Kenny raises his eyebrows, "So, are you disappointed that you weren't able to make out with everyone in the house like you had so lovingly planned?"

"Yes and no. I mean, I knew the second half of the house was going to be a challenge, especially since somebody is very territorial," Kenny playfully glares at Craig, "but on the plus side, I didn't have to make out with Cartman, so I think I still came out on top."

"Aye! You wish you could make out with me. I'm the make out king!" Cartman retorts, pointing to his crown.

Stan nose laughs from the top row, biting back a smile, "I heard you were so sloppy you swallowed Heidi Turner's necklace."

"Dude, what the fuck, Stan?! I told you that was just a dirty rumor!" Cartman blares as a bunch of the other jury members start snickering.

Token clears his throat, hoping to round these goofballs up and get them back under control. "Anyway, this is kind of a weird transition, but Kenny, another topic of discussion amongst the fans that didn't come up much at all this season was your relationship with Kyle, who is obviously your friend and one of the final two," Token adds, the tone in the room immediately shifting when the host mentions his name, "So, keeping in mind that he will most likely be taken by the end of the show, what are your feelings towards Kyle? Are you romantically interested?"

"Am I romantically interested? Huh," Kenny repeats, leaning back in his seat slightly, a befuddled expression spread across his face as Stan and Cartman watch him intently. "I wasn't really expecting this question, honestly, but Kyle's my friend and I'm not a monster. I mean, you saw how happy he looked when Dee said she loves him. I'm not going to break that up-"

"Just give it three weeks. I'm sure they'll break up on their own," Cartman huffs, rolling his eyes up at the ceiling.

"But I will say, if Kyle was available and he threw himself at me, I wouldn't say no," Kenny elaborates with a cheeky grin, "He is a catch. Ask his other three love interests here if you don't believe me," he chimes.

Token chortles, "Oh don't worry. We'll be getting to all of them shortly," he promises the audience. Wendy shakes her head from the front row, "Now Kenny, because you were the first person evicted this season, you spent the most time in the jury house of anyone. So the fans were wondering, did it get lonely being in the mansion by yourself for a week before Butters arrived?"

Kenny holds his hand out and teeters it. "I guess so. I mean, after the total shitshow that was Week 1, it was nice to have some time to myself to really decompress and get over the fact that I no longer had a chance at the money," he admits genuinely, "But that only took a day or two, and by the end of the week, I was longing for someone sane to talk to," he says, sprinkling a chuckle into his response.

"Fair enough," Token nods, swiftly flipping to the next notecard, "We have one last question for Kenny, and this is something we will definitely touch upon later on in the show as well, but Kenny, obviously this season was an emotional rollercoaster for your group especially. You had the drama between you and Cartman, Stan and Kyle, and Cartman and Kyle, so what are your thoughts on the emotional situation that your gang is in? Do you think what happened on the show will further affect the dynamics of your friend group, either in a positive or a negative way?"

"Wow! You weren't kidding when you said you were going to be chucking hard balls," Kenny awes, reveling in the difficulty of this question, "Well, I think what a lot of people don't understand is that the four of us don't really see each other that often," Kenny confesses, turning to the crowd, "I mean, yeah, we're still friends, but we're all in our twenties, we all have our own lives to live, so we don't have the time to hang out like we used to. But this'll definitely put a damper on things, I think. Now whether or not it affects things in the long run, I don't know," Kenny shrugs, Stan's gaze glued to the floor, "I hope not because I do like Kyle and Stan, but that is damage they're going to have to repair on their own," he completes with a stern nod.

Token steps backwards slightly, the gravity of Kenny's reply catching him off guard. "Well, alright. Before we all wallow in this storm cloud, it's time to move on to another juror's segment. And without revealing directly to the audience who it is, here's the question I want all of you guys to ponder: Who's the boy with the heart full of wonder?"

"Oh!" Clyde shoots his hand up, bouncing in his seat, "It's Tweek!"

"No, Clyde," Token sighs, his face falling slightly, "Everyone knows it's Butters! And that's him," Token chimes, pointing to the platinum blonde, who has just finished his Hello Kitty popsicle. "Butters," the host addresses, taking a step forward and clasping his hands, "You're a pretty happy person, and the fans really want to know, what keeps you so happy knowing everything you know?"

Butters cocks his forehead, "Gee, what do I know? I don't think I've ever known anything before!"

"I think that was more of a general question, Butters. I think the fans just want to know how you stay so optimistic despite the fact that the world is crumbling around you."

"Oh my goodness! The world is crumbling?" Butters shrieks, slapping his hands on his cheeks, "We gotta save it right now!" Next to him, Kenny chuckles and shakes his head.

Token facepalms. "Okay, well, I think I'm going to answer this question for him and say it's his naivete," he sighs, flipping to the next notecard before turning back to the sheltered houseguest, who Kenny is now patting gently on the shoulder, "Now Butters, I'm pretty sure I already know the answer to these next two questions, but how are you fairing with this whole situation? And who helped you the most when you moved into the jury house?"

"Well, gee, I think I'm doin' pretty great," Butters chimes, a smile spreading on his face when he hears this question, "I didn't go as far as I wanted to in the game, but I got to spend a lot of time with some fantabulous people. We had a ton of fun in the jury house, and I found so many pebbles that I can't wait to add to my collection, so all in all, it was an awesome summer."

"Uh-huh," Token states, giving a knowing smirk, "And I'm guessing the answer to that second question is Kenny?"

"Gee, how did you know?" Butters wonders, blinking twice.

Token smiles and looks devilishly into the camera, "Just a hunch." Token exhales as Butters curiously cocks his forehead at the comment. "Now Butters, I'm not sure if you're going to be able to address these next few questions without giving away too much, but I'm going to ask them anyway. So, as you guys all know because you watched the Week 8 HOH competition, Tweek said that he influenced Craig to throw you, Butters, under the bus Week 2, so he could secure himself a place in the girls' alliance. This viewer just wanted to know, how did you feel when you found this out?"

"Ooh, that is a good question – and I unfortunately can't answer that. Sorry," Butters squeaks, sinking apologetically in his seat.

"That's okay. I'm sure we'll find that out later," Token casually comments, before flipping to the next card, "Now, I know you said specifically, Butters, that you wouldn't comment on either of the finalists' game plans until the finale, but what are your personal thoughts on the emotional aspect of it. Do you resent either of the two, or are your personal relationships with everyone still the same?"

Butters pauses slightly, fathoming these questions and allowing them to sink in. "Um, I will say that my relationships with everyone in the jury house haven't changed too much over the course of the game, but a few of them have gotten stronger. As for the finalists, uh…" Butters rubs his chin, trying to find the best way to word his response, "For me, I am a more emotionally-driven and socially-driven person, so I think a lot of the stuff that happened affected me more than it would most people. But the tricky thing about it is that I was only in the house for two weeks, so there's so many interactions that I didn't get to witness that I had to hear about from others. And it's been a struggle to try to weigh my interactions with the finalists versus everyone else's, especially since a lot of the jury members have strong prior relationships with both of them that influence how they perceive them. It's kinda like a ten-thousand-piece puzzle, where I have to do the best I can collect all these pieces of information to build an accurate interpretation of their journeys," Butters anxiously chuckles, already feeling the heat, "I'm sorry if I'm rambling, I hope this makes sense," he meekly apologizes, noticing the stunned look that is gracing the host's face.

"No, it definitely does. I'm just – wow, I was not expecting that insightful of a response from anyone. Now I'm really looking forward to hearing what you have to say to the finalists."

"Aww! Thank you, Token!" Butters coos, clasping his hands together and resting them adorably under his cheek.

"You're welcome," Token states with a genuine grin, "The viewers also want to know how you feel about being the key vote. I know you said at the very end of the last jury house episode that you didn't want to be the key vote. Has that perspective changed at all, or are you still bummed about it?"

"I wouldn't say that I'm bummed about being the key vote, so to speak, but it is a lot of pressure because this could be a life-changing decision," Butters explains, nervously fiddling with the hem of his sky-blue Hello Kitty sweater, "All I can say is that I did not take this decision lightly, and I'm going to listen to everything both Kyle and Tweek have to say before I cast my vote."

Token smiles, seemingly proud of this response, "And that's all we could really ask for." The host claps his hands and rubs him together, licking his lips in eager anticipation before smirking at his chosen victim in the top row, "And with that, we have come to Stan Marsh," he coos, causing the raven to gulp with bated breath, "Stan, I'm not going to lie, most of your questions are about your many failed relationships, but I'm going to save those for later in the show and ask you this one now: What do you think about your two exes – Kyle and Wendy – temporarily getting together?"

Stan's expression shifts from worry to one of complete confusion. "Wait. What?"

"Yeah, they were together for a hot minute," Craig remarks, earning a glare from Wendy from down the row.

"For once Craig's telling you the truth, Stan," Token answers, unable to resist taking a jab at his friend, "Kyle and Wendy kissed a few times in the house before Kyle completely burned her, so what are your thoughts on that?" Token wonders, avidly leaning towards the jury.

Stan smacks his lips together, stalling for time as he struggles to formulate an answer. "Well…um…that's certainly interesting," Stan drawls, doing his best to withhold his response before he says or does something he might regret later, "I mean, neither of us were together at that point, so I guess they can do what they want."

"Really, Stan? Really?" Wendy snarls, firing on all cylinders. She stands up from her seat and points an angry finger in his face, resulting in Stan defensively putting his hands up, "You're really going to stand there and spew hypocritical shit like that?!"

"Wendy, calm down. This is Big Brother, not an episode of Maury," Stan mutters, his voice barely above a whisper, the raven all bark and no bite.

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" Wendy shouts, growing more agitated by the moment, her face glowing purple, "I'm not going to calm down until I'm dancing on your grave!"

"Whoa, okay. Everyone, simmer down here," Token responds, intervening before a fight breaks out. Wendy shoots Stan another glare before she sighs, reluctantly complies, and plops back down into her seat. Bebe flashes her bestie a sympathetic gaze while Craig is sporting a shit-eating grin beside her. "Yeesh. We need to move on to a lighter topic stat before you two kill each other," Token comments, frantically flipping through his cards like his last lifeline. "Ah, here we go," Token smiles, turning to his best friend, "Clyde, you were very popular with the viewers. A lot of people really liked you, which is why I wasn't surprised at all when you received the most questions."

"Really? I did?" Clyde squeaks, the compliment going straight to his head and cueing his gigantic puppy eyes.

Cartman sarcastically stares at the ceiling, "Great. Now he's going to get a swelled head!"

"Indeed," Token curtly agrees, "So, how does it feel to be the best boy of them all, you beautiful, thicc sporty baby?" Token reads, barely able to suppress a chuckle.

"Well, first of all, thank you for calling me thicc and in doing so, saying something that Craig has never once admitted in the entirety of our broship," Clyde beams; Craig shakes his head, "And secondly, it feels absolutely amazing, so…thanks for asking. I love you all!" Clyde beams, clapping his hands once and throwing them up towards the crowd. The audience cheers.

Token chortles as Clyde sits back down after enthusiastically blowing a few kisses, "So Clyde, one of our viewers asked this question, and I think it's a really good one. How has going through this whole experience changed you as a person? Because we the audience watched you evolve a lot in the four weeks you were in the house," Token states, diving further into his recap, "You started out obsessed with Bebe and trying to win her back, then you developed a crush on Tweek, which jeopardized your friendship with Tweek and Craig. But then you and Bebe had this incredible heart to heart, where you realized that Craig was onto something when he told you that you really need to work on being happy with yourself instead of just jumping from relationship to relationship. But what do you think? How do you think you've changed as a person?" Token asks, actually stopping to listen for once.

"Hmm…well, you know I do feel happier with myself as a whole," Clyde answers with a confident nod, "Throughout the season, I was surrounded by such great people – both in the main house and the jury house – and for the first time in a while I actually don't mind being single. Being single doesn't mean I have to be alone and miserable, I can surround myself with people who I want to hang out with and who want to hang out with me, so that's fun," he beams, before shifting to a more serious tone, "I also feel a lot better about my friendship with a lot of the houseguests, particularly Craig, because of what we went through together. It's always nice to know that a friendship is stronger than you thought it was, especially if you thought it was pretty damn strong in the first place," Clyde remarks, flashing Craig a special smile from the back row.

"Again with the positivity, Clyde. Man, you are unstoppable!" Token praises, "This ties in perfectly to our next viewer question which is: How are you so funny even after everything all played out? You're so motivational."

"Aww…well, I've always been a positive person and it comes naturally to me, so I wasn't too upset when I didn't win the money. Again, I knew my path to the end was going to be more difficult because of the relationship you and I have," Clyde states, gesturing between him and Token, "But I was up for the challenge. And honestly, I just needed a vacation, and what better way to relax than to go on a television show with nine of your best friends?" Clyde jokes, flashing a simper into the camera.

"And how would you describe your relationship with two of your best friends, Tweek and Craig, right now? Do you still want to bone Tweek?" Token questions, going straight for the oh-so-juicy shock value.

Clyde gives a half-laugh, stiffening a tiny bit once he feels Craig's eyes boring into his soul from the front row, "No," he answers quickly, "No, I don't. I'm going to leave that to Craig," Craig turns back in his seat, seemingly satisfied by this answer, "But I think my friendship with both of them is pretty solid. I'm not going to dive too deep into my relationship with Tweek, obviously, cause he's in the finals. But um, Craig and I are still best bros. I respect the hell out of him, so…all hail our fearless leader!" he grins, giving a playful bow. Craig laughs and shakes his head, hiding his face in his hand.

Token nods, repressing a smile at his friends' antics, "Someone also asked what your thoughts were on Tweek's game plan. You can't respond to that yet, but I'm sure you will tell us all about it once you guys go back into the Big Brother house," Clyde nods as Craig's stomach tightens at this news, staring up at the host with genuine apprehension. Token clears his throat, snapping Craig out of this expression, "The viewers also wanted to know if your preference is always blondes with strong spirits, or if that's just a coincidence, so what are your thoughts on that, Donovan?" Token teasingly asks.

Clyde shrugs. "What can I say? I like what I like," he chimes, turning to the crowd, "Unlike Craig, I don't think I really have a type. The last two people I liked did have a lot of similarities, but they had a lot of differences too. But that doesn't mean I don't like blondes with strong spirits," Clyde clarifies, turning to his fellow jurors and narrowing in on Kenny, "So uh, take that as you will," he flirts.

"Man…if I had a nickel for every time a new relationship sparked on this show, I would be fuckin' rich," Token quips, rolling his lip.

"You're already fuckin' rich!" Cartman blares from the front, holding up his makeshift megaphone that he swiped from a member of the audience.

Token rolls his eyes, "Then I would be swimming in money," he clarifies, clearing his throat before asking the lovable brunette his final question, "Now this is a question for you, but I'm probably going to end up redirecting it to Craig, knowing how you usually misinterpret what the word 'ridiculous' means: What is the most ridiculous thing that someone had to prevent you, Clyde, from doing?"

Craig snaps his hand up immediately, "Cracking his skull while he was roleplaying as King Gingivitis when I first came into the jury house," he answers with a disapproving glare.

"Oh, please! I would've been fine!" Clyde coos, waving off the thought, before seriously pondering this question over, "I'd say the most ridiculous thing that someone had to prevent me from doing was when Kenny stopped me from licking Butters' eyeball."

Craig twists in his seat, flashing Clyde the most discombobulated look of the century, "Dude, what the fuck?"

"And on that disturbing note, let's move on to the next set of viewers' questions. And these are all for everyone's favorite stoic asshole, Craig Tucker," Token announces, a shameless grin on his face.

Craig scoffs, "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Yes. Very much so," the host boldly states, winking to the camera, "Craig, as a surprise to pretty much everybody, you were actually very popular on the show. Probably only second to your own boyfriend-"

"Well, we are adorable."

"True, and a lot of the viewers really liked your sassy comments and your utter indifference towards pretty much everything that wasn't Tweek. But if you were to ask me, someone who is a lifelong friend of yours and your own personal idol-"

Craig rolls his eyes, "Don't flatter yourself, Token."

"-you were quite emotional this season – at least for you. Do you regret going on the show? Because it seemed like you weren't having much fun," Token comments.

"You're joking, right?" Craig quips, suppressing a grin, "I had a blast when I was in the house. It was probably the most non-Tweek-related fun I've had in years."

Token stands in front of the jury, idling in a flabbergasted expression. One of the crew members steps out from behind the camera and slaps him with a cue card. Token groans and quickly knocks himself out of his trans. "Sorry. I just got news that the world has officially ended," he proclaims, flashing Craig a baffled expression, "But, okay, let me rephrase that last question. Craig, do you regret participating in this show, given the potential problems it caused in your relationship with Tweek and your friendship with Clyde?"

"No," Craig answers, not even having to ponder this over for a second before diving further into the delicious deets, "I mean, what lasting problems did it cause? If anything, both of those relationships came out stronger than ever."

