Chapter Text
I stood outside his fancy Jew house, glaring at the pristine pebble-laced path leading to the front door (which was, obviously, polished to mahogany perfection) and the neatly spaced batches of bright, inviting flowers on either side of it.
It took all of my willpower to resist stepping on those stupid fucking flowers and kicking those even stupider fucking pebbles and smashing that ridiculous fucking door down. Seriously? A brass knocker in the shape of a lion? How fucking pretentious. Not even Token’s house had that kind of faux pas air of superiority that Kyle’s house did.
Gerald Broflovski was currently planting a different clump of flowers off to the side, next to the garage, knelt over in lumpy, green overalls and digging up a patch of dirt. Guess he had to find a new hobby after the whole trolling fiasco. I hated to say it, but good for him. In his place, I too, would have chosen hard manual labour over spending time with that god damn bitch wife of his.
“Oh. Good morning, Cartman!” He bellowed, beckoning me over.
Obligingly, I walked towards where the planter was as he stood up and wiped his dirt-covered gloves on his overalls.
“How are you doing, sonny? Got your sights set on any college? You going local or doing an apprenticeship?” He asked, admittedly politely, but I knew it was a facade. A ploy, to brag, of course. That man, albeit harmless overall, just loved the smell of his own farts, and when he couldn’t smell his own, he would flaunt his son’s achievements as if they were some kind of scent diffuser that he absolutely needed to get a whiff of. This, he did more than Sheila, although he at least attempted to be more subtle about it.
“I have a couple options, but I haven’t set my heart on anything yet, Mr Broflovski.” I replied. In return, he looked at me expectantly.
Internally, I groaned, before taking a deep breath, and in my most polite and non-sarcastic sounding tone, I asked, “How about all of you? Has Kyle received any acceptance letters yet?”
He grinned.
“Oh, you haven’t heard? I guess not; we have been trying to keep quiet about it, but since you asked, I’ll tell you—”
Of course I heard. Hell, the whole fucking town knew as soon as— nay, even sooner than Kyle himself, because his mother opened the letter for him whilst he was with us, at skewl. Everyone who checked their facebook’s before the final bell rang knew before he did. He looked bewildered as he received pats on the back and high-fives from everyone around him in last period, but goody-two-shoes Kahl always had his phone turned off during school hours, and accepted the congratulations for no apparent reason, quite gracefully.
Not that this had anything to do with the news I was about to share either.
I kept a half-smile plastered on my face as Gerald continued;
“It was a shock, I guess, but not really! We all knew he’d make it. He was so excited when he saw the acceptance letter himself. Now it’s just about picking up the costs—it’s quite expensive, you know! But we have some savings and his great aunt Gilfredsteina just passed, so we can help him out using what’s left of the inheritance, after all, a good university is the key to success.....”
That’s it. I was going to die here, I was locked in this stupid social stalemate, where I could not interrupt Gerald’s ramblings without sabotaging my plan in the process.
Fucking hell was he boring the living shit out of me.
“It’ll be far from home, I know, but he’ll make it, Kyle’s nearly a man at this point. I’m sure he’ll make some stellar friends along the way—connections are really important in the lawyering business, Cartman, and I’m sure he’ll fit in. After all, he’ll be surrounded by his equals, the best of the best, even! That’s my son, alright!”
On and on he went. Kyle this, yadda yadda that, money, prestige, oh so very, very, very well done to him, of course. Best of the best, little quaint town just isn’t fit for someone with the abilities that Kyle has, blah blah blah. Without end. It was clear that he was lapping this all up for himself, sniffing the stench of Kyle’s success as eagerly as a dog sniffs its’ own shit.
And then, he called up to the front-facing window, from which an ugly, red head reared itself. “Kyle, Kyle come here for a second. I can’t remember, was it 1595 you scored on the SAT’s or 1596 out of 1600?”
Bingo, just what I was waiting for.
Kyle yelled out a response.
“I can’t hear you, Kyle, you’re going to have to come here!” Gerald called out to him.
I couldn’t help but smirk. Perfect. This was all going to be so fucking perfect.
As quickly as the redhead appeared, he disappeared, the window shut, and I could hear a faint thudding of feet.
“Sorry about that. Give him a second.” Gerald smiled at me apologetically.
