Chapter Text
December 19, 2060
It was Sunday morning at South Park’s Catholic church, the Marshes were seated amongst the many Catholics in town, all present for the last Sunday morning mass before Christmas Day. Besides Stan and Wendy, Sharon, Shelley, Kevin, and the kids were all present and accounted for. Randy would have been with them as well, but his truck was still in the shop for repairs, and Uber Deluxes to church from the farm cost a fair penny, thus eliminating his presence. On the bright side, there wouldn't be those awkward moments of silence between him and Sharon.
As usual, the family was seated in the fourth row on the priest’s right side, and sitting in front of them as always were the Stotches. Well, most of the Stotches, Siouxsie didn’t really do Catholic morning mass, being a Satanist and all. Butters and Philip always had their best suits on, Butters in a navy blue with a maroon tie and Philip in a black suit and a red-and-white striped tie, while Charlotte always wore her finest dress, a floral red maxi dress with a crew neck along with a white pair of heels.
"Morning, Butters”, said Stan.
"Morning, Stan, good to see ya got the whole family out!"
“Oh yeah, can’t miss the last morning mass before Christmas.”
“No, sir-ry Bob!”
As Stan and Butters were catching up, the priest came out and went up to his podium. It was Father Scott Malkinson, a former classmate of their’s who had grown up to become South Park’s primary priest. Growing up, Scott Malkinson had never really stood out much aside from his lisp and having diabetes, the latter to the point of practically being his catchphrase, so he was determined to make something of himself. Giving that he had always been the butt of everybody’s jokes, though, why Malkinson chose to become a Catholic priest was anybody’s guess. But he did, and in fairness, he still did something respectable with his life.
“Welcome all, on thith most thpecial of morningth. Ath we approach that special day of the year, the day that our lord and thavior came into the world…”
“…and a Catholic priest came into him”, snickered Clyde from the front row, prompting chuckles from a few of the other adults.
“Now, now, folkth, let’th not do thith at Chrithmath time”, Father Malkinson said before continuing, “thith ith a time of year where we are all athked if we’re ready. Everybody wanth to be ready, ready for Christmath time, ready for the family to arrive, ready for our gifth to arrive…”
“…like that cute little alter boy the Catholic priest has been asking for this year”, joked Pete Melman, the town’s Chief Postal Worker.
Father Malkinson was getting annoyed but nonetheless continued with his sermon. “We are tho contherned with the future, tho contherned with what will be, that we thomtimeth fail to thtop and think about the here and the now. To thtop and ther how truly blethed we are, the joy and wonder of family, of friendth, of loved oneth. To thtop and thee thothe leth fortunate then uth…”
“Like a blind little boy in a room full of Catholic priests?”, quipped Francis Lilker, the local bank manager.
“No kidding!”, interjected Wendy, “that boy would be sweating like a Catholic priest in a toy store!”
“’Specially if that Catholic priest has diabetes”, called Bill Allen in mock sympathy.
“Yeah”, chortled Fosse McDonald Sr, “stupid gay diabetes, huhuh.”
“Are you theriouth?!”, snapped Father Malkinson, “you’re really resorting to my diabetes for Catholic priest jokes??”
“Hey now”, said Craig, “I seriously doubt a Catholic priest with diabetes could do any funny business with the kids. I mean, imagine all the bathroom breaks he’d need!”
“Talk about killing the mood!”, quipped Tweek.
“ALL while he could be killing that boy’s ass!”, remarked Casey Miller in the same rich, smooth voice he used to deliver the news.
Father Malkinson just about had it at this point when Brimmy stood up to speak. This is Brimmy’s time to shine!
“Don’t even bother.”
Or not, as Brimmy sat right back down while the other attendants continued laughing.
“Children, children, we must collect ourselves”, called a voice. It was none other than Jesus Christ himself, a former resident of South Park who had recently returned after a long absence.
“Jethuth”, cried Father Malkinson, “we’re tho happy to have you here!”.
“Anything for a man of my father”, said Jesus. “Now, diabetes is no laughing matter, my children. It is a terrible, terrible disease that afflicts millions.”
“Yeth!”, agreed Father Malkinson.
“Father Malkinson is a dutiful and honorable man who has always devoted himself to his faith and to his community.”
“Yeth, thank you, Mithter Chritht!”, cried Father Malkinson in relief, so happy to have the Lord on his side.
“And you, William, should be absolutely ashamed of yourself for using his diabetes for comedy.”
“Amen, Jethuth Chritht, amen!”, called Father Malkinson.
“Yes, tis but a cheap shot…”, continued Jesus in his usual genteel tone, “much like…”
“….a facial from a Catholic priest.”
Just like that, the entire church, young and old, bursted into laughter. Father Malkinson was seemingly indignant, but soon covered his mouth to hide the small smirk. Recollecting himself, Father Malkinson called on all of the attendants for a round of praising his name.
“PRAISE JESUS!”
About ten minutes later, Sunday Morning Mass ended with everybody leaving in a sense of relief and joy.
“You know, I always thought it was so stupid of our parents to do this”, remarked Craig, “but you know, it really does lift one’s spirit.”
“Absolutely”, said Tweek in response, “it really does make one feel so much <nngh!> better.”
"Tweek! Craig!", called Stan, "glad to see you both made it, it would have been a shame if you weren't here."
"Well, the Tuckers can't possibly miss church", answered Craig, "isn't that right, girls?"
"Yeah, sure", responded Hannah, their teenage daughter who inherited her dad's artistic talents and her pop's demeanor.
"Absolutely", the younger daughter, Alicia, replied glumly.
“Hey Pop, can we go now?”, asked Hannah.