"I agree," Token adds, trying to contribute something to the conversation before he flips to the next card, "Week 5, you said that you and Tweek had a plan to do everything you could to ensure that one of you would made it to the end, and hilariously enough, both you and Tweek thought that the finalist would be the other person – so you thought that Tweek was going to make the finals and Tweek thought that it was going to be you," Token explains as Craig nods along, surprisingly engaged for once, "One of the biggest moments of the season, and I'm going to say this as unbiased as possible here, was obviously when Cartman put both you and Tweek up for eviction. But there's one scene in that episode that really stuck out to me, and that's the one that happens right after Cartman nominates you two, where you and Tweek meet afterwards and you essentially tell him to eliminate you because in your eyes, he's the better player."

"Yeah."

"So…" Token trails off, trying to come up with the best way to word this, "Any regrets?"

Craig shakes his head, "No, because I think Tweek really needed this. His self-confidence was pretty much down the toilet when we walked in here day 1, and I think he needed to prove to himself that he is strong and capable of great things. And he definitely did that as far as I'm concerned. I mean the Tweek that I saw Week 7 was a whole new Tweek, and I wouldn't change that for the world."

"Damn it, Craig," Token sniffs, wiping his tears off with his notecard, very few dry eyes in the room, "How can such an emotionless person speak such eloquent words?"

Clyde curiously raises his hand, "Didn't you just call him 'emotional' a minute ago?"

Token aggressively clears his throat, "Anyway, this is a question that quite a few people asked to both you and Kenny, and I think it's a neat hypothetical to discuss. Craig, I'm going to let you answer first, and then I'll give Kenny a chance to respond. So, you two," Token begins, gesturing vaguely between the chosen jurors, "Oh, wait. This is specifically addressed to Craig, so Craig, as everyone knows, you were set to be eliminated Week 1 by a 6-1 vote, and obviously, that didn't end up happening, but if you had gone out Week 1 instead of Kenny, do you think Tweek would've been able to get to where he is now? And if not, do you think you'd be happier if he had gotten out of the house sooner?"

"Short term, yes. Long term, no, to answer the second question." Craig replies, as calculated as ever, "Of course I would've been happier if we were together sooner, but like I said, I knew how bad Tweek needed this, so I would've waited for a year if I had to," Craig confesses, eyes locked on the host, "And for the first one, it's tough to say because if you change one circumstance, especially in a game like this where there are so few contestants as it is, it completely alters the timeline. I definitely think we grew closer than ever before during those five weeks that we were together in the house, so that certainly made my eviction a lot more devastating for him, which as you saw, motivated Tweek like hell for the second half of the game," Craig reminds him, "But I have faith in Tweek's abilities, and I think he could've found a way to make it to the finals if he was driven enough to do so. Absolutely," he states, nodding conclusively.

"Alright. Fair enough," Token responds, somewhat impressed by the thoroughness of Craig's answer. He turns to the orange-clad man in the back, "Kenny, same hypothetical. How far do you think you could've gone in this game if you hadn't been voted out Week 1? Do you think you could've won?"

"Oh, I definitely think I would've had a shot. Whether or not I could make it there without dying along the way though, would be another question," Kenny says with a chuckle, flashing a million-dollar smile to the crowd. A few people in the front row swoon.

Cartman rolls his eyes, "They're faking it!" he grunts, pouting as he turns away from the studio audience.

"The last two questions both have to do with your time in the jury house, Craig, and interestingly enough, they both have to do with your coping mechanisms," Token transitions, getting a boost of mirth from ignoring the fatass, "How much did having Clyde around in the jury house help you cope with your separation from Tweek?"

Craig looks to Clyde, who flashes him a hopeful expression, the stoic taken off guard for the first time this segment. "Um, you know, I think it helped a lot. I was never going to tell Clyde this, but he's going to see it on TV anyway if he watches the Week 5 episodes, but I was kinda down after he was eliminated. I don't know, it just felt like the house wasn't the same once he left."

"Aww…Craig!" Clyde coos, his pupils growing like he just saw an all-you-can-eat buffet, "I love you so much! Bro hug!" he screams, before latching onto his frame and smothering him into an embrace.

"No, no, get off me! Goddammit, Clyde!" Craig cries as the brunette continues to straddle his back. Behind him, the entire back row is happily enjoying the show. "Damn it! I can't breathe!" Craig yells, attempting to pull himself out of Clyde's iron grip, before ultimately just giving up and flopping back-first onto the floor, taking his friend with him. Craig groans, "I swear if you wrinkled my tux, I will never forgive you."

Token lightly shakes his head, laughing at their antics, "And I can't think of a more perfect time to ask Craig this last question which reads: After you were evicted do you sometimes wish that you could just lie down next to Tweek, in bed, and do the stuff you love?" Token winks.

"Oh, for the love of God, please don't mention Tweek now," Craig states, finally pushing Clyde off him and onto the floor. Craig kneels and holds his stomach, fatigued from the minor scuffle, "But yes," he answers genuinely.

"Fantastic!" Token beams, clapping his together, "And to make this even more awkward, it's time to discuss Clyde's early-game crush on Tweek."

"Jesus Christ, Token. Do you just enjoy torturing me?'

Token shrugs, "Hey, you did that last one to yourself, Craig. You know how Clyde gets when you give him anything close to a compliment," he reminds him, "Anyway, Clyde, do you still have feelings for Tweek?" he asks, shit-eating grin on full display.

Clyde chuckles as he returns to his seat. All eyes are on him, but he doesn't seem spooked by it one bit. "Really, Token? You're going to ask me that while I'm right next to his boyfriend?" he asks, gesturing to Craig.

"Well, the viewers just wanted to know if your feelings for Tweek just went away as fast as your massive crush slapped you across the face, or if it was a slow process of acknowledging those feelings and just learning to accept them and move on," Token articulately elaborates, the jurors staring at him bizarrely until they notice the strategically placed cue card behind the center camera.

"Oh," Clyde squeaks, blushing lightly, "I actually think I said it best in my last conversation with Tweek when I told him that I think the reason why I developed a crush on him was because he was clearly unattainable. After the mess that was my love life this past year, I was so afraid of rejection and getting hurt again that I purposely went after something I knew I couldn't have. Not to harp on Tweek or anything, I think he's a total catch and agree with Craig that he's fuckin' adorable, but I was definitely crushing on him as more of a coping mechanism," Clyde states, his face lighting up with pride after he incorporates Token's words, "So, no, um…those feelings are long gone."

"And as a host who loves drama, all I can say is…yippee," Token grunts, giving the most sarcastic-sounding exclamation in the history of television. He puts on his best hostly smile and turns to the camera, blissfully unaware of the strange looks that all eight jurors are shooting in his direction, "Now it's time for us to talk about perhaps the juiciest, most controversial week of the whole season. I'm talking about Week 3, people!" Token chimes, the mere mention of this week causing Stan's stomach to drop like he's on a rollercoaster, "In case you don't remember, Week 3 was the week where essentially, everything went to shit," he recaps, looking way too happy stirring up the pot, "Stan was caught cheating on Kyle and Wendy, Clyde enlisted Cartman's help in dealing with his crush on Tweek, Stan and Craig won The Newlywed Game and had the most awkward date in history, and Craig shed full-blown tears for the first time in five years and almost wrecked his circuitry in the process," he smirks, Craig glowers from the front row. Token licks his lips and turns to the jury, "Jesus Christ, you guys. How did you manage to have a years' worth of drama in one week?"

"Every day was a soap opera in the Big Brother house!" Clyde cheerfully exclaims.

Token lightly shakes his head. He glances at his notecards, hoping to stir up the drama quick before everyone decides to act like rational adults. "So Stan, after all is said and done, the viewers are wondering how do you plan on fixing your relationship with Wendy, if at all?" Token asks, leaning forward slightly, pretending he actually cares about the raven's well-being but secretly relishing in his discomfort. Bebe and Wendy turn in their seats, both shooting daggers at Stan.

"Well, I've been trying to kinda extend the olive branch to her, but she's just not interested," Stan replies, too cowardly to make eye contact with Wendy and merely settling for a glance over the woman's shoulder.

"Probably because you don't actually mean it," Wendy mutters, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back in her seat. "I've seen this same song and dance fifteen times, Stan. If I believed it again, I would just be a fool."

Token clears his throat, seeing that this is nose diving fast and quickly flips to the next question, "So Stan," the raven lifts his head up, thankful for the distraction, "do you think you'll ever find a way to patch things up with Kyle and Wendy, or did it all break down to a point that even Toolshed can't fix?" Token asks, stifling a smirk. Craig cracks a smile at the wording.

"Honestly, and Wendy could attest to this if she was being mature right now," Stan answers with a glare in his ex's direction, "I don't think the two of us were at a very good place in our relationship going into the season, so it was essentially a ticking timebomb. I think being on the show just kind of sped up the inevitable for us, so I don't think our relationship was the end all be all for me or her. Hopefully someday we can at least have a civil acquaintanceship with each other, but if not, you know, I'm not going to lose sleep over it, and I wish Wendy the best," he answers with a nod.

"And what about Kyle? Do you think you two you will ever patch things up?"

Stan shrugs, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he stares at the host, "I don't know. I mean, I feel like we kinda did a little bit right before I left the house. Obviously, now that he's back with Dee, we can never really get back to the same place we were romantically, but not going to hold any ill will towards him. He's my best friend," Stan penitently sniffs, the man on the verge of tears.

Token nods, "Alright then. And without rubbing too much salt into the wound, I'm going to quickly ask you this next question, probably already knowing the answer: What is the one moment you regret the most from the season?"

Stan clears his nose, wiping a few tears away from his eyes before addressing the cameras, "Losing Kyle for sure. No question."

"Fair enough," Token replies, flipping to the next card, "Now this question is addressed to both you and Wendy as well as Kyle, who obviously can't answer it right now, but what do you, Stan and Wendy, wish you had done differently in your time on Big Brother? Stan, let's start with you and then we'll move onto Wendy's segment," the host explains, giving a not-so-subtle thumbs up to one of his producers.

"Um," Stan begins, nervously wringing his hands as he stares down at the intricately placed tile, "I think I would definitely tell Kyle the situation with me and Wendy, so I wouldn't break his fractured heart," Stan remarks, sounding surprisingly facetious in his reply. Kenny rolls his eyes.

Token turns to Wendy, pointing in her direction. "I would've put Cartman up when I was HOH Week 3 to try to even the playing field more," she states, Cartman scowling at the comment, "I don't know if it would've completely changed the course of the game, because Stan might've still gone home in that scenario. But I think it probably would've prevented Kyle from going to the dark side."

"Interesting. So, let's dive in a bit into this hypothetical. So obviously, Butters and Kenny were already at the jury house Week 3, so they wouldn't have voted. Wendy would be HOH with no chance of voting because an odd number of houseguests would be eligible to cast votes. Stan and Cartman wouldn't have votes because they would be on the block, which means only five people could cast votes for eviction," Token briefly explains, flashing an enthusiastic smile to the crowd, "Now Wendy, you just said that in this scenario, you would try to get rid of Cartman, so I think it's safe to assume that your alliance would follow through with your plan, so that's two votes for Cartman – Bebe's and Tweek's. Craig, I can't imagine you would vote for anyone but Stan," Token states, pausing slightly for confirmation; Craig nods, "so it's now 2-1, Cartman. Clyde, I assume you would probably vote with Craig, just like you did during the real Week 3," Clyde nods, "So that just leaves Kyle as the swing vote in this scenario, and honestly, I think he might've voted to save Stan. But again, I don't know what he would've done in this hypothetical because there were so many moving pieces. Obviously, Stan had just broken his heart and Kyle had Cartman whispering in his ear, telling him everything he wanted to hear and trying to get him to partake in the alliance. We'll definitely have to ask him sometime because I am very interested in hearing his answer and where he thinks his head would've been," Token declares with intrigue before turning back to Stan's other ex, "Wendy, the viewers have one last solo question for you and unsurprisingly it's about your relationship with Stan. Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive him, despite the emotional turmoil that was Week 3? Or is the mere promise of a reconciliation just a lost cause?"

Wendy turns forward, releasing the heaviest sigh she has all season as she lets this question dwell over her. "You know, as much as I would love to just brush this whole thing off and move on with my life, I just can't do that. He's hurt me so many times in our relationship that I'm physically numb. I don't want to have any kind of association with Stan – I don't even want people to mention us in the same sentence – I just want to cut him off for good, so, no, I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him," Wendy replies, her expression as cold as ice.

A weighted silence washes over the room, causing Stan to shiver. "Wow, um, alright. That definitely answers my question," Token speaks, hoping to push through the thickness before someone chokes, "And with that, we are going to go to Bebe here. And Bebe, a lot of the viewers are excited to hear your thoughts on the finalists. Obviously, your answers might be a bit limited here because you guys haven't had the chance to address either Kyle or Tweek yet, but what are your brief thoughts on their social and game strategies throughout the show? And how did you feel about Kyle betraying Wendy a second time?" he wonders.

"Well, I'll answer your second question first and as sad as this is to say, I honestly wasn't surprised that Kyle betrayed Wendy a second time. I mean if you're already playing ruthless, why not just stick with it?" Bebe rhetorically states, before continuing to dive in, "Especially if that's your style of gameplay. Because, in my opinion, it's better to be consistent with your game strategy instead of all over the place," she clarifies, pausing for a breather, "Obviously, like you said, I'm not going to give too many thoughts about Kyle's and Tweek's strategies because you will hear more about that from me later, but one thing I will say regarding Tweek is that I was very impressed by his timing. He was the kind of player who knew when to give information and when to keep his mouth shut. Case in point – that final HOH competition. He just let it all out on the table the second he knew he had that challenge in the bag, probably because he wanted us to have time to soak it all in. So I thought that was very impressive and well calculated," Bebe comments, "I also thought Tweek's decision to tell Wendy about him throwing the comps was excellent as well because I think they had established so much trust between them at that point that he knew she wasn't going to turn on him and that her having that knowledge was only going to help him if she ended up in the jury house that night – which she did. Tweek's reads were also very spot-on throughout the season. He was the first one to catch on to Kyle and Cartman's alliance, and he did it at a very emotionally draining time for him. And after he told us, we were so focused on splitting up Kyle and Cartman that we didn't think about trying to cut Tweek at all, so that move was impressive."

Bebe smiles and stops to take a sip of her water, "As I said before, Kyle's strategic placement of himself in the house was definitely one of his biggest strengths. The same way Tweek used Craig as a shield in the early game, Kyle used Cartman. And this works hand in hand with how Kyle really played in the middle. He always made sure that he was never the first target and since he knew none of us liked Cartman, he kinda played off that, which I think was very skillfully done. I also think Kyle made a lot of the right moves, but he didn't necessarily do them in the best way. Splitting myself and Wendy at the final five was the best game move for him strategically because it essentially leveled the playing field and gave him more options, but obviously by doing so, he lost a lot of Wendy's and my respect," she explains, Wendy nodding in agreement next to her, "But I don't think that is enough to say that Kyle isn't deserving or that he's a bad player. I actually think he's a very good player, who was just going through a lot emotionally. And that's definitely something I'm going to take into account before I cast my vote tonight."

"Thank you, Bebe. Once again, you continue to offer us interesting analysis on the final two contestants," Token compliments, Bebe puffing her stance at this praise, "These next few questions are for you and Wendy, and I think this first one's something that Wendy has been dying to give her thoughts on since the casting of the show. Was it weird being the only two girls in the entire game? Or were you already used to being outnumbered?" he asks, leaning forward slightly.

Wendy and Bebe exchange glances, before Bebe waves her in, but Wendy declines and encourages Bebe to go first. "Um, I didn't think it was that weird. Like the viewer said, we're used to it. Honestly, I was just happy to be on the show. Sure, it would've been nice to have a few more women in the house, but when I found out the cast was mostly men, a part of me was relieved because I thought they'd be easier to manipulate," Bebe confesses with a chuckle, "Of course, that wasn't necessarily true, but it was a nice thought at the time."

"Wendy, what about you? What are your thoughts on this subject?"

Wendy cocks her forehead, the raven still deep in thought as she stares absentmindedly at the television screen. "You know, I would've loved it if we started out fifty-fifty, but I understand why a lot of our peers didn't want to do this. That being said, I do think Bebe and I came into the house with a bit of a disadvantage in terms of pre-existing relationships, just because most of our friend group wasn't in the house. But then again, we came in with some advantage as well. Since there was only the two of us, we could be more adaptable and kinda sneak into the cracks of some of the bigger alliances. And we were seen as less of a threat early on because there were bigger fish to fry."

Token nods, "So do you wish then that there were more girls in the house? Or were you happy with things the way they were?"

"Yes and no. I do wish the distribution was a little higher, but like I said there were benefits," Wendy answers straight-up before turning to her bestie to hear her response.

"Yeah, I agree with Wendy. I do think there should've been at least two or so more women there. I'm actually super interested in seeing what an even split would've done, but perhaps that's a scenario for a future season," Bebe playfully responds, flashing Token a frivolous stare.

Token boisterously chortles, "I wouldn't hold your breath on that one. It was hard enough finding women willing to put up with the insanity that is those guys," Token remarks, gesturing to the men situated around the besties. Shockingly, no one tries to retort this claim. "So, for this last question here, we're going to ask about the third member of your trio, Tweek, who is currently talking to the Craig necklace," Token narrates, pausing slightly to watch Tweek onscreen. Tweek is sitting in the living room, moving the Craig pendant from side to side as he enthusiastically speaks for him. Even though the sound is muted on the live feed, Token can tell he's in the middle of a rather lighthearted conversation. Token laughs and shakes his head at the sight before turning to the girls, "So, Bebe and Wendy, how do you guys feel knowing Tweek's game plan? Obviously, he was aligned with you since pretty much the very beginning, but he did weaken you a bit with some of the moves that he made. Did the information that he revealed at the final three change any of your feelings towards him as a player or a person? And if he doesn't win tonight, will you still be a part of his life knowing what you know about how ruthlessly he played?" Token asks, artfully piling the questions on, "Because when you guys were in the house, you knew Kyle was playing ruthless, but Tweek? That was a bit of a shock."

"Looking back, it really wasn't," Bebe jumps right in, quickly disputing the claim, "I mean, we should've seen that Tweek was a good player the second he made that pitch to us the day of the first eviction ceremony. Anyone who could excessively stutter one minute than talk like freakin' Joe Charismatic the next is bound to be dangerous," she laughs before shifting into a more serious demeanor, "But I don't think it really changed anything for me – at least not negatively. You guys know me, I'm not one to hold a grudge, so I'm sure we're still going to be friends after this, regardless of what happens."

"Fair enough," Token interjects with a tasteful nod, "Wendy, what about you? Because you and Tweek were more of a duo in the house, and after Craig left, you were his biggest supporter. What did you think about Tweek's gameplay after he revealed it to everyone?"

Wendy swallows, her eyes focused on the blonde on the TV screen, "You know I respect Tweek for a lot of things in his game. If I was going to be stabbed in the back in the house, I'd rather it be from a friend than an adversary, but if he outplayed me, he outplayed me – and I can accept that."

"Do you think that he outplayed you?"

Wendy pauses, taken off guard by this question. "I'm not going to answer that right now. I will say that I think Tweek took the more difficult path to get to the end. I admire how he was able to trick others into carrying him further, but I don't think that he was riding coattails per se, because he was playing behind the scenes," Wendy carefully elaborates, "I think after this is all said and done, Tweek and I will probably still be friends. He's just not the kind of person you can stay mad at. Because unlike Kyle, I knew Tweek genuinely cared about me as a person and that everything he did was just a part of the game, and I'm not going to be mad at him for doing what he was supposed to do."

"So you're not going to be miffed if he doesn't win?" Token wonders, prodding her once more.

Wendy shakes her head, "No, I'll be disappointed, but I won't be angry at him. He did all he could do to get to a place where he has a good shot at the money, so…I'm not going to be angry, no."

"Wow. How refreshingly mature," Token comments, putting on his best shit-eating grin as he narrows in on the self-proclaimed star of the show, "Speaking of maturity, it's time to talk to its inept cousin…Eric Cartman, who is the epitome of emotional instability."

"AYE!" Cartman cries from the front row. He leans slightly into Wendy, "Wait, that's an insult, right?" Wendy nods and scoots away from him, "AYE!" he blares, sneering at Token.

"Cartman, the first thing the viewers want to know is, after spending fifty-six days with him in the house and one day with your fellow jurors, do you still believe that Tweek doesn't have a shot at the money?" Token wonders, Craig furrowing his eyebrow in interest at the question.

Cartman scoffs and rolls his eyes at the ceiling, "Please, Token! He wouldn't have a shot at the money even if he was up against his clone!" he exclaims, causing Kenny to cock his forehead from the back row.

"That doesn't even make any sense," Kenny states.

"Does anything he says ever make any sense?" Craig adds.

"Good point."

Token sighs and tisks at the fatass, "And once again, Cartman continues to be delusional. I would continue drilling this further, but we all know this is unfortunately a lost cause," the host states with a hefty sigh, "Now, the viewers also want to know if you were upset when you found out that I threw a huge pizza party the moment you were sent out the door," he says, his face lighting up at the memory.

"Wait. You threw a pizza party after my eviction?"

"Uh…surprise!" Token stammers through his teeth, throwing his hands up in fake enthusiasm, "So what do you think?"

"I think you're a jackass," Cartman grunts, pouting in his seat like a toddler, his arms crossed.

"And I think you're the worst person I've ever met," Token states nonchalantly, delivering his news like he just told someone the weather, "This last question is my absolute favorite because it perfectly encapsulates my feelings towards Cartman's loss," Token praises, biting his lip in eager anticipation as he gazes down at the notecard, "Cartman, how does it feel knowing some village lost their idiot? Hahaha! You lost; can you take the L? And do you still have feelings for Kyle?" he asks, his smirk on full display. Token scans over the jurors, who are all doing their best to suppress their joy and remain impassive.

Cartman huffs and stomps his foot on the floor. "Well, first of all, this is all a load of bullshit because everyone knows I didn't lose that last HOH competition!" he blares, growing more infuriated with each passing second. Clyde and Kenny roll their eyes behind him, "Second of all, I never liked Kahl, okay? He was the one who was obsessed with me, so he can just go off and make babies with Dipshit or Dingus or whatever the hell her name is for all I care!" he erupts, complete with a sassy snap.

"So, to answer your question, viewer – no, Cartman can't take the L, he feels sad that some village lost their idiot, and he still clearly has a thing for Kyle," Token devilishly recaps, before unceremoniously continuing, "Special thanks to this one viewer who decided to ask me a question. I greatly appreciate the thought," he beams, displaying the question onscreen, which reads 'Token, who are you hoping to win?' Token turns to it and nods in acknowledgement. "Since I don't want to influence any of the jurors' decisions because they hold my opinion in such high regard, I'm not going to reply to this directly. But to answer your question, viewer, all I have to say is I'm rooting for the person who received the most confessionals in Week 8," he grins, casually flipping his card over, "We have a few more questions for the entire jury before I let them back into the house to cast their final votes. The first one is, do you think your time on Big Brother changed you? And what did you take away from this experience? Yes, Kenny?" Token chimes, nodding to the orange-clad man in the back row.

"Well, I think this experience impacted all of us in some way. Even though I was only there for a week, I still spent a ton of time away from the people that I love and that was tough. So, I definitely appreciate them a lot more – shoutout to you, Karen, I love you!" Kenny exclaims, giving a heartfelt wave to the camera.

Token smiles, "What about you, Butters?"

"Oh, I didn't change at all. I'm still as awesome as ever," Butters laughs, not skipping a beat.

Token snickers, "I am loving the confidence. Stan?"

"Well, I learned not to air my dirty laundry out on public television," Stan answers bluntly, before turning to listen to Clyde's response.

"And I learned that I am hot and capable of doing things on my own."

Token beams and turns to Craig, "I learned that it's possible to fall even more in love with my boyfriend, so watch out, Romeo and Juliet. Tweek and I are about to give you guys a run for your money with our much-superior love story," Craig declares, flashing an uncharacteristically lively grin to the camera.

"I learned that I am a strong, tough, and honorable woman. – Oh, wait. I already knew that," Bebe boasts, vivaciously flipping her blonde locks over her shoulder.

"I learned not to trust a word most of the male population says," Wendy answers, stone-faced and cold, "But I really should've known that."

"And I learned that Token is a dirty cheater and that I am the best person who ever lived," Cartman chimes, adjusting the crown on his head, cueing an eye roll from the host.

Token claps his hands, "So, it sounds like this experience changed all of you in one way or another, which leads me to the question: How many of you would do this again?"

"Why? Are you casting for a season two?" Craig wonders, skeptically raising an eyebrow.

"That is neither here nor there, Craig, but I suppose anything is possible," Token retorts, before turning to the other jurors, "So, let's do a show of hands here. If I offered you guys the opportunity right this moment to play this game again in the future, who would take it?"

Token watches as everyone, minus Craig and Cartman, raises their hands, although Butters is holding his up rather low.

"Really? You would, Stan?" Token coos, a bit stunned by the raven's response.

"Oh yeah," Stan nods, "I definitely think I could do better if you don't put me in a house full of my exes."

"Don't give him any ideas," Craig mutters.

Token turns to the side and narrows in on his friend and group leader, "Raise your hand, Mr. Popular."

"Yeah, no thank you," Craig rebukes, rolling his eyes as he folds his arms over his tux, "I am not spending another second away from my boyfriend, especially not with these idiots," he complains, gesturing to the entirety of the back row, minus Clyde, and Cartman, drawing an invisible curve with his finger, "There's only so much nonsense a guy can take before he goes completely insane," he cries, widening his eyes for emphasis.

"We love you too, Craig," Kenny simpers from the back.

"And to kind of wrap up this more serious segment, what are you guys' plans for after the competition?" Token wonders, setting down his notecard to grant the jurors his full attention, "Kenny?" Token nods, calling on the fan favorite in the back who is politely raising his hand.

Kenny smiles and turns to the others, "Well, I don't know about you guys, but as much as I loved living the high life in the jury house, I'm excited to get back to my life and my house-"

"-Aka your cardboard box," Cartman cracks, giggling into his fat knuckles.

"I agree with Kenny," Bebe chimes in quickly as a glare-off goes on behind her, "I just want to go back to the real world and check my email. I must've gotten at least ten-thousand work emails by now."

"Yeesh! I didn't even think about that yet," Clyde mutters, anxiously tapping his fingers against his chair.

Token clears his throat and steps forward, "Anyone else have any plans? Traveling? Babies? Anything?" Token puts forth, a few of the jurors exchange glances and shake their heads, "Man, you guys are really quite boring."

"We're normal people, Token. We're not circus animals," Craig grunts, still watching his boyfriend on the live feed.

"Well, I don't know about yew guys, but I'm going to milk my success on the show for all it's worth and go on tour to promote myself!" Cartman declares, sitting up triumphantly in his seat like a peacock flaunting its feathers, "The world needs more Cartman!"

"Oh God, what kind of monster have I created?" Token laments, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and constipation. Token groans and slaps his notecard against his face, "Anyway, before things get even scarier, it's time for our final viewer question of the evening and for this one, we made a compilation! So, everyone turn to the TV, as we bear witness to the funniest pranks throughout the season," Token announces, eagerly turning to the flat screen as the montage starts playing.

The screen shows Craig standing in the girls room in the early afternoon, attempting to suppress a smile as he stares at his boyfriend, "Who are you?" he questions intensely, a hint of wonder in his tone.

Tweek steps forward, dressed in one of Craig's signature outfits, which is now covered head to toe with glitter, courtesy of a messy mishap from Clyde, "I'm you, only gayer!" Tweek proclaims in his best serious tone. He takes out a pair of sunglasses and dramatically slides them up the bridge of his nose, the sunglasses also coated in a sea of rainbow glitter. They stare silently at each for a second before they both keel over laughing.

The screen flashes to Clyde tiptoeing in the living room, the brunette quickly ducking under the couch when he hears someone headed his way. He turns to the camera and shoots his million-dollar smile, "All week, I've been trying to scare Craig, and so far, I'm 0-20, but I think this time is the time I'll finally make him jump."

"WELL HIYA, CLYDE!" Butters beams, the platinum blonde spotting him faster than a marble in an I Spy book.

Clyde nearly jumps out of his skin, perching his palm against his frantically beating chest, "Jesus Christ, Butters!"

The screen transitions to an infamous jury house segment, where the five jurors at the time – Kenny, Butters, Stan, Clyde, and Craig are sitting shoulder to shoulder on the sofa, listening to Fireman Jerry's fire safety talk. "Now," Fireman Jerry begins, clasping his hands as he stares at his five newest pupils, "what is the first thing you do when you see a fire. Yes, son?" Fireman Jerry nods at Kenny, who is excitedly springing his hand up from his corner seat.

"Point at it and scream!" he exclaims.

"No," Fireman Jerry groans, resisting the urge to facepalm for the seventh time that morning, "Let me rephrase that. What is the first thing you should do when you see a fire?" he asks, scanning the small crowd, "Yes, you in the middle," He points to Clyde, who has his hand raised eagerly. Beside him, Butters is preoccupied playing with the Hello Kitty plushie that is facing forward in his lap, moving his tiny plush arms in the classic Macarena dance as he sings the song under his breath.

Clyde smiles, the brunette upbeat as usual, "Pose by the fire and take a photo of it to post on Coonstagram with the hashtag #TooHot4ThisSpot?" he completes with a sassy snap.

"Dude, you still use that crap?" Kenny questions, almost grimacing at the mention of Cartman's mediocre photo-sharing platform.

"It's still the best place to categorize all my selfies," Clyde defends, talking more to the camera beside the sofa than to his buddy.

"Let's try to stay on track, everybody," Fireman Jerry chimes from the front, reaching behind his back and unceremoniously pulling out a photo of a fire extinguisher, "Now, can anyone tell me what this is for?" he asks, surveying the group once more for any participants, "How about you on the end?" Fireman Jerry states, narrowing in on Craig, the rest of the group following suit shortly after the callout.

Clyde cocks his forehead, eyeing his best friend, who is sitting up against the sofa with his arms crossed, a pair of glasses perched on his face. "Craig?" Clyde questions, gently shaking him when he doesn't budge, "Craig?" Clyde says, nudging him a bit too harshly in the shoulder, causing Craig to flop onto the left sofa arm like a dead fish, his arms draped over the sides. Craig starts snoring, the glasses sliding off his face to reveal his closed eyes.

"Hey, wait a minute," Kenny coos, curiously snatching the glasses from Craig's face and looking them over, "These eyes are painted on!"

"Wish I thought of that," Stan mumbles from his seat between Craig and Clyde.

"Hey, Macarena!" Butters sings, snapping his lap up slightly as he gets really into it, the impact accidentally flinging his Hello Kitty plushie across the room and straight into the lit fireplace. The fire roars with life, startling everyone. Butters stands up and screams, slapping his hands to his cheeks as he watches his fluffy friend disintegrate in the flames, "Ay!"

The camera shifts back to the studio, where the prank compilation has just concluded. Craig turns to Token, cocking his forehead at the grand finale, "That last one wasn't a prank; I just didn't want to listen to him ramble," he explains with a head shake.

"Well, as Tweek would say, 'that's a pretty good trick'," Token quips with a smirk, satisfied when Tweek's own words shut his boyfriend up. Craig shifts in his seat, the stoic growing more and more nervous as the segment drawls on. Token swivels slightly and beams into the camera, ignoring his friend's discomfort like a typical jackass host, "And now, because the editors have literally nothing better to do with their lives, and we still have a few spare minutes before the commercials, here's a montage of Craig saying the word 'fuck'!" he announces, turning eagerly back to the flat screen as yet another compilation begins playing for the crowd.

The screen flashes to a never-before-seen Week 3 clip, where Stan is calmly standing in the hallway, just minding his own business. Suddenly, Craig bursts through the adjacent boys room door, a shit-eating grin gracing his face, "Hello, Stanley!" he boisterously cries, cueing Stan to nearly jump out of his skin at the scare. Craig leans on the closed girls room doorway, accidentally slipping and landing flat on his face when Bebe abruptly opens the door to exit, "Whoa! Fuck." Stan bursts out laughing.

"Please tell me you got that," Stan gleefully tells the camera as he holds his slap-happy stomach.

The montage cuts to Craig drunkenly dancing in the lantern-lit backyard in his underwear moments after successfully throwing his pants on the roof. He accidentally slips and falls onto Tweek, his boyfriend skillfully catching him before he hits the ground, "Fuck!"

One week prior, Craig is sitting in the diary room, in the middle of giving a rather heartfelt confessional, when a microphone swings down and hits him smackdab in his injured leg. "Fuck!" Craig cries, quickly springing up and hobbling around the room, hoping to shake off the pain.

The next night, Craig is standing in the kitchen with Tweek, gazing at his lover with hearts in his eyes after eating one of Tweek's signature bribery croissants. "Fuck, babe," he moans between bites. Tweek blushes.

The screen flashes to the signature Week 1 scene that unfolds moments after the ten houseguests first entered the Big Brother house. Tweek is standing in the living room with Craig, the blonde boy a twitchy mess as he death grips his boyfriend. "Oh my God, what was that?! What is that?!"' Tweek screeches, leaping into Craig's arms when he hears a noise, "Oh Jesus! What if it's out to get me?!"

"Then I'll punch it in the face," Craig shrugs, his voice muffled by Tweek's torso, which is now frighteningly pressed against his cheek, the stoic as collected as ever, "We've been over this already, babe."

"Geez, Craig," Cartman coos, already strutting over like he owns the place, "Control your bitch!" he complains, pointing a condescending finger up at Tweek's trembling form. Craig snarls at Cartman and punches him effortlessly in the face with his free hand in one smooth motion while he holds Tweek with the other. "Fuck!" Cartman cries, cradling his nose before the pain triggers his baby-esque sob.

The camera cuts back to the studio, where the compilation has just concluded onscreen. Clyde smiles and jovially claps his hands, "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of Big Brother!" he cheers, throwing his hands up.

Token laughs, shaking his head from beside the screen, "We'll see…" he states, before turning back to the main camera, "This officially concludes the Viewers' Questions segment. Thanks to everyone who sent in questions – they were fantastic! But now, it is time for the moment you've all been waiting for," he announces, pausing for dramatic effect, "In just a few minutes, the jurors will return to the Big Brother house to question the two finalists and cast their votes for the first-ever winner," Token beams, preparing to excitedly turn to the jury members, "So, whenever you're ready, guys. Let's-"

The crowd gasps as the sound of a chair scooting echoes through the auditorium. Token turns to the jury stands, blinking twice at Craig's superhuman, speedy exit, only his empty chair left behind as carnage.

"…aaaand he's gone!" Clyde playfully narrates, awed by Craig's eagerness to see his love.

Token sighs and facepalms as he looks at the ground, "Goddammit, Craig!"

Chapter Text

Tokens saunters down the front pathway, clearly more concerned with looking good than getting to the Big Brother house's front doorway quickly. The other seven jurors are trailing him like Mama Duck, the afternoon sun watching over them from a distance. "Jesus Christ, Token! Where are we going, Mars? At this rate, Craig and the spaz are probably already fucking!"

The host stops in place, causing several of the other jury members to nearly bump into him. Token ignores the sea of miffed expressions and narrows in on Cartman, "First of all, you can't say 'fucking' on live television, okay? We'll get canceled. So that means no 'fuck', no 'fucking', no 'fucked', and definitely no 'fuckin' fuck fuckity fuck'," he lectures, his eyes as widen as cinnamon buns, "Do you understand?" he dramatically whispers.

Cartman looks to the other jurors before turning back to the host, surprisingly thinking this news over for three seconds, "Well, doo dah diddly doop!"

"Indeed," Token nods, seemingly satisfied. He walks on towards the house, the jury members instantly picking up behind him, Butters even mimicking a few revving noises as he does so, "And second of all, it's not like Craig can get far. The door's locked from both sides."

"Wait, you mean you locked them in there from the outside too?" Stan questions, pausing a bit at this information; Token nods, "Isn't that a bit of a safety hazard?"

"Yes," Token shamelessly admits, not skipping a beat, "but who's going to shut me down? I make the rules for this show!" his brags, his expression sinister, like a maniac holding a flashlight under his face.

A few of the jurors shiver. "See, yew guys? I told you he was drunk with power!" Cartman gloats, shaking his head as they approach the home stretch, their fellow juror coming into view beside the structure.

Craig jitters and hunches over, his face a putrid green as he vomits into the shrubs, a few feet away from the entrance. Clyde darts over to him and leans down beside his best friend, "Oh my God, Craig! Are you alright?" he coos, worry etched in his voice. He takes a tissue from his dazzling purple suit pocket and hands it to him; Craig gratefully accepts it, "Are you nervous?"

Clyde watches as Craig carefully wipes the vomit from the corner of his lips. He clears his throat, collecting himself a bit before making eye contact. "Yes," Craig answers wholeheartedly.

"Wow. I didn't think you'd willingly admit that," Clyde states, looking like he just saw a ghost.

Craig nods, still trembling slightly beside him, before a gross realization slaps him across the mouth, "Shit. Now my breath tastes like vomit."

Clyde turns, a smile tugging at his lips, "I really don't think Tweek's going to care, but, in case he does – Bebe!" Clyde calls out, cupping his hands over his mouth like a megaphone as he shouts across the lawn, "Hey, Miss Ultra Prepared! Get over here!"

Bebe cocks her brow at the callout, the blonde standing beside Token, who is attempting to break through one of the locks on the front door. She takes one look at the borefest happening beside her, before the fashionista scampers over, her designer bag hung over her shoulder, "Do you have anything to kill vomit breath?" Clyde asks the second she is in earshot.

Bebe thinks for a moment before sliding her bag off her shoulder, "Yeah, I think so," she replies, rifling through its contents at top speed, her bestie trailing her from a comfortable distance. Bebe randomly grabs a few items and pulls them out, hoping to more easily excess the depths within.

Clyde's face lights up as he takes the pink, bottled spray from her palm. He opens his mouth and presses down on the atomizer, spraying a gentle mist onto his tongue.

"Clyde, no! That's perfume!" Bebe cries, ceasing her searching once she hears the sound of stupidity occurring.

Clyde stares precariously down at the fancy, pink bottle, before he holds it back up, squirting the floral-scented concoction into his mouth once more. "Hmm…that's pretty good," he compliments, a pleased look gracing his face.

"Yeah, well, you can have the rest once you give me the five-hundred dollars for it. It's Chanel," Bebe grunts, snatching the bottle from him and defensively holding it against her chest.

"Well, clearly, she's a very gifted chef," he raves, glancing over Bebe's shoulder to stare into her bag, "Ooh! Is that pepper spray?" he asks, reaching into it.

Bebe slaps his hand away, "Will you quit trying to eat everything in my bag?" she cries, the situation attracting more of a crowd than the snoozer that is happening on the front porch.

Stan walks over, raising a curious eyebrow as he approaches with Kenny, stopping awkwardly beside Wendy, who has slowly inched over to the scene over the course of the last five minutes, "I have a feeling that's not the first time you've had to say that sentence," Stan states.

"No," Bebe answers with a sigh, "And it certainly won't be the last."

Kenny smiles, now holding up the spray that Clyde somehow got a hold of and just playfully passed to him like a football, "Hey, what is this? Is this pepper spray?" he asks, showily moving the item from side to side in his fingers.

"No, it's sour food spray," Bebe says, not even having to look up from her bag to know which item Kenny is referring to, "You're supposed to spray it on stuff that you don't want your pet to eat."

Stan frowns, "But you don't have a pet."

"Exactly, so who do you think it's for?" Bebe pauses her activities and silently gestures her head to Clyde, who is still standing cluelessly behind them. Kenny laughs in response, "It didn't work, by the way," she mutters, before scrounging through her purse once more, "Aha!" she proclaims, holding the breath spray up like it's the next messiah. She swings her purse back over her shoulder and sashays over to Craig, shaking the bottle of spray as she stops in front of him, the noirette blinking twice at her arrival. "Open your mouth," Bebe instructs, speaking with such conviction that Craig has no choice but to comply. She sprays it in his mouth. Craig grimaces, the spray pungent and tasting more like an off-flavored, dollar-store mint than a refreshing winter peppermint – as advertised.

Kenny steps forward, a devious glint sparking in his eyes as he eagerly rubs his hands together. "Wait! We gotta taste to see if it worked-"

Craig throws his hands up and quickly weaves his way through the crowd before Kenny can make a move, "Nope, nope. I'm good – thank you, everybody," he states, only slightly sarcastic, "-Not you, Stan. You didn't do anything," Craig adds, idling by his rival for a moment to deliver this dig. Stan frowns as Craig continues to walk back towards the house, where Token is still trying to unsuccessfully open the front door, Butters and Cartman on standby behind him.

Cartman's face turns bright red as incomprehensible puffs of anger start spouting out of his mouth like an enraged locomotive. "Oh my God, Token. We've been here for like fifteen years! The show's probably been cancelled by now!" he screams, his patience thinner than his sanity.

"Got it!" Token beams, snapping the lock open with a flick of his wrist. He reaches into his sparkly suit pocket and pulls out a black walkie-talkie, which has the words 'Rich Bitch' bedazzled in gold on the back. He holds down the side button. "Jimmy, I need an update on Kyle and Tweek," he buzzes.

Token moves the device closer to his ear as Jimmy chimes back the update, several jurors listening with bated breath behind the host, "Kyle is in the kit-kit-kitchen looking con-con-confused and Tweek is washing his ha-ha-arm attachments."

"Alright, thank you," Token curtly replies, pulling his finger off the button and pocketing the walkie-talkie in one smooth motion. He turns to the jury, who has now rounded up behind him, "Okay. Kyle's in the front of the house; Tweek's in the back. Everyone, arrange yourselves accordingly. We are about to go in."

Stan gulps, feeling his heart pounding frantically in his chest after carefully positioning himself right behind Kenny, near the front of the line. "You mean you keep tabs on them?" Stan questions, cowering slightly behind his friend.

Token cocks his brow, peering at Stan like he's insane (and Craig wouldn't contest to that theory!) "Of course, they're the finalists," he scoffs, "You guys are a dime a dozen, and Cartman's a freakin' hay penny, but if I lose them, there's no finale."

Stan turns to Kenny, who merely shrugs, "You asked," Kenny mutters.

Token pushes open the door and gestures all the jurors single file into the house, but all sense of order is completely forgotten the moment they walk through the doorway. Craig shoves Stan to the side and takes off towards the back of the house, Stan yelping as he harshly hits the wall. "I wasn't even in the way!" he shouts after Craig's retreating form, rubbing his injured arm with a sniff.

Clyde widens his eyes as he stares down at the carpet, immediately spying a certain something that fell out of Craig's pocket during his collision. The brunette discreetly picks it up and tucks it into his own suit jacket before giving Kyle, who just stepped curiously into the hallway, a wave.

Kenny instantly latches on to the redhead. "Whoo! Yeah! Congratulations, buddy!" he beams, pulling Kyle into an even tighter embrace.

Kyle flushes slightly, "Oh, um, thank you, Kenny."

Bebe flashes Kyle a cheerful thumbs up, before quickly following behind her bestie to the living room. Cartman and Stan awkwardly hover behind their two embracing friends, both looking like they'd rather be anywhere but here.

Finally, Kenny pulls away from the hug and takes a few steps back, putting Kyle and Stan face to face for the first time since Week 3. An awkward silence washes over the group, haunting everyone to their core.

"I uh, got your letter," Kyle speaks up, choosing to take the safe route.

"I know. I heard," Stan answers, his throat as arid as the atmosphere while he sways awkwardly on the carpet, "You look nice."

Kyle nods, the pair standing like statues as they face each other. He steps forward slightly, unsure if he should hug him or not, or if he should even continue interacting with Stan in the first place, "Thank you."

"Oh. Uh…you're welcome."

"Jesus Christ, this is physically painful to watch!" Cartman complains, hoisting himself up from his wall pout and stomping over to Kyle, stopping in front of his crush, "Kahl, you still look like a Jew, and I'm better than you. Now buy my poetry book for fifteen dollars," Cartman greets, holding his hand out for the money.

Kyle tilts his forehead, a smile actually cracking on his face. "No, Cartman."

"Well, doop diddly doo you!" Cartman cries, before stomping off to the kitchen to fix himself a snack.

Kyle turns to Kenny, his face asking a million questions.

"Token won't let us say any swears on live TV," Kenny elaborates as Butters continues to stand awkwardly between the two groups.

"Ah," Kyle coos.

A few minutes earlier, Craig is racing into the residence, his one-track mind moving a mile a minute as he searches for his love. At long last, he spots Tweek, who is unsuspectingly entering into the living room, staring at the floor. Craig bolts forward and glomps him, tackling Tweek to the carpet with a squeak. Tweek immediately relaxes when he sees who's holding him. "Aww, Craig!" he cries, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend as Craig lays on top of him. Tweek lays his hands on top of Craig's back, which is shaking like an earthquake "Babe, are you okay? You're trembling."

"I'm just really happy to see you," Craig sighs lovingly into his ear.

"I can tell," Tweek smirks, pulling back slightly and loosening his grip a bit. Tweek gazes into his eyes and gently cradles Craig's face, his pupils shining from the ceiling lights. "You look so handsome," he gushes, peppering his face with kisses before pulling him back into the warm embrace.

Craig nods, his voice muffled a tad as he talks into Tweek's shoulder, "I'm so proud of you, honey. I knew you could do it."

"Yes, you did," Tweek beams, smiling confidently as he holds him. Craig pulls his head back up, returning to his original position. Tweek cradles Craig's face once more and tenderly looks at him, "You knew it all along," he whispers.

"Tweek!" Wendy chimes, finally arriving at the scene with Bebe, their trek taking a bit longer due to the pain of having to trudge through a shag carpet in heels. Tweek slowly nudges Craig up. They steadily stand from the floor.

Wendy chuckles as Tweek quickly rearranges his already wrinkled shirt before throwing his arms up to hug her, "Wendy!" he enthusiastically declares. The former alliance duo excitedly embrace. "Oh, uh, wait. I have something of yours!" he states, stepping back slightly. Wendy watches as Tweek pulls his sleeve up, revealing her lucky pink headband wrapped around his wrist. He goes to unwrap it, but Wendy stops him.

"Nah. You keep it," Wendy smiles, delicately pushing his wrist down, "You earned it, Tweek. You're a fuckin' warrior," Wendy proclaims, turning to Token with a 'so what?' look on her face before he can scold her for using a swear. Tweek sniffs through a smile, touched that Wendy deems him worthy enough to hold this honor.

"Bebe! Wow! Look at you, you look like a runway model!" Tweek beams, quickly addressing the last member of their secret alliance.

Bebe's face lights up at the compliment, although she plays it off with a mere wave of her hand, "Oh, please, Tweek. I always look like a runway model!" she jokingly scoffs, pretentiously flipping her hair over her shoulder, "Did you get my message?"

Tweek cocks his forehead, "What message?"

"The message I wrote on the contact box," she pouts with a light stomp of her heel, "We had it preapproved by Token and everything."

"Unfortunately, he confiscated the box from me pretty quick, but we can just bug him about it over and over again until he hands it over," Tweek quips, igniting a laugh from the trio.

Bebe nods, "Sounds like a plan."

"Alright, everyone!" Token announces, loudly clapping his hands from the center of the living room, "It is time for the moment we've been waiting all season for…the final voting ceremony! Everyone, get in here, so I can properly explain how this is going to work," he instructs, pausing for a few moments to allow all the houseguests to scamper in. Tweek gestures Craig forward, who hasn't gone more than three feet away from his boyfriend since they got reunited a few minutes ago. Tweek grabs his hand. "Okay, so, this is going to be broken down into three parts. The first part is the jury questioning, the second part is the vote, and the third part is the vote reveal. Is anyone lost so far?" Token questions, staring straight at Clyde. The brunette surprisingly shakes his head no, "Good. So, for the first part, everyone will be seated in the living room. The two finalists will be situated in the two lounge chairs and all the jury members will be on the surrounding sofas. First, Kyle and Tweek will make their opening pitches to the jury, telling them why they think they are the most deserving to win the game and the $500,000 that goes along with it. The jury will then, one by one, get a chance to ask a question to one or both of the finalists. You can ask them the same question or give them different ones. Hell, you don't even have to ask a question at all – you can just make sassy comments. There's pretty much no time limit, as long as it's entertaining and relevant to the season," Token elaborates, addressing Clyde's raised hand in the process; Clyde quickly lowers it down, "After everyone has gotten a chance to address the finalists, Kyle and Tweek will each get an opportunity to make their closing remarks, then the jury will vote," he concludes with a clap of his hands, "Are there any questions?" Everyone shakes their heads, "Excellent. I'm happy that you all decided to abide by these arbitrary rules that I just made up on the spot," he sasses with a snap of his fingers. "The winner will also receive the Big Brother trampoline! Sure, it has a little bit of water damage and a raccoon family living underneath it, but hey, free trampoline!" he enthusiastically emphasizes, cueing the cricket to chirp. Token's face falls with a sigh, "Alright, fine. Everybody, take your places, and we will get started momentarily."

Clyde quickly slips over to Craig, who is following Tweek towards the coffee table. Clyde delicately nudges Craig in the side, trying to discreetly catch his attention, but Craig is so focused, he doesn't even notice. "Pst…Craig. Hey, Craig?" he harshly whispers. Clyde takes a seat down next to him as Tweek and Craig reluctantly separate once they reach the sofa, Craig sitting on the sofa end closest to Tweek's lounge chair. Craig sighs and opens his empty hand. Clyde pats him sympathetically on the shoulder, his other task instantly forgotten, "It's okay, bro."

Token smiles as he claps his hands, the setup finally complete as he stares down at the two remaining competitors. Cartman, Butters, Kenny, and Stan are sitting on the sofa closest to Kyle while Craig, Clyde, Bebe, and Wendy are sitting on the sofa closest to Tweek. "Alright, this is it. The final showdown between Kyle and Tweek, arguably two of the best players that this show has ever seen."

"Liar!" Cartman quickly hacks into his palm.

"Yes, you are," Token counters with a simper. "So, opening pitches. We're just going to go in alphabetical order. First or last name? It doesn't matter, cause it's still going to be the same order regardless. Kyle, you're first."

"Oh, thank you, Token," Kyle states as Token gives a vivacious nod and disappears into the bubble from which he came. Kyle smiles as he turns to his friends and fellow jury members, "Hey, everyone. This is absolutely insane. I never thought I would make it this far, especially not after last week. But I came into this house with a lot of emotional baggage, and I think it definitely made things tougher for me. But I'm not a quitter, and I turned things around. I made alliances, I won HOHs, I did everything I could to ensure that I would last far in this game. I know I hurt a lot of people along the way, and I apologize if you were one of them. My intention was never to hurt anybody. This is a game for $500,000, and I wanted to win, just like I'm sure all of you did too. And I had to get a lot of blood on my hands to get to where I am today. Feel free to ask me anything, I have nothing to hide, and I'll answer all your questions to the best of my ability. And I really hope, after it's all said and done, that you'll consider voting for me tonight. Thank you," Kyle concludes with a hearty exhale, feeling like he's never talked this much in his life.

Token smiles and nods, the jury scarily focused on the final two. "Good. Thank you, Kyle. Tweek, you're next."

"Okay," Tweek gulps and looks out at the crowd. His gaze lingers slightly on Craig, calming him instantly. "Hi. I haven't spoken to many of you in this intense of a setting in a long time, but I'm glad this is happening because this'll give me a chance to tell all of you where my head was at. I didn't come in here fifty-seven days ago thinking I was going to win. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I came in here content that I was going to lose – that I was going to be the worst Big Brother player that this game has ever seen. I thought I was going to be out of here Week 1 and that I was going to be a self-sacrifice for Craig. And I'll admit, I almost was. But as I went through this journey, I started to realize that I was deserving just like the rest of you. And I had as good of a shot as anyone else out here. I just needed to have confidence in my abilities, and that's something that I've struggled with my whole life," Tweek admits, looking like it pains him to say these words, "I know people came in here with a lot of preconceived notions about me: that I'm weak and that I wouldn't be able to do anything on my own. And when you hear things like that about yourself, there's really only two things you can do. You can let those thoughts destroy you from the inside out, or you can spin them into motivation to build yourself up. So, I took those perceptions and played into them throughout the game so that I could keep the target off my back. And I played in the background, and I stuck to what I believe was my strongest skillset, my ability to build relationships with others, so I never had to worry about whether my name came up or not. And it worked because I never received a single vote for eviction the two times I was on the block. There's a reason why I'm here, and it's not luck, and I hope I can prove that to you guys tonight. Thank you," Tweek squeaks, his face already sweating from the pressure.

"Wow, okay. Great job, everyone," Token praises from beside the coffee table, "It is now time for the jury questions. Up first is Kenny, and I, for one, can't wait to hear what he has to say. Kenny, whenever you're ready, there are the finalists," Token blatantly introduces, stepping back with a bow as the orange-clad man stands up and makes his way to the center of the room.

"Hey, guys! First of all, congratulations. I think you're both amazing players, and I am very happy that it came down to the two of you," Kenny proclaims, clasping his hands with a smile, "Now, obviously, I was out of the house the longest of anybody, so the answers that you give tonight are really important, so please try to answer them to the best of your ability," he advises, pausing to take a breather before turning to the finalist on the right, "Tweek, most of my questions this evening are going to be directed to you because, personally, I know Kyle's game better, and your game is still a bit of a mystery to me," Tweek nods, intently listening to his every word, "Now, I'll be the first to admit that I didn't really see you as a serious competitor until I saw your performance at the final HOH competition. You revealed so much about your game plan during the competition that I didn't even know, and not because I was the first one out, but because up until that moment, you were just so secretive about it. And I and pretty much everyone else on the jury – minus Craig – was shocked when you laid it all out. So, I want to give you the opportunity today to really tell everybody exactly what your strategy was in this game because honestly, I would really like to know. Because ever since that final HOH competition, my mind is just reeling with questions, and I'd love to hear the answers straight from the source."

"Alright," Tweek curtly nods, turning to the masses before diving into his explanation, "My strategy was actually pretty simple. I noticed early on that anyone who was perceived as strong or threatening – whether it be competitively, strategically, or socially – didn't last long. So in order for me to get further, I had to make sure that the people in power thought of me as the exact opposite of that. And I knew I had the perfect hand to pull it off," Tweek explains, narrowing in on Kenny, "Look, I knew what my reputation was coming in. I knew a lot of people were going to be focused on Craig because he has a more dominant personality, and they thought that I was going to be his puppet and be too terrified to even move. But a big part of this game is taking these preconceived notions and finding a way to use them to your benefit. I knew I wasn't anyone's number one target. I knew people saw me as weak and overly emotional. And like I said earlier, I also knew that anyone who was perceived as strong was going to be taken out immediately. So I played into the whole 'weak' narrative and built bonds behind the scenes so no one would take me out. My hope was that people would drag me along thinking that I would be an easy one to beat, only for me to steal the game right out from under their noses. When I reached the final three, all I needed to do was win, because I didn't trust either Kyle or Cartman. And let me tell you guys," Tweek speaks, turning back to the crowd at this declaration, "winning that challenge was probably the hardest thing I've ever done, especially mentally speaking. We were eight weeks into the competition. I was so tired both physically and emotionally. And it's tough when every fiber of your body is screaming at you to give up, and you're competing against the guy who spent the whole game telling you that you weren't deserving," Tweek states, veracity in his tone. Suddenly, Tweek pauses, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He blinks twice and stares back up at Kenny, his voice laced with emotion, "A lot of times when you hear something over and over again, you start to believe it, even if deep down you know it isn't true. And I hate to say it, but despite everything I had done in the game up to that point, I was seriously doubting myself that last week. But then, when I was standing there in that final HOH, death-gripping that key, it hit me. I remembered everything I did – every move, every heartache, and every struggle – and I realized that Craig was right; I am strong, and I deserve to be here."

"I agree," Kenny replies, after opening his mouth a few times like a puzzled fish, "And I also respect that you took the tougher, and in my opinion, more deserving competitor with you to the finals. Which leads me to the question that I think everyone on the jury has been wondering: Why did you take Kyle over Cartman? Because it seems to me, if you really wanted to win, you would've taken the fatass."

"AYE!" Cartman barks from the crowd.

Tweek turns back to Kenny and smiles, "So, I didn't take Cartman for two reasons: One, because of what he did to me and Craig, and two, because he was a big bully, and I didn't want to reward someone 50K for essentially being a dick to everyone."

"Right," Kenny agrees with a nod, "And no one takes out your man."

"Exactly," Tweek winks.

"So, I just have one more question for Tweek if no one minds," Kenny comments, glancing over his shoulder at the host.

Token nods and waves him on, "Go on. You're doing great, Kenny. Way better than most people on the staff thought you would."

Kenny cocks his forehead before turning back to the blonde finalist. "Okay, not sure what that means, but I'm just going to choose to take that as a compliment. Tweek," Kenny sighs, hoping to make some sense of his scrambled thoughts on the subject before he casts his vote, "watching you through this game, it seemed like you had trouble really identifying who you are. At the beginning of the game, you were very much attached to Craig and kind of playing underneath him," Kenny pauses slightly, snickering at the innuendo. He coughs and clears his throat, "Then when Craig was eliminated, you kind of latched on to Wendy. Even at the final HOH challenge, you were wearing their clothes, so my final question is: Who are you in this game?"

"I'm me. I'm Tweek Tweak, and that's why tonight I decided to dress as myself," Tweek replies, pulling at the sleeves of his classic olive-green button up, "But I think that assessment of my game is a little misleading because honestly, no one can win this game on their own, and anyone who says that they can, has never played it. You need people around you who will support you, and you need to be able to tap into that inner strength. Because at the end of the day, Big Brother is a social game. It's about the relationships that you build and the people that you step on to get to the top. I don't think you need to be a physical powerhouse to win this game; I don't think you even need to be a strategic powerhouse to win this game; you just need people who are going to root for you and who want to see you win based on how you treated them. So when people like Kyle and Cartman were scheming over how they were going to eliminate all the threats, I was forming relationships with the people they were trying to go after. And all those bonds I built were real. I don't fake relationships," Tweek states, speaking with such conviction, Kenny shivers, "So that's me; that's who I was in this game."

"Okay," Kenny steps back, seemingly satisfied by his answer, "That's all I needed to know."

"Alright. Thanks, Kenny," Token chimes, boastfully standing behind the leftmost sofa, already enjoying the show. "Bebe, you are next," Token comments, clapping his hands and rubbing them together in eager anticipation.

"Excellent!" Bebe chimes, carefully sitting up out of her seat and sashaying over to the contestants like a woman on a mission. "Hey, guys," she greets, hand on her hip like a boss, "Tweek, I am going to start by saying something that Cartman doesn't have the balls to say himself and that is that I was completely wrong about you," she states, Tweek's eyes lighting up at this supposed compliment, "I thought you were going to be an early boot, who was too scared to do anything without his boyfriend. So, when I found out that you were essentially the puppet master of the season, I almost couldn't believe it. But when I really looked back at this journey and all the time I spent with you, it all made sense. I think your 'play by perception' strategy was brilliant because no one even thought about putting you on the block during the first half of the game, and even when you were finally put up in the second half, you were used as a pawn," she raves, her earrings sparkling in the lights, "You were making moves without anyone knowing you were doing it and playing arguably the two strongest players in the house by capitalizing on their weaknesses. You used Cartman's delusion and Kyle's ego to take you as far as it could, then won your way to the finals. Regardless of what happens tonight, you should be very proud of what you accomplished."

"Thank you," Tweek nods, struggling to restrain his tears.

"Now I do have a question for both you and Kyle. My question is: Why do you think you deserve the five-hundred-thousand-dollar prize over your opponent?" Bebe asks, gesturing to the leftmost finalist, "Kyle, I'm actually going to let you go first here because you surprisingly haven't talked yet this segment."

Kyle nervously chuckles, "Thank you, Bebe. Um, I think from the very beginning, I didn't come from the best odds. I was emotionally fractured and still grieving the loss of my previous relationship. But I still prevailed, I still found a way to succeed. I definitely think I influenced the course of this game the most out of anyone. I won multiple challenges; I was directly responsible for key evictions – and everybody knew it, but I still managed to keep my threat-level low and stay off the block. And I had most of the other strategists on my side, so they would never go after me. It's one thing to play in the shadows and survive; it's other to play in the sun and still make it to the end."

Bebe nods, clearly taking in every word, "Okay. Tweek, same question. Why do you think you deserve the title more than Kyle?"

"Because I think I played this game harder than anyone, and I did it in a way no one has ever seen before," Tweek answers, as serious as someone who just confessed to murder, "I was playing around the clock. I formed genuine connections with everybody here, and I made sure that every single person who walked out of this house didn't hate me. I was loyal to those who were loyal to me, and I took this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to really dig deep inside myself and grow as a person, so that I leave here better than when I walked in nine weeks ago. I played hard and I played well, and I'm proud of that," Tweek states with a firm nod, "On the flipside, I think that Kyle had a lot of missteps along the way: the whole you vs. Clyde fiasco, the Wendy vote off. Kyle talks about how he had power, but he didn't use it as effectively as he could have," Tweek reveals, Kyle popping his eyes at this claim.

"And you're saying that you played flawlessly?" Kyle questions, already feeling rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

"I never said that. I just think, in terms of missteps, I didn't have any," Tweek shrugs, immediately redirecting his attention to the jury, who is just eating this drama up, "I really tried to take advantage of every opportunity I was given and created many on my own. I knew what was going on in the house because I was actually talking to people and observing what was happening. And as a person who barely sleeps and works at a crappy coffee shop, I'm pretty good at both of those skills. And I can tell you firsthand just how important observation is in this game. It revealed a lot to me. It showed me who was working together and who wasn't and who I needed to form a closer bond with to keep myself here longer. It's one thing to make moves when you are given power, it's another thing to be able to make moves when you seemingly have none. And I was able to make a lot of moves when I was just a houseguest, even while I was on the block."

Bebe smiles, basking in the game analysis. "Man, you guys are really not going to make this decision easy for me, are you?" the finalists laugh, "So, I just have one last thing I want to say, and it's directed towards Kyle. And it just kind of explains where my head's been at regarding your gameplay. Kyle," Bebe begins, clasping her hands and gesturing to him, "for most of the game, you were doing fantastic. I know you had a bit of a shaky start, but I don't fault you for that given the circumstances. Your middle game, in my opinion, was almost flawless: you won comps, you had a great social game, compelling strategy, the works," Bebe lists on, looking like she is about to dive a knife in his back at any moment, "And then Week 7 happens, and I lose all respect for you. Look, I get that this is a game, that's why I wasn't bitter when I was voted out, but to play with someone's emotions like you did – someone who experienced the same hardships that you did earlier in the game – was heartless and disgusting. And the thing is you didn't have to play that way at all. You could've just told Wendy straight up, 'hey, I'm voting for you' instead of blindsiding her at the last second. I told myself before I came here today that I was going to be open-minded and really listen to what you two have to say before I cast my vote. And that's why I'm giving you, Kyle, an opportunity to explain yourself," Kyle nods with a gulp, "Because honestly, I would feel much better about giving you my vote, if you weren't in bed with the devil the whole game." She gestures to Cartman.

Kyle sighs, Bebe's words shattering him like a wrecking ball. "This game is a constant struggle between your head and your heart, and sometimes you have to be the bad guy and make the decisions that aren't the most popular with the jury. And I found myself in that position a lot this season. That doesn't mean that what I did was okay, but in order for me to make it here, I had to send Wendy home. Looking back, I definitely shouldn't have kissed her that day, but there's nothing I can do about that now except apologize to her the next time I get the opportunity," Kyle replies with a nod, looking like he just got caught shoplifting.

"Okay. I'm good," Bebe tells Token. She walks back to her seat and sits down next to Wendy, whose eyes now hurt from all the eye rolling she did throughout Kyle's segment.

"Thank you, Bebe. Insightful as always," Token comments as he turns to the opposite raven, "Stan, you're next."

Stan takes a deep breath as he heaves himself out of his seat, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He turns to the two finalists, his face stone cold. "I just want to say something to my fellow jurors before we continue here," he states, glaring at the sofa which Bebe and Wendy are residing, "Personally, I think it's kind of ridiculous that Kyle is getting all this fleck for all these moves when Tweek played just as dirty as he did. The only difference is he wasn't man enough to do it publicly." Craig rolls his eyes, "So, take that comment how you will. Like my other fellow jurors, I'm actually going to spend most of my time talking to Tweek because honestly, Kyle's game was so crystal clear, I don't have any questions. So Tweek, the issue I have with you is that it appears as though you didn't really start playing until after Craig was eliminated, fair assessment?"

"No. I don't think that's a fair assessment at all. I was always playing, but I was more behind the scenes," Tweek elaborates, staring fearlessly into Stan's eyes, "And sure, when Craig was eliminated, I kicked it up a notch. But social strategy is very difficult to track and hard to measure, but I was building relationships and alliances that ended up helping me out in the long run since the very beginning. Coming into this game, I knew I wasn't the fastest or the smartest or the strongest, so I had to adapt and find a strategy that worked for someone like me. In this game, perception is so important. I knew if I could make myself appear weak and non-threatening to the other competitors, they would keep me around for as long as possible while I played socially in the background. I knew I could never play the game like Kyle did. I'm not a backstabby person; that's just not who I am," Tweek says, Kyle frowning at this claim, "I went into this game trying to help my friends, but you can only play the game like that up to a certain point. That point for me was when Craig was eliminated. Big Brother is an individual game, and you have to be selfish if you want to win. Halfway through, Kyle and Cartman were dominating the HOHs, so I knew I had to step things up and fall into their perception of me if I wanted to stay. Going into Week 6, I knew that Wendy and Bebe had a final two deal – they told me about it – so it didn't make sense for me to try to win the HOH competition because one, it would've made me a target and jeopardized my strategy, and two, the two of them being split was actually in my best interest," Tweek states, Bebe nodding along from the sidelines, "Of course, I felt bad; I felt bad every time I had to make a tough decision in the game. But, like everyone else, I wanted to win, and they understood that…I mean, that's one of the reasons why we're friends. We're all very determined," Bebe smiles.

"Okay, so you were nice to their faces, but secretly stabbing them when their backs were turned?" Stan questions, clearly unimpressed by Tweek's answer.

"Stan, you know better than anyone that actions mean a hell of a lot more than words do in this game," Tweek speaks, his confidence unwavering, "I formed relationships and stuck by them even when I knew we didn't have the votes to save them, just to show them that they had my loyalty. Because this game isn't over when you're voted out, it's over once Token declares a winner."

"Uh-huh," Stan mutters, still not buying it, "And do you think you had an unfair advantage going into this game because you were playing with your boyfriend?"

"Emotionally speaking, having Craig here definitely helped with my anxiety, but game-wise, it didn't help at all. Craig and I actually agreed going into this that we were going to keep our gameplay and our relationship separate, so we didn't talk any strategy, and most of the time, we didn't even vote the same, so I don't think I had an unfair advantage going into this game, no. In fact, I think it gave me a disadvantage at times. Many votes, I was having an internal struggle between my head and my heart. I wanted to protect him, but I also wanted to position myself in a good place so I could win. And having the both of us here and being the only long-term couple put a target on our backs day one."

Stan nods, although it's clear that he tuned Tweek out a few minutes ago, "So, essentially, it was difficult having your boyfriend here because you didn't want anyone to think that Craig was holding your hand every step of the way?"

Tweek shakes his head, choosing to ignore Stan's bizarre word twisting tactic and instead focusing on driving his point home, "I made every decision on my own, and I made decisions that would benefit me. And yes, even something as trivial as me covering myself with coffee during the Week 2 food competition was part of my strategy," Tweek states, speaking more to the other jury members than to what he now deems as a lost cause, "In that particular case, it was so people would focus less on my capabilities and pull through to win challenges. And after I won that final HOH after standing ten hours in the pouring rain and beating out the biggest comp beasts in the house, I think it was worth it."

"Alright," Stan coos, dramatically clapping his hands as he drifts his glassy stare to the host, "I think I'm good."

"Cool. Well, we're about halfway through, and we've already had some great soundbites so far," Token tells the masses, drooling as he thinks of those sweet, sweet ratings, "Let's keep it comin'. Donovan, you're up."

"Ooh, goody!" Clyde chimes, springing up out of his seat next to Craig. He struts to the front of the coffee table and gazes out at the two finalists. "Hey, everyone. First of all, congratulations. You should both be very proud of your accomplishments, but my only question for the evening is for Tweek. Tweek, now that you're more independent, are you going to dump Craig?" Clyde asks, an impish grin gracing his face. The entire room erupts into chuckles, minus Craig, of course.

Tweek wipes a single tear away from his eyes. "No, I am not going to dump Craig. I love him too much," he states sincerely.

"Nice. Just checking," Clyde clarifies, flashing Craig a friendly grin before diving into his spiel, "So, Tweek, day 27, you looked me in the eye, and you told me that you were going to vote for me. You knew it wasn't what I wanted to hear, but you still did it anyway. Looking back, that was the moment that I should've started seeing you as a true contender in this game. Because instead of taking the easy way out, caving into pressure, and lying to my face like a coward, you respected me enough as a player and as a person to tell me the truth. Well, now, I think it's time I tell everyone else the truth," Clyde pauses, his comment igniting a sea of bewildered faces. He steps back and turns to his fellow jury members, "As you guys all know, we all came here, into this house, on day one. But what some of you don't know is that the three of us: Craig, Tweek, and myself were actually told by Token beforehand that he was going to make this game purposely more challenging for us since we're his friends and he didn't want any of the other contestants to accuse him of favoritism. So, we were all coming into this at a disadvantage, which, to me, makes the fact that Tweek even made it to the end in the first place all the more impressive. Token purposely created HOH competitions that were catered to our weaknesses. The first and fifth HOHs were essentially Tweek's kryptonite, the first one testing stability and the latter a recipe for a panic attack, so he knew going into some of the competitions that he basically had no shot. But he still found a way to survive those weeks even without immunity, which is why I think Tweek is such a great player. Even the last and final HOH wasn't built to be Tweek's strong suit. It tested stability, something that would be nearly impossible for someone who could barely stand still in high school, and endurance, something that was really a question mark regarding Tweek going in, but he still dug deep inside himself and found a way to win when the odds were stacked against him from the start. And if you don't think that's impressive, then you need to reevaluate what that word means," Clyde stops to take a breather, the jury dead silent by Clyde's copious and surprisingly intelligent explanation. The brunette smiles and looks up at his friend, "Tweek, I told you right before I left that if you made it to the finals, it didn't automatically mean you'd get my vote. You'd have to earn it. You would have to prove to me that you played the superior game…and today, after seeing your entire game – everything you have said and done to get to this moment – I can wholeheartedly say that you have. Once again, congratulations to the both of you. And that's it, Clyde out!" he exclaims, snapping his fingers and slipping back onto the sofa, Tweek chuckling a bit at his exit.

"Clyde was a shot of sunshine, so let's bring on the salt. Wendy, you are up!" Token enthusiastically announces, gesturing with an overexaggerated wave of his hand. Kyle gulps as Wendy walks to the front of the room, the frown on her face so prominent it looks like she hasn't smiled in fifteen years.

Wendy clasps her hands together and sighs as she faces the finalists. "Before I begin, I just want to say, Kyle, I know you and I had a very tumultuous relationship in the house. I apologize if any of that came from me. I don't think you're a bad person; I really don't. And I know that you were going through a lot, and I hope that we can just put all this behind us for today and just focus on the game."

"Of course," Kyle swiftly replies, snatching it up before she can take it back, "Thanks, Wendy."

"You're welcome," Wendy chimes, the redhead still stunned that she isn't tearing him a new one, "So, game-wise, I think you did pretty well. You won a lot of the competitions; you were great at playing in the middle. The one thing that I'm struggling with is that, unlike Tweek, I don't feel like you were really in the driver's seat when it came to the big decisions," Wendy confesses, carefully articulating the thoughts that are spiraling in her head, "It seemed like most of the ideas came from either Tweek or Cartman, and you just kind of went along with what they said, even when it came down to you as the sole vote. And to me, that's the difference between a winner and a runner-up. Would you say that's a fair assessment?" she asks, cringing slightly at her mirror of Stan's words.

Kyle smacks his lips together lightly, seriously thinking this question over. "If you're talking about the decision to cut you, I mean, yeah, Cartman was the one who originally proposed it, but he wanted me to split you and Bebe way back in Week 4. And obviously, I didn't do that because I cared about you, Wendy, and I didn't want to jeopardize the relationship that we had. I let my heart get in the way, and I probably shouldn't have. But I made the decision to cut you at the final four, and that was 100% my own strategic move," he states, Cartman shaking his head and rolling his eyes at this statement.

"See? This is what sucks because it's day 57, the game is twenty minutes from being over, and you're still lying," Wendy fires, flipping the switch as anger dwells inside her, "You can't just take Cartman's idea, polish it off, then use it three weeks later and say it's your own."

"Uh, yeah, you can. That's kinda how this game works," Kyle retorts, teetering on the edge of anger and control, "It's one thing to say something, but it's another to actually do it. Cartman could've walked in here day one and been like: 'I'm going to ace every single challenge' but until he won that HOH necklace eight times in a row that statement would have no value. Actions speak louder than words, Wendy, you of all people should know that," Kyle bites, staring out at her challengingly.

Wendy scrunches her face, looking like he just pissed in her cobb salad. She crosses her arms, "So is this how you made all your strategic decisions then? You just took the ideas of others? Is that supposed to make me want to vote for you?"

"Oh, please!" Kyle cries, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, "You were never going to vote for me. You just wanted to come in here looking like the bigger person while secretly trashing me every chance you got!"

Everyone else in the room watches as the pair go back and forth for a good ten minutes, the duo getting more fired up as they combatively banter – fueled by their tenacity and the resounding need to be right.

"Uh…Token? Aren't you going to do something?" Stan wonders, hiding behind one of the couch cushions as the angry voices rage on.

Token shakes his head, "Please! This is exactly the kind of finale I was hoping for," he chimes as Cartman starts gleefully shoveling popcorn into his mouth nearby. The fatass reaches into his pocket mid-bite, takes out a camera, and snaps a photo.

"Week 3, Stan betrays you and me in one of the worst possible ways imaginable. No one ever deserves that kind of treatment – not you, not me, not even fuckin' Cartman," Wendy states, the words so heavy she feels like she's going to choke, "And I remember when I talked to you later that week, and you told me that you never wanted to be like that. You never wanted anyone to ever experience the raw humiliation that you did when you caught Stan cheating. But I guess when Week 7 happened, you just threw that promise out the window, didn't you? You become a betrayer – you embraced your inner Stan, and you stabbed a knife in the back of the same person who experienced exactly what you had been through. You became the one thing that you worked so hard to detach yourself from this whole game. All I can say is I hope it was worth it. And I hope that I'm the one vote that gives Tweek the win over you," Wendy spits, a self-gratifying look on her face.

"Oh, get the fuck off your pedestal, Wendy. You have nothing over me. You took advantage of someone who was emotionally hurting just because you wanted a boyfriend!" Kyle screams, the jury cringing at the metaphorical shots fired.

Wendy rolls her eyes, choosing to ignore his words to dig into him some more, "You know, you talk about how you're such a great strategist – but you done goofed, Kyle. Cause if you were really a great strategist, the best player in the game wouldn't be sitting right next to you!" Wendy shouts, practically screaming in his face as Kyle continues to talk over her.

Finally, after five minutes of a screaming match scarier than when Clyde got into it with the taco vendor who skimped him out on hot sauce, Token stands up and blares his foghorn, silencing the duo in a heartbeat. "Okay, okay. You guys are just going to have to agree to disagree here," Token states, hoping to act as the voice of reason, "Damn…I never knew there was so much unresolved tension between you two," the host comments, his mouth still slightly ajar with awe, "Wendy, please move on and ask something to Tweek if you need to."

"Alright," Wendy answers, a devious glint in her eyes as she turns to her former alliance member. He straightens up in his seat when they make eye contact, "Tweek, I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me straight up: Am I a joke to you?" she smirks.

Tweek shakes his head, biting back a smile at their inside joke. "Hell no, girlfriend."

"Thank you," Wendy completes with a flashy bow. She swerves on her heel and takes her seat, walking by a smorgasbord of confused faces.

Token sits in silence, taking a few moments to regain his sanity before calling in the next juror. "Okay…well, continuing with the shitstorm, here's Cartman!" he announces, rubbing his aching forehead as the fatass boastfully stands up and saunters into the spotlight.

Cartman turns and flings his velvet cape to the side, eyeing the two finalists – Tweek and Kyle, the latter of whom is still steaming like a carrot. "Hello, everyone," he sinisterly coos, licking his lips like he's about to devour them whole, "I'm back. And I feel like my vote could make or break either one of you. I played with the two of you for fifty-six days, so don't you dare try to bullshit me. Kahl, you're taking the credit for my moves, dude, but you know what? That's kewl, cause I'd rather you win than Mr. Cheater Pants here," Cartman states, gesturing to Tweek, who barely raises an eyebrow at the jab, "I mean, he didn't do anything except be a fuckin' cheater! How does it feel being the biggest fuckin' cheater that this game has ever seen, spaz? I bet you feel so proud of yourself that you out-cheated the rightful winner, huh? Huh? HUH? – Oww!" Cartman cries after Craig delivers a swift blow to his arm. The fatass sniffs and rubs his fragile bicep as Craig takes his seat back next to Clyde.

Token sighs and bathes in the brief silence, "Thank you, Craig."

Cartman sniffles, his ego deflating slightly but still nowhere close to the size of a normal human's. "Anyway, I find it funny that you two can sit here and boast about your supposed brilliance when arguably everyone knows the best player of the game was yours truly. Right guys?" Cartman turns to the other jurors. Everyone is silent, including the cricket that is perched on the windowsill. Cartman clears his throat, "But because I am oh so fair, I'm not going to slam the door on you yet, spaz. I'll give you a shot, but you have to tell me why I should give you the honor of receiving my vote this evening. And really kiss my ass in your answer," he gloats.

Tweek shakes his head, "I'm not kissing your ass," he states, scary fast.

"Psh! Spoken like a true adversary," Cartman butts in with a roll of his eyes.

"You're not my adversary."

Cartman cocks his forehead, looking like someone just shit out of their mouth, "I'm not your biggest adversary?"

"No, I actually think my biggest adversary was myself. This game is a challenge mentally, and there were so many times where I had to find a way to push down those negative thoughts and keep going. I mean, I didn't even think I could win this until Week 8. But I got here, and I'm really proud of myself for it," Tweek explicates, dialed in on his game strategy.

"Quit doing that! Quit skewing what I say and making it about you – that's witchcraft!" Cartman screams, pointing at Tweek like he's the devil and he's about to douse him in Holy water, "He's a witch! Burn him!" he proclaims, holding out his Faith +1 necklace for protection.

Token facepalms, "What the hell is with this jury segment? All you guys had to do was just ask the finalists questions. Is that really so hard?"

"Apparently it's rocket science," Craig mutters from the opposite sofa, causing the host to pull his head up from between his legs and sigh.

"Cartman, do you have anything meaningful to say, or should I just move on to the next juror?"

"Do I have anything meaningful to say?" Cartman huffs, "Everything that comes out of my mouth is goddamn poetry! I even made this list of reasons why everyone on the jury should scrap their votes and vote for me instead," he claims, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a paper scroll. He unravels it, the other end rolling to the floor and striking the side of the coffee table, "Number one-"

"-Okay, yeah, it's time to move on. Security, please show Cartman to his seat," Token instructs, gesturing the two burly security guards to the center of the living room.

They trudge over, lift Cartman like he's a leaf, and carry him back to the sofa. "THIS IS BLASPHEMY, TOKEN! QUIT FEEDING LIES TO THE PUBLIC!" Cartman screams while he is carried across the carpet. Cartman grunts and voices his muffled complaints after they secure the muzzle back on.

"That thing cost a hundred dollars, but it was worth every penny," Token praises, making sure to flash the brand of the muzzle to the camera so everyone can buy one. Token smacks his lips together and turns to his leader, "Alright, Lord Sexington. Let's hear the sass."

Craig nods and says nothing as he paces over to the center of the room. He smiles as he locks eyes with Tweek for a split second, before quickly scanning over the other jurors. "There are three things, in my opinion, that make someone a great Big Brother player – and they are strategic, physical, and social dominance. And Tweek possessed them all," Craig reveals, gesturing to his boyfriend, "His strategic maneuvering to get himself to the end was insane, especially since he only won HOH once. His win at the final HOH competition was the most impressive performance we've seen all season, and that's not even counting the fact that he duped us by throwing the comps," Craig states, pointing at Tweek with a playful smirk. Tweek laughs, "His jury management was top-notch, I don't think one person on this jury – minus Cartman – had anything bad to say about him while we were in the jury house, and that includes the time before I got there," Craig adds, narrowing in on Stan on the sofa before he can open his mouth, "Not only that, but his relationships with all the evicted houseguests showed heart. Even Wendy, who he indirectly caused the eviction of, has been singing his praises since the moment she left the game. And the way Tweek played and carried himself while he was in the house only made everyone here want to root for him more. All these things take skill; all these things take a great player to pull them off, and we definitely have one, so don't be bitter, and give Tweek his credit."

"Honey," Craig breathes, clasping his hands as he smiles at Tweek, "I knew coming into this that you were a good player. The moments that I got a glimpse of your gameplay while I was still in the house only proved it. But the level that you were playing at was so far above mine that I didn't realize the extent of it until you revealed it all at the final HOH competition. I didn't know that you had ties all over the house, I didn't know that you were throwing almost all the challenges, I didn't know that you were purposely forcing ties to get information on your competitors – hell, I didn't even know you were influencing me for the Butters vote. Looking back, I'm probably the least surprised of anyone here on the jury because I always knew you were a badass. And if it wasn't obvious before, it sure as hell is now. Congratulations, babe. You are strong, and you fuckin' proved it. I love you, and I'm so proud of you, and that's all you need to know."

Tweek watches as Craig walks back to his seat, the blonde wiping a single tear from his cheek on his boyfriend's journey to the sofa. "Thank you, Craig. Butters, you are last up," Token announces, narrowing in on the platinum blonde, who is wedged between Cartman and Kenny on the center sofa cushion, "So, whenever you're ready, please deliver your speech to the jurors."

"Okey-dokey!" Butters chimes, springing out of his seat and bouncing over to the two finalists. "Hey, fellas!" Butters jovially greets with a clap of his hands, "This may surprise the both of ya, but I got nothin' to say. After hearing everything I've heard from you fellas and everyone else throughout the season, I know exactly who I'm voting for. So congratulations to that person, and I will elaborate on my reasons right before I reveal my vote. Thank you," Butters states with an awkward curtsy before flying back to his seat. Token turns to the others, blinking twice in shock.

"Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that, but this season is full of surprises," Token comments while Butters laughs from the sofa, "Before we vote, I'm going to give Kyle and Tweek one last meaningless opportunity to try to sway the votes in their favor – I call it meaningless because I think it's pretty clear by now that most of the jurors already have their minds made up. But closing statements are an important part of the final voting ceremony, so Kyle, whenever you're ready, feel free to address the group," he instructs, gesturing to the redhead.

Kyle nods and turns to the masses, who are all still paying attention, "Hey, guys. I didn't get a lot of questions this evening, but I'm going to hope that's a good thing – like Stan said, and that it's because my game was pretty self-explanatory. I don't have much else to say except that I hope all of you give me a shot. I think I played really competitively and to the best of my ability. And I maintained power for most of the game, which is incredibly hard to do. So for all those reasons, I really hope you consider putting my name down tonight. Thank you."

"Alright. Tweek, closing statement. Let's go," Token snaps, hoping to move this ceremony along before Clyde falls asleep on his shoulder.

"Okay. First off, thank you, everyone, for taking the time to ask us questions, I thought they were all very good," Tweek states, before diving into the meat and potatoes of his final argument, "As you guys know, I came into this experience not thinking I had a shot. Even my own parents didn't believe in me; I had to do this all myself. It was Week 8, and no one would take me to the finals…and every week building up to it got tougher and tougher. I had to vote out friends and go up against my boyfriend. I had to watch one of the people I respect the most in the world break down in front of me," Tweek explains, gesturing to Wendy, "But I don't want you to vote for me out of pity or as revenge against Kyle, I want you to vote for me because you truly believe I earned it. And I hope after tonight that you do," he concludes, giving a confident nod to the crowd.

"Great job to the both of you. Some really good stuff there," Token notes as he fiddles with a button on his universal remote, "Alright, let's bring in the key box!" he exclaims, enthusiastically throwing his hands towards the diary room.

Everyone watches as the two hefty security guards walk into the living room. One of them is carrying a gigantic key box while the other is hauling in a pompous and, in Cartman's opinion, rather gaudy podium. The fatass whistles as the guard sets the podium in the center of the room. The podium is the same one that was at the final HOH competition, only it's been washed, refurbished, and decorated with a collage of photos highlighting all of the most memorable moments of the season.

"Wow! How many interns did it take to do that?" he asks, his muzzle long discarded and kicked under the sofa.

"Seventeen," Token gloats, leaning triumphantly back. Cartman whistles once more. "Alright, jurors," Token says once the guard gently sets the key box on the podium and quickly exits the premises with his partner, "In just a moment, I will call each of you separately to the diary room to cast your votes for a winner. When you walk into the diary room, you will find two keys sitting on the table – one for Kyle and one for Tweek. You will grab the key for the person you want to win Big Brother and put it in the key box in your designated spot, thus casting your vote. The keys have their names etched into them, so it's kind of hard to mess this up, but I'm sure some of you will find a way," Token sasses with a snap of his fingers, "Anyway, once everyone has completed this task, I will haul the box over here, and one by one, you will reveal your votes. If there is a tie, the winner will be determined by the viewers!" Token declares, dramatically holding up a shiny silver envelope. The spectators' eyes widen, flabbergasted by this twist, "Hey, they've been watching all season; they know what's going on," Token smirks, "So, if one of you could help me haul this box back into the diary room, that would be super helpful," he states, awkwardly staring out at the jurors. All at once, everyone turns in various directions, avoiding Token's gaze at all costs. "Jesus Christ, you guys are useless!" he complains.

Clyde smiles, still comically avoiding the host's gaze to circumvent any additional work, "We love you too, Token!"

Chapter Text

"Hello, everyone!" Token greets in his boisterous announcer tone as he clasps his hands and turns to the central camera, "We are back for the live vote reveal. As you can see, the key box is standing here in front of me," he states, theatrically gesturing to the colorful box that is standing on the podium by the short end of the coffee table, "So kudos to Kenny for tricking Stan and Craig into competing against each other to carry this over here."

"Who won?" Stan calls out from the sofa.

Token laughs and raises his eyebrow, "It was a tie," Stan frowns as Token faces forward and eyes the two remaining houseguests, "Now, we are gathered for the last time this season to declare the first-ever winner of Big Brother. You know, there's been plenty of laughs and plenty of cries – plenty of houseguests who have eyes," the host pauses and smirks, his white teeth sparkling from the ceiling lights, "And now you can get that slogan on a t-shirt, so definitely check that out on our website," he not-so-subtly advertises, before clearing his throat, "Anyway, before we get started, I just want to thank everyone for making this show what it is – especially me. God knows we couldn't have done it without my expertise," he brags; Cartman rolls his eyes behind him. "But seriously, if it weren't for the cast members and crew and you the viewers, I never would've been able to afford my second vacation home. So thanks, everybody, for making me even richer!"

"Jesus Christ, Token. You really are the worst person I ever met," Cartman gruffly grunts, crossing his chubby arms in a huff, "No wonder why Nichole left you."

"HEY! THAT WAS A MUTUAL DECISION, AND YOU KNOW IT, FATASS!" Token sneers, his rage-filled outburst causing a few of the houseguests to flinch. Token turns his back to the camera and takes a deep breath. He counts to three and releases a calming exhale, feeling serenity flowing back through his veins. Token turns to the contestants and gives his best lighthearted chuckle before easing back into the task at hand. "So, there are eight keys in this key box," he states, gently tapping the surface, the jurors and the finalists zoned in on the podium, "It takes five to win the crown. If a winner is declared before all the votes are read, that's okay – the remaining jurors will still have an opportunity to reveal their votes. If there is a 4-4 tie, the winner will be determined by the viewers' vote, which is sealed in this mystery envelope," he states, holding it up proudly.

"Ooh, shiny!" Clyde awes, his pupils dilating.

"Yes. Quite," Token nods, rubbing his palms together in eager anticipation, "Now, without further ado, it is time for the jury to reveal their votes. Jurors, you know how this works," Token begins, turning to the eight individuals who are situated on the surrounding sofas, "When I call your name, you will walk up to the key box, address the finalists, and reveal your vote. If there are no more questions, Kenny, why don't you get us started?" Token announces, stepping back from the podium and taking his seat on the arm of the leftmost sofa.

"Righty-o!" Kenny beams, clapping his hands as he springs out of his seat. He saunters over to the key box, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his lip, like he's about to unwrap a double bacon cheeseburger. "Hey, guys. It's great to see everybody again. I think you both did outstanding, but I could only vote for one of you," Kenny begins, the finalists watching with bated breath as he carefully pulls up the golden key from his slot, "So, I voted for Kyle because I believe he was the best strategic player this season and he had the tougher journey, going through a whopping three breakups over the course of this game. So, congratulations, buddy!" Kenny beams, passing by a smiling Kyle on his way back to his seat.

"Alright. Kyle, you received the first vote and are up 1-0," Token recaps to the masses, "Stan, if you're finished glaring at Craig, it's time for you to reveal your vote," he states, Stan widening his eyes and sweatdropping at the callout. He stands up from his seat and awkwardly shuffles over to the key box.

Stan stops, narrows in on the redheaded finalist, and sighs, "Kyle, day one I promised I would stick by you and I'm a man of my word in that regard, so…my vote is for you," Stan says, pulling out his golden key, which has Kyle's name etched into the side, "I love you, man," he sincerely confesses, tearing up a bit as he reveals this to the world.

Kyle nods, unsure of what to say as he feels ten sets of eyes staring at him, "Oh. Um, thanks."

"Rejection…" Craig whispers, causing Stan to snap his neck around and shoot his rival a glare.

"Ookay, um, that was certainly something. But Kyle is now leading this vote, 2-0," Token clarifies, hoping to talk through all the awkwardness and really get this ball rolling, "Alright, fatass. Let's hear your delusional spiel."

"AYE! It's not delusional, it's 100% grounded in truth!" Cartman shouts, pulling himself up off the sofa with an angry puff. He waddles over to the podium and stands behind it, determined to make a stand, "Well, Token wouldn't let me vote for myself," Cartman scoffs, giving the host the side-eye, "so, I had to settle and vote for the person who had the closest game to mine," the fatass reaches forward, lifts his key up, and lackadaisically flashes the name to the camera, "Here you go, Kahl. You owe me $450,000," he grunts, plopping the key down on the coffee table. Craig shakes his head as Cartman flops back down on the sofa cushion.

"Well, I was not expecting this, but the vote is now 3-0. Kyle, you need just two votes to win," Token states, turning to the leftmost finalist, who gives the host a firm nod, "Tweek, in order for you to win, you must receive all five of the remaining votes." Tweek nods in understanding, tearing up at his impending failure. The blonde sniffs, looking like he is about to burst into tears at any moment. "Alright, Lord Sexington. Quit looking like a nervous wreck and get over here," Token instructs, gesturing Craig forth towards the podium.

Craig gulps and quickly stands up, his legs wobbling like gelatin as he makes his way over to his key. He takes a deep breath, his nerves dwindling a tad when he locks eyes with his boyfriend. "Hey, honey," Craig anxiously greets, nervously shoving his hands into his tuxedo pockets, "Fifty-seven days ago, we came into this house as boyfriends, and we didn't really know where this game would take us," Craig states, sweating profusely under the ceiling lights. He pauses to take a breather, running his fingers through his dark hair as his heart pounds frantically in his chest. "I'm sorry, just give me a minute," Craig says, turning away from the crowd.

Tweek slowly stands up from his lounge chair in concern, gazing out at his usually impassive boyfriend – everyone else around him just melting away in his mind as he zones in on his bae. "Craig, are you okay?" he asks, clasping his hands with Craig's own like magnets.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Craig confesses, barely able to look at him, "Just-babe, I am so in love with you."

Tweek sniffles, an endearing smile shining on his face, "I am so in love with you too."

Craig swallows, his eyes landing on Clyde, who gives him an encouraging double thumbs up from the sofa. The stoic exhales and turns courageously back to his boyfriend, who hasn't taken his eyes off him since Craig got to the podium. "Tweek, I am so proud of you. You have no idea. When I saw you after you wet your pants and were all covered in vomit after you stood up against Cartman, I swear I was never more attracted to you in my life."

"Aww, Craig," Tweek coos, tearing up a bit.

"I mean it. I can't live without you, babe. And I don't want to try," Craig breathes, winded as he pushes out these words.

Tweek cocks his forehead, never seeing his boyfriend so choked up before, "Are you dying or something?"

"Well, we're all slowly dying, but I'm not dying any quicker than usual," Craig quips through an awkward smile, "Sorry, I know that wasn't very comforting, but the point is I love you, Tweek," Craig admits, tearing up through his confession while Clyde looks on like a proud uncle behind him, "so much, and if you'll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life with you," Craig reveals, shaking as he kneels in front of Tweek. The blonde gasps and turns to the other jurors, who are all watching with a mix of excited and flabbergasted expressions. Tweek gazes back down at his boyfriend, who is now tenderly holding onto his hand as he uses his spare hand to scrounge through his coat pocket, "Tweek Tweak, will you marry me?"

"Oh my God, are you serious?" Tweek squeaks, covering his mouth with his hand, hoping to ease their nerves with a quip, "And did you seriously just use the word vomit in a marriage proposal?" he smiles.

Craig laughs, "I told you I was going to do it Week 1, and I meant it, babe," he states, still searching through his pockets for the ring, "Goddammit! Now, what did I do with that thing?"

"Ah…so that's why you left the house," Stan remarks while Clyde is on the verge of happy tears across the room.

"Don't worry! I got you, bro," Clyde promises, pulling out the fuzzy black box from his jacket pocket and handing it to his best friend. A wave of relief washes across Craig's face once he holds it.

"Thank you, Clyde," Craig sincerely says through a sigh, "You're the best friend a guy could ask for." Clyde's face lights up like a Christmas tree at this praise. Craig turns back to Tweek and holds the box out to him. "Tweek, will you-?"

"-Yes!" Tweek chimes, his eyes wide in excitement.

Craig simpers, "You didn't even see the ring."

"Screw the ring; I want you!" Tweek practically screams, accidentally knocking the ring box out of Craig's hand as he lunges, pulling Craig into a passionate kiss. Craig moans as they start making out.

"Thank God he used that breath spray," Clyde comments while South Park's hottest couple continues to make out in front of them, "You really are a lifesaver, Bebe," Clyde states with a playful nudge.

Bebe boastfully straightens up in her seat, "I know," she beams.

"I don't understand, is this supposed to be romantic?" Stan wonders, cringing slightly at the display, "Cause I feel like I'm going to vomit!"

"Craig," Token sighs, standing up and cautiously approaching the entangled pair, who are seated on the floor. The host taps Craig on the shoulder, "Craig, come on, we gotta move this along. You gotta reveal your vote."

Craig pulls back slightly, still holding Tweek at arm's length as he stares up at his friend, "Oh, sorry."

The noirette slowly stands up and smooths his tux out as Tweek quickly fixes his unkempt hair beside him. Craig leans forward and pulls out his key. "I voted for Kyle," he smirks, "I'm just kidding, babe. I voted for you," he beams, turning his key and revealing his vote to the camera.

"Engagement over," Tweek jokes, a huge smile gracing his face as he walks back to his seat with his love, Craig quickly picking up the discarded ring box along the way – the pair soaring on cloud nine.

"Alright, with that exciting spectacle, the vote is now 3-1 in favor of Kyle," Token announces, clasping his hands and rubbing them together, "but here comes Miss Wendy Testaburger!" he exclaims, double pointing to the ravenness.

Kyle gulps as Wendy struts over to the key box. She turns to the finalists, a mischievous glint in her eyes while she places her hands on her hips. "Kyle, believe it or not, my vote wasn't sealed until ten minutes ago. I think you were outplayed in all aspects of the game by the person sitting next to you. Your strategic game was good, but Tweek's was legendary," Wendy states, trying to remain as emotionless as possible while she turns to her former alliance member, "Tweek, I think you were the ultimate underdog. I don't think anyone going into this – except for Craig – thought that you could do this, but clearly, we were wrong. It was an honor playing with you. It was an even bigger honor getting to know you. Congratulations."

Tweek nods, tearing up as these words sink in and she flashes him her key, "Thank you, Wendy," he squeaks, wiping a few tears off his cheek.

"Okay. Bebe, you are up. The vote is now 3-2 in favor of Kyle," Token states like clockwork.

Bebe smiles and stands up out of her seat, her emerald dress barely brushing against the carpet as she makes her way to the podium. She stops in front of it and flashes her picture-perfect smile. "Kyle, your game was impressive, but unfortunately you made one fatal mistake," she begins, giving a confident grin, "Week 5, Tweek and Craig are on the block, Craig comes up to you and tells you to vote him off. I don't know why the hell you listened to him," she states, earning a laugh from her fellow jurors, "But you had four weeks to fix it, and you didn't. And now the best player in the game is sitting next to you in the finals. As this game progressed, you weakened. He got stronger," Bebe says firmly, pointing to the blonde. Kyle nods, his gaze drifting to the floor, "Kyle, you played this game like a machine, but Tweek played this game like a human being. And that's why he gets my vote," Bebe reveals, pulling her golden key out of the box and tactfully showcasing it to the camera.

"Thank you, Bebe," Token states, watching as the blonde bombshell makes her way back to her seat, "We're tied 3-3. That's how you can tell it's a great season," Token comments, smiling from ear to ear, "We have two votes left to reveal. Donovan, you're next."

"Whoo! YES!" Clyde cries, springing out of his seat and racing over to the podium like he's competing in the Denver Marathon. Clyde claps his hands and grins at the duo, "Hey, guys!" he eccentrically greets before diving right in, "Kyle, you did great. I think if it was anyone else sitting beside you, you would've had a winning game. Your journey was strategically impressive, but Tweek's journey had heart and made me want to root for him every step of the way, so my vote is for Tweek!" he beams, pulling the key up with his bro's name on it.

"Oh my goodness. It's 4-3 in favor of Tweek, and we only have one vote left. This is a dream scenario for a reality competition. I'm going to be swimming in money! This really couldn't have worked out any better for me," Token gushes as Clyde returns to his seat, passing by Butters, who is nervously approaching the podium, "Now Butters, you're the key. You know how high the stakes are. Your vote will either force a tie or crown a winner. Just as a reminder to the viewers at home, if Butters' vote is for Kyle, it will force a tie and we will consult the shiny silver envelope," Token proclaims, proudly holding it up in his palm, "If Butters' vote is for Tweek, then Tweek will become the first-ever winner of this game and receive the $500,000 grand prize that goes along with it. And – more importantly – the Big Brother trampoline," he boasts, gesturing to the backyard. The trampoline stands, slightly askew, with a small swarm of flies hovering around it, "So, Butters, whenever you're ready…" Token trails off with a showy, accentuated bow.

Butters nods, gulping once he realizes he has everyone's undivided attention. He turns to the finalists, anxiously tapping his knuckles together. Butters takes a deep breath and proceeds, "Okay, fellas. Before I reveal my vote, I just want to say that I think you all did a fantastic job playing this game, and you guys should be very proud. Honestly, you're both winners in my eyes. Kyle, you were a great strategic player; Tweek, you were great socially," he compliments gesturing from one to the other, "You took two completely different paths to the end and, gee, I respect the both of you so much. I just want you fellas to know that I've kept quiet on my views 'til this moment. I haven't told anybody how I'm voting, or any of my thoughts on the two of you. I came in here with an open mind. I had no idea who I was going to vote for coming into this ceremony because I wanted to give each of you fellas a fair shot," Butters pauses, taking a breather, the room dead silent around him as everyone present hangs on his every word, "In terms of the game, I think you both had obstacles to overcome and you both overcame them. Tweek, you targeting me Week 2 was a strategic move, as was me throwing your name out, so I'm not going to count that against you at all. It's part of the game. And I have no doubt if our roles were reversed that you would do the same for me," Tweek nods as Butters clasps his hands together.

"But because you fellas were so evenly matched, it all came down to one thing for me. There's only one thing I value more than the strategy, more than the money, more than all the HOH wins in the world…and that's how you treat other people. Particularly how you treat other people in your two highest extremes: when you have power and when your back is against the wall," Butters states firmly, his intensity causing Token to raise an eyebrow, impressed, "Now, just because I kept my perspective on the two of you secret, doesn't mean that I wasn't listening to what our fellow houseguests were saying. In fact, I was probably listening a lot more than some of these other people because, you know, I only spent two weeks with you fellas. And after living with the both of you, watching all the tapes, and gathering all the intel from my fellow jury members, I feel that one of you truly encapsulates everything that this game should stand for. But before I reveal who, I just want to share some things that I heard about the two of you."