I smiled back, equally disingenuously. “Not a problem at all, Mr Broflovski. I’m so happy for you and Kyle’s sake. That must sound sooo amazing for you all. Please, tell me more.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t. But I guess, since you want to hear, I’ll tell you-- at least all the tutoring is finally going to pay off!” Gerald laughed, “It wasn’t easy finding the best tutors in the entire country to prepare him in law, economics and business!”
“Indeed.”
Eagerly, I laced my fingers through each page of the binder inside of my satchel. Each page, a different, more devastating blow to Kyle and his family’s ego. Money spent on tutoring was nothing compared to the money that I needed to clear my name off of any permanent police records.
But it would all be worth it.
In an ideal world, Kyle’s mother would also come out to deliver the news, but even in my calculations I wasn’t one hundred percent sure she’d come. Ever since Kyle’s adventure, she has adamantly refused to let her bubba take any of that mea culpa, and it was all my fault that her son was ‘coerced’ into drinking and making a fool of himself whilst drunk. So, she outright refused to acknowledge me by default. Whatever. Kyle and his father hearing would be good enough for me. Fuck, just Kyle himself was more than enough—after all, it was him who I wanted to look at when I admitted the news. I felt the insane, irresistible urge to just rub it in his smug fucking face, I needed to see it. I had to. It was going to be so fucking glorious—I had waiting, patiently biding my time, for so, so incredibly long.
The Broflovski’s fancy front door opened, and a disgruntled Kyle walked out. Standing in the door, I saw Ike, who gave me a quick wave before disappearing inside. Man, that kid was sure growing up fast. I’m glad that he still liked me—I was sure that it pissed Kyle off to no end.
Kyle too, wasn’t pleased about seeing me, the asshole still wouldn’t talk to me after... The thing... That happened... That time when... Nevermind! This wasn’t the time to think about that... incident. I was here to prove a point, and I finally caught him so that he would have to talk to me. I needed this. I needed this for far, far too long.
“Hey Kahl. Your lovely father over here was telling me about the college you got into. Remind me again, which one was it?” I asked sweetly, looking at him.
Uncomfortably, he shifted from foot to foot, pulling his signature green ushanka over his red curls.
He didn’t even look at me.
By this point, I was used to that treatment from him, from our friends—well, from everyone really. One small mishap and he wouldn’t even look me in the eyes anymore.
Not that it bothered me. If anything, I wondered how he could look at himself in the mirror after what he did. I hoped it still kept him up at night, after all this time, but at this point, he no longer had any purple shadows under his eyes, so I knew that the fucking asshole slept like a baby.
Gerald, oblivious to the tension, put his arm around Kyle’s shoulders, effectively locking him in place; “Well Kyle? Let’s hear it from the man himself! Where did you get into?”
Finally, he looked up at me, his green eyes locking with mine for about half a second, before he muttered out;
“Harvard.”
“Oh wow! Finally leaving this shithole and all the shitty people in it, huh?” I asked, adding extra emphasis on the latter part of that statement.
He nodded.
“Your dad was just telling me about how you’re getting your funds. No scholarship then?” I added.
Kyle shook his head, furrowing his brow. I knew that the only reason he kept quiet was because of the social obligations of his father standing right beside him. Well, that, and the fact that for whatever reason, unbeknownst to me, he didn’t trust me.
“Him getting in is achievement enough, sonny.” Gerald asserted. “After all, it’s only a five percent acceptance rate. So the merit based scholarship is what?—Not even one percent from what I’ve heard, it’s for the absolute crème de la crème! And Harvard is the most prestigious school not only in the United States, but in the entire world! So many people would give an arm and a leg to be in his position as a successful applicant.”
Kyle nodded, gaining a little confidence in himself from his father’s incessant asskissing.
“Yeah. I’ve got a bright future.” Kyle said dryly. “I’m actually really looking forward to it.”
I nodded approvingly. “Well done Kahl. You must be pretty proud of yourself. What are you looking forward to the most, if I can ask?”
Letting his guard down, he actually smiled as he began to count off all of the different perks and social clubs and leagues and everything else that he was going to join and partake in.
All throughout, I smiled brightly (dare I fucking say, I outshone Gerald’s fifty-year-old toothy grin) and, subconsciously or not, Kyle must’ve noticed, picking up speed and enthusiasm in describing everything he was going to experience in great detail to me, as if I was unaware of all of the perks going to an ivy league school would bring.
If there was one thing I could always trust a Broflovski on, is that they’d never miss a chance to sanctimoniously brag.
Finally, he finished, also beaming, no doubt excited about his potential prospects. The glory, the achievement, the lawyer firms guaranteed to have him and the rest of his cohort as first pickings as soon as he passed the lawyer’s bar exam.
“That’s so kewl!” I proclaimed, faking incredible excitement. “You know what, Kahl, you’ve convinced me!”
Gerald scoffed, and Kyle’s face quickly contorted into that of puzzlement and confusion.
“Convinced to do what?” Kyle asked incredulously.
“Why, attend Harvard, of course.” I replied, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Sorry sonny,” Gerald replied dismissively, and rather defensively, “That’s a nice thought, but you actually need to be accepted to go. And they don’t give out free hand out’s either—not to say that Lianne isn’t trying her best, of course she is—it’s just, a little out of your budget, I’d say.”
“Mr Broflovski, Sir,” I responded, grinning from ear to ear. Oh this! This was going to be sweeter than a thousand poptarts layered with honey buttercream. This was what I was waiting for, this exact statement rehearsed time and time again in the mirror. All the troubles, all the pain, the sleepless nights, the planning, the writing, the extra jobs, fuck, everything was finally paying off.
Finally. Fucking finally. They could both hear me say it.
“Please don’t worry yourself about my, or my family’s finances. Especially as I have additionally received merit-based scholarship on top of the acceptance letter. It was pretty easy, all things considered— that’s why I asked. Admittedly, I’m shocked that your lovely Kahl over here didn’t receive one, but I guess you were right. Only the crème de la crème receive those.”
“You’re lying!” Kyle retorted.
I had seen Kyle many-a-shade of red, but never quite this blend of humiliated, angry scarlet.
Silently beaming, I took out the binder from my satchel and handed it over to the both of them. Mouth agape, Gerald Broflovski opened it, and they both shook their heads in disbelief whilst reading the contents inside. Like father, like son.
“It’s photocopied, of course.” I added politely. “The original is nicely framed at home; I’m sure that you, of all people, would understand the sentiment of such a monumental achievement.”
“You’re lying.” Kyle repeated himself, still red. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than me. “This isn’t real. It’s fake.”
“I wouldn’t dare, Kahl.” I replied calmly. “Have you received your course textbook requirements email? There’s an attachment with all of the successful applicants. It’ll also be posted on their website soon enough. Feel free to check, but I assure you, this is so fucking real.”
Kyle blinked.
There was a lengthy silence.
“Oh...Well... Congratulations, Eric.” Gerald said dryly. Unlike his son, he was as white as a sheet, with a speck of mud on his forehead after having had wiped the sweat off of it.
“Ah, finally remembering my name, Mr Broflovski?” I answered, my cheeks hurting from this strained smile, but honestly, it was all so fucking worth it. They were beyond dumbfounded, but Gerald couldn’t say anything. “It’ll be so nice not being the only person from South Park! I can’t wait.”
At that point, Kyle snapped.
“How the fuck did you cheat your way in there, fatass?”
“Kyle!” I responded, mock offended. “Are you really trying to undermine the integrity of a university like Harvard by implying that students could cheat their way in? I guess they just really must’ve liked my extracurriculars, is all. You know, it’s not easy being an entrepreneur that started a C-Baby Basketball business so successful EA wanted the rights to it, created a Christian rock band that took the community by storm and received a myrrh record, saved multiple people from an armed robbery, only to name a few. I’ve also got plenty of volunteering hours as well.”
“I... I don’t believe it.” Kyle stammered.
“You don’t have to, Kahl.” I drawled out, victoriously, and quite loudly too.“The administrators have made their choice and that’s all that matters. Anyways, I’ve got to get going, but I guess I’ll see you at Harvard!”
As I turned around, out of the corner of my eye, I could see through the kitchen window, that the old hag, Sheila Broflovski herself, was washing dishes. I heard her famous “what, what, WHAT!?” and a split-second later, the sound of a plate dropping.