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Summary
“I’m just saying, it’s not like you’re drowning in bitches here, Kyle.” He steps forward in his stupid, stupid heels that make them almost the same height. “Face it, I’m the next best thing.”
Cartman pushes himself against Kyle. He can feel the soft flesh of Cartman’s chest, pushed into the cups of a bra in some gross simulacrum of breasts, pressing into him and it makes him so angry he sees red.
“You’re fucking disgusting is what you are.” Kyle spits back.