Butters smiles and turns to the leftmost finalist, "Kyle, people called you fiery, they called you determined, one juror in particular said that you were a spineless jellyfish," Butters speaks, scrunching his forehead at the dig as Kyle does the same, "Now, I didn't think that was very nice, but to each their own, I reckon'. Tweek," Butters pauses, turning to his fellow blonde, "You were a bit different. There was one thing I kept hearing over and over again about you from the evicted houseguests. They said you were fearless. They said that you were strong…but not in the way most people expected," Butters recaps, swallowing before continuing on, "One juror said you were strong because of your insane endurance, another said you were strong because you let Cartman's comments just roll off your back, but the one that stuck out to me the most was one that a juror who came into the house sobbing said. They said you were strong because you made them feel heard when they were faced with adversity; you made them feel like they mattered; you were their rock when they thought their whole world was falling apart. And if you ask me, that's the kind of person who deserves the title. That's why today, I would like to be the first to congratulate Tweek for winning Big Brother!" Butters exclaims as he pulls out his golden key with Tweek's name on it, so moved, he is tearing up himself.

Tweek's jaw drops the second he sees his name on the key. He covers his mouth with both hands, hunches over in his seat, and sobs the happiest tears he has all season as all around him, the jurors start celebrating. The rightmost couch, featuring Craig, Clyde, Bebe, and Wendy, springs out of their seats to rush over to him while the leftmost couch follows close behind.

"And just to make it official: Congratulations, Tweek," Token attempts to shout over the abundance of cheers, "you have just been crowned the winner of Big Brother by a 5-3 vote and have won $500,000!"

"YEAH!" Craig pounces on Tweek, pulling him into a bear hug.

"I bet you're really glad you proposed to him now, huh?" Cartman remarks, the fatass standing next to Stan, who is giving a golf clap.

Kenny watches as Kyle's portrait fades to black and white, leaving Tweek's portrait the only color photo on the Memory Wall. Token smiles as he grabs Tweek's headshot and places it under the Wall of Winners, which had been empty until this very moment. He steps back, sighing in satisfaction as he admires his work.

"YES!" Clyde cheers, so excited that he is literally bouncing up and down on the carpet, "I told you Craig and Those Guys would prevail!"

"You did not! Tweek was a part of our group first!" Cartman reminds him, poking Clyde harshly in the shoulder.

Clyde shakes his head, "Nuh-uh. He hung out with us before you guys, and he left your group to join ours. Plus, he's Craig's boyfriend, so that means Tweek's one of us! Tie goes to the boyfriend, Cartman. I don't make the rules," he gloats with a smirk, turning commendably to his friend, who is now enveloped in a sea of hugs from both Craig and the girls.

Tweek pulls back once Kyle approaches, offering his hand out to the winner. "Congratulations, Tweek. You earned it," Kyle sincerely states with a smile.

Tweek shakes his hand and immediately pulls him into a hug, "Thank you, Kyle," he sniffs.

Rainbow confetti shoots into the air from the floor as the diary room door swings open. Kyle's face lights up when he sees his brother, Ike, darting over to him. "Ike!" Kyle chimes, the redhead instantly cheering up as he gives his bro a hug.

"Wow, Token, I'm impressed. This is probably the nicest thing you've done all season," Craig states, standing side by side next to the host with his arms crossed as he watches Kyle gleefully conversing with his brother.

"No, Craig," Token answers smugly, "That is," he emphasizes, nodding his forehead in the direction of the diary room door while behind him, Butters pulls Tweek into a hug.

Kyle freezes when Dee appears in the doorway, the pair speechless as few of the cast stops what they are doing to watch them. Kyle and Dee smile when they make eye contact, a gleeful excitement jolting through their bodies. In a matter of seconds, they simultaneously race over and meet in a long-awaited kiss, the action igniting an array of responses. Nearby, Stan shakes his head, Cartman glares, Wendy shifts uncomfortably, and Kenny shoots Kyle a thumbs up.

Kyle sniffles as he pulls away slightly, holding his girlfriend affectionately by the shoulders, their voices both at a whisper, "I just can't believe you did all that for me," he says, so overjoyed he feels like his heart is going to burst.

Dee tears up, cradling his face as she wipes the tears away from his eyes, Kyle's hands sliding down to her biceps, "Why? You make it so easy to love you," she confesses, leaning forward and kissing him again.

Token blinks twice, a small smile on his face as he watches Kyle and his former ex-girlfriend reunite. He turns to the side, his eyes glistening over his raven-haired friend and leader, "So, did you think about what I said?" he asks.

"Yeah, and there's no way I'm doing this again," Craig replies, staring straight ahead at the wall as they continue to stand side by side amongst the chaos.

"Well, you should," Token speaks in an uncharacteristically genuine tone, "It's time to start putting yourself first for once. Besides, I really think you could win. You could maybe even be one of the greats," he states, Craig immediately laughing at the ridiculousness of this statement. Token frowns, "Hey, I see potential. And I know Tweek does too," he chimes, pulling out the big guns before he sashays away in picturesque slow motion.

Craig stands alone, Token's words stunning him to his core. He watches in silent contemplation as the host heads across the room and over to his boyfriend.

Tweek sighs dejectedly as he stands at a distance, happy for his fellow finalist, but swirling in a hurricane of anxiety. "Please tell me you didn't bring my family to this," Tweek pleads, barely looking up at the host.

"Of course not, Tweek. I brought your real family," Token exclaims, turning cunningly towards the diary room door. "Come on in, guys!"

Tweek turns to the diary room, waiting in nervous anticipation as he prays to every god he knows that Token isn't up to his usual host trickery. His face lights up like a kaleidoscope when Craig's entire family comes barreling into the living room, followed by Jimmy, who crutches in behind the three Tuckers. Tricia is even holding Stripe, who Craig immediately snatches from her – more excited to see him than his sister and his own parents. "Stripe! I missed you, buddy!" Craig coos and starts nuzzling Stripe against his face.

"God, you are such an ass!" Tricia sasses, shaking her head at her brother's antics, complete with a roll of her eyes.

The Tuckers all take turns lavishing Tweek with praise and hugs, the winner tearing up from all the familial love and acceptance that he never received from his own parents as they congratulate him on both the win and his engagement.

After a short while, Craig pulls Tweek aside and whispers into his ear, "Do you have my hat?"

Tweek holds up the Stripe doppelgänger plushie, which is now sporting Craig's chullo on its almond-shaped head.

Craig chuckles, seemingly entranced by the display, "That's fuckin' adorable."

Tweek lovingly sighs as he pulls Craig into an embrace, holding him at arm's length, so he doesn't crush either Stripe. He smiles while he gazes into Craig's eyes, "Take me home, my Peruvian Prince!"

Craig cocks his eyebrow, "What was that, babe?"

Tweek pulls back slightly, blushing profusely at his accidental slip. "Nothing!"

"Well, that's a wrap!" Token announces, clapping his hands as he stands in the very center of the living room, an excited Clyde waving to the camera behind him – him and Kenny taking turns making funny faces into it, "What a perfect way to end this monumental season. I want to thank everyone for tuning in week after week to watch this crazy adventure. Join us next season where we make Cartman play with a house full of Jersey ginger Jews."

"Yeah…" Cartman agrees, next to the coffee table. He snaps his neck around, "Wait, what?!"

Token laughs and waves cheekily to the camera, "Goodnight, everybody!"

Chapter Text

"Craig, please don't bullshit me on this. I need you to tell me the truth," Tweek states, the tears stinging in the corners of his eyes as he clasps onto Craig's forearms, the pair sitting side by side in the hallway, "Do you honestly believe that? Do you honestly believe that out of all the talented, genius, Baywatch-attractive people in this house that I'm the winner?"

"Yes, I do," Craig answers firmly, without hesitation. Tweek releases a heavy sigh, shaking his head in disbelief as Craig gazes out at him, "Tweek, I knew the second we walked into this house that you were going to win this thing."

Tweek nose laughs. "Do you really think that I can outsmart Kyle? Or outplay Bebe? Or out-deceive Cartman? I can't even button my shirt correctly. This watch doesn't even fit me!" Tweek exclaims, dramatically holding his arm up in-point as the watch slides off his wrist.

"Those things don't matter," Craig tells him with a slight shake of his head, "Because that's not how you're going to win this thing, babe. You're going to win your way using your own strengths, not with anyone else's blueprint."

The pair lie still as a heavy silence washes over them, the atmosphere so tense that Tweek feels like he is going to choke. Tweek sniffs and wipes a few tears away with his fingers, "Come on Craig," he states solemnly to the floor, the blonde's voice barely above a whisper, "we both knew going into this that I never had a chance at the money."

Craig tilts his head, puzzled, "Why not?"

"Because my dad was right, okay?" Tweek cries, the heat rising up in his chest at this outburst, "I can't win this thing. I don't even deserve to be a part of the group. I'm not super tough like you or super smart like Token or super charming like Clyde or super funny like Jimmy. All I am is your boyfriend. Your freakish, twitchy boyfriend," Tweek sighs, "And that kind of person doesn't win this thing."

The scene transitions to Butters, who is standing at the podium moments before revealing his half-million-dollar vote, "That's why today, I would like to congratulate Tweek for winning Big Brother!" Butters exclaims as he pulls out his golden key with Tweek's name on it, so moved, he is tearing up himself.

Tweek's jaw drops the second he sees his name on the key. He covers his mouth with both hands, hunches over in his seat, and sobs the happiest tears he has all season as all around him, the jurors start celebrating. The rightmost couch, featuring Craig, Clyde, Bebe, and Wendy, springs out of their seats to rush over to him while the leftmost couch follows close behind.

"And just to make it official: Congratulations, Tweek," Token attempts to shout over the abundance of cheers, "you have just been crowned the winner of Big Brother by a 5-3 vote and have won $500,000!"

"YEAH!" Craig jumps on Tweek, pulling him into a bear hug.

The camera zooms out from the screen that just played the mini flashback montage to reveal Token, Tweek, and Craig all sitting in the studio. Token is sitting on his lush host chair while Tweek and Craig are sitting side by side on the sofa next to him, holding hands. They are sitting so close together that half of the sofa is free. Behind them, the signature Big Brother house is standing tall in the distance through the floor-length windows. Token smiles to the camera as the room roars with applause.

"Welcome back to Big Brother. We are here with a bit of a bonus episode today – back with our two finalists to reminisce on the events of this season. Right now, we are here with Tweek Tweak, who has just been crowned the first-ever winner of the show…and Craig, who hasn't left Tweek's side since they got engaged, so we had to bring him along, since separating the two of them would be seen as criminal to our fanbase," Tweek laughs and hugs Craig's arm, "We'll talk with you first, Tweek, then we'll bring Kyle on shortly. First off, congratulations on both the win and the engagement. I see you're wearing the ring now. It made it out of the box."

"Yes!" Tweek beams and holds his hand out steady, so the camera can zoom in on it. The ring sparkles in the ceiling lights, nearly blinding the cameraman, "Isn't it stunning?"

"It is, actually," Token replies with a nod, stopping to admire the piece of white gold, diamond-encrusted jewelry for a moment, "Craig has surprisingly good taste."

"Well, obviously, I mean look who I'm dating," Craig interjects, conspicuously gesturing to his fiancé. Tweek awws at this and cuddles into his side while Token takes another gander at the ring.

"Man, I thought I was a heavy spender, but Jesus Christ, Craig!" Token gawks, staring gobstruck at his friend like he's insane, "You know the standard for an engagement ring is three months' salary."

Craig nods, already starting to get a bit peeved, "I know. That's around what it was."

Token leans back, gaping at the response. "The fuck…?" Token quickly clears his throat, hoping to mask his expletive before turning back to the raven, "I thought you were unemployed."

Craig shakes his head, "Not anymore."

"The fuck is your occupation if you can drop this kind of money on an engagement ring?" he wonders, his curiosity overpowering his need to censor himself.

"That's none of your business. This is not my interview. Now please go back to asking Tweek questions, so I can sit here and not do anything like I was promised," Craig snappily retorts, swiftly turning to the side to avoid any further interrogation.

Token nods and awkwardly coughs, tapping the edge of his notecards against his leg, "Okay then, where were we?" he asks, flipping through the cards before settling on the first one, "Ah, yes. Tweek, are you surprised that you won?"

Tweek smiles as he pulls back a bit from his miffed boyfriend, settling his arm gently over Craig's bicep. "Kind of. Honestly, I think I was more surprised that I won the final HOH than I was at winning the game. I felt pretty good about it going into the vote because the bunk of the questions were coming my way. But then, when I was down 3-0, the dread I was experiencing earlier this morning just all came back to me, and I was praying that I wasn't going to get blown out," he confesses, "I will say though, I was surprised that the vote came down to the two people who I had burned, but they knew it was just a game so I guess that's why they voted for me anyway. They respected how I played."

"And they weren't the only ones. Now that the season is over, I can tell you that even if the vote went to a tiebreaker, it wouldn't have mattered because you still would've won anyway, and it wasn't even close. You had 95.2% of the viewer vote, and so many viewers thought you were the most-deserving contestant in the house by far. How does that make you feel? Because those numbers are insane!" Token gushes, setting his card down and leaning forward in anticipation.

"Wow…I can't believe it," Tweek awes, almost speechless by this information, "Especially because I was so sure that I was getting the villain edit. I remember actually telling Wendy that Week 7, right before you did that second Viewers' Choice, cause I was playing everybody in that house."

"Oh, no. I mean, the viewers absolutely loved you," Token reveals with a smile, "You had so many supporters from the very beginning who were rooting for you, especially compared to the other contestants, which I always thought was kind of strange since you were fairly hidden at the beginning of the season. You didn't have many confessionals and most of your screen time was shared with Craig, but then Week 5, Episode 2 came out, and everyone wanted you to stay and avenge your boyfriend. And that was when the support just started gushing in from all sides," Token explains, Tweek near tears next to him, "We have so much to discuss. I have a huge stack of viewer questions for you," he states, holding up his gigantic stack of notecards before continuing on, "so I'm just going to start going through some of these and then we'll talk more about your game. The first question is actually about your relationship with Kyle, who was obviously your fellow finalist. On the show, we saw you two bond a few times, and you always seemed to be this rock for him and this shoulder to cry on. You said at the finale that you don't fake relationships. Does that apply to Kyle as well, or were you playing him?"

Tweek leans back in his seat slightly, "Ooh…I was not expecting this question," he states through a smile, before instantly shifting to a more serious demeanor, "So, I had two relationships with Kyle: a personal relationship and a game relationship. So, long story short, I was not playing him, I genuinely cared about him on a personal level, which is why it was kinda difficult to manipulate him the few times that I did this season. But one of the things I really like about Kyle is that he is very objective, and he never took anything that was strictly game-related personally. Like, you saw at the finale, he congratulated me almost immediately when I beat him. And that's something I really respect about him."

"And I'm sure that's something he respects about you as well," Token adds, quickly setting down his pale blue notecard, "Now, I know I said I was going to ask a few questions before really diving into your game this season, but I think now would be a great time for us to do kind of a mini recap of your journey on the show," Token pauses to take a breather, "So you came into the house with everyone else, day 1, and you were just a paranoid mess. You could barely do a confessional."

"Well, could you blame me? There were cameras everywhere, man. I mean, who wouldn't be paranoid?" Tweek squeaks, playfully throwing his free hand up.

Token laughs, "Fair enough. But unlike most of your other competitors, going into the season, your plan wasn't to win. The plan was that you were going to help Craig win, and obviously, it did not work out that way at all," Tweek chuckles, "Craig, unlike Tweek here, most of your reads were spot-on. You said that Tweek was going to win the season – you actually mentioned that in your casting interview, by the way. And you said it was a $500,000 mistake voting you off over Tweek Week 5. So I think both myself and the viewers are wondering: how the hell did you know all this," Token pauses to exuberantly gesture around the room, "was going to happen?"

Craig shrugs, looking as impassive as ever, in true Craig Tucker fashion, "What can I say? There's nothing I know better than the bae," Craig affectionately squeezes Tweek's hand.

"And that's good enough for me," Token adds with a heavy nod before resuming to the task at hand, "So, Tweek, for the first four or so weeks, you were fairly quiet with your gameplay. You made an alliance with the girls Week 1 to save Craig, you threw Butters under the bus, unbeknownst to the viewers at the time. And you were often overshadowed by Craig. It wasn't until Week 5, when the flaming pile of garbage puts you and Craig up on the block, when we start to see a turning point for you," Token explains, diving further into his explanation, "We saw that clip earlier where you were doubting that you could win this. Thank you for the compliment, by the way. I am very intelligent," he adds with a boastful smirk, "And I think that was the moment, and correct me if I'm wrong, where everything changed for you."

"Um, actually, I would say that the turning point was the week before, when my father visited the house and basically dug up my biggest insecurity and plastered it on national television," Tweek corrects, "Which was when he said that Craig was carrying me through the season and essentially implied that I'm not my own person."

"Harsh."

"Yep," Tweek nods before sarcastically adding, "Thanks, Dad." Tweek frowns into the camera.

"This is the perfect time to ask this viewer's question: What are you going to do about your…other family?" Token asks, genuinely wondering this as well.

Tweek purses his lips together and releases the heaviest sigh he has all season. "Well, now that I have the time and the money, we are moving the hell out of there as soon as possible."