“In a moment, sweetie, your dad and I are just catching up with an old friend.”
“Is this the space soldier guy?”, inquired Alicia.
“Well, yes”, responded Stan, “I am that space soldier guy. As a matter of fact, your pop is the one who got me started on that path.”
“Fascinating”, deadpanned Hannah.
"Dad, Pop, can we go home?", asked Alicia, "I don't like leaving Dot alone for too long." Dot was the girls' pet rabbit, always sure to grace Tweek's Facebook Ulta Plus profile just like Uncle Stripe.
“Of course <nnghf!>”, responded Tweek, “alright Stan, we’ll see you around.”
“Bye guys”, said Stan.
As the Tuckers went to their car-always parked in the closest non-handicap spot for Tweek’s sake, Officer Donovan strolled by with his kids.
"See ya 'round, Stan!"
"See you, Clyde."
"And good one with that River of Prosperity in the little boy's mouth, you gotta post that on Facebook Ultra Plus!"
"Thanks, but that's nothing compared to Brimmy's joke about the Altar Boy Sandwich in Bethlehem!"
"Ah, true. Later, man!"
Once Clyde left with his family, Stan looked to his lady and smiled.
“You know, if you had told me that I’d ever feel warm and fuzzy over making jokes about Catholic priests molesting kids”, remarked Stan, “I would say you’re completely full of it.”
“Well”, chuckled Wendy, “it’s surprising what can inspire nostalgia.”
The two walked towards Wendy’s parents, who were in very bright spirits as they chuckled to each other.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Testaburger.”
“Stan!”, cried Wendy’s mother, “so good to see you, dear.”
“There’s my future son-in-law!”, barked her father.
“I’d certainly like to think so”, chuckled Stan as he gave Wendy’s parents a hug. “How have you both been? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to catch up with both of you sooner.”
“Oh Stanley, there’s nothing to apologize for”, assured Mrs. Testaburger.
“Of course not”, corroborated Mr. Testaburger, “and to answer your question, we’ve been great. Investments have been going great, so the Missus and I are planning on getting this new condo in Denver.”
“That’s terrific!”, said Stan.
“Isn’t it, though? And to top it all off, our little girl is back with her childhood sweetheart”, said Mr. Testaburger as he gave Stan a nudge.
"Well, Wendy and I are taking it slow for now."
“Oh! Oh, of course, that’s always the right way to do it.” Mr. Testaburger was clearly eager to see his daughter settle down, maybe have a child or two, but he had to respect their wishes.
“But I have no doubt marriage could come up at some point!”, said Stan in effort to reassure his potential parent-in-laws.
“Absolutely a possibly”, Wendy added.
“Well for now, just take care and enjoy yourself, dear”, replied Mrs. Testaburger.
“We have to get going now, so we’ll see you both at Christmas time”, said Mr. Testaburger.
“Great, looking forward!”, said Stan.
“Alright, we’ll see you both then”, added Wendy.
“Have a wonderful day, sweetie”, Mrs. Testaburger doted as she kissed her daughter on the forehead.
While all the Catholics were at church, Kyle decided to sleep in for a bit. Stan was at church with his family and Eli was going to the park to hang out with Luke. Gabrielle, meanwhile, was over at the Blacks’ home painting with Ashley and Kelly Smith. And besides, he’s been spending all semester helping kids out through an infinite number of problems, big and small, so he’s earned some peace and quiet for a bit.
As Kyle was woke up, his phone started ringing. He picked up the phone and looked to see who it was. It was his mother, who was calling from the bungalow she and Kyle’s father had been living in for the past thirteen years.
“Hey Mom.”
Oh Kyyyyle!, she called out in her Jersey accent, so terrific to hear from you! Your father and I are very excited to come home for Hanukkah and see Stanley while he’s back.
”Oh yeah, Mom, Stan’s definitely looking forward to seeing you and Dad.”
Oh, that’s fantastic! And how are my sweet little momelahs?
“Eli and Gabrielle are doing great, Mom! They’re out with friends right now, but I’ll be sure to have them call you later this evening after they get back.”
Fantastic! I will be so happy to see them tomorrow!
”Tomorrow?!” As far as Kyle knew, he still two days to get everything together for his parents’ visit.
Oh yes, Kyle! With Ikey there and the grandbabies there, I just couldn’t take the wait any longer! Don’t worry, sweetie, you don’t have to do anything too crazy for our arrival, just tidy up a bit and everything should be just fine!
“Oh, okay, that sounds…good.” Kyle knew that with his mother, “tidy up a bit” meant “overhaul the entire house top to bottom”.
That’s excellent, Kyle! See you soon, sweetie, and be sure to give your brother my love!
(honey, we gotta finish packing before we have to leave tomorrow!)
Alright, snookums, have a wonderful day, bye!
Once his mother hung up, Kyle began to panic.
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Mom and Dad are going to be here tomorrow, I have to clean up the guest bedroom, gotta get the back window fixed, have to vacuum all of upstairs PLUS fix up the backyard…”, Kyle cried before stopping to catch his breath.
“Hold on, hold on. Okay, I’ll just call up some repairmen to work on the back window, and while I’m waiting for them, I’ll just vacuum upstairs.”
With that, Kyle pulled up the virtual phone book and looked up the nearest repairmen.
Let’s see, let’s see…there! He found A&M Repairs, which was a mere seven minute drive from the Broflovski home. And they’re well within Kyle’s budget? This is a winner-winner chicken dinner!
Chicken dinner? Fuck!, thought Kyle. He forgot to get the turkey for later that week when Ike and his parents come over. Well, Ike, since his folks were now coming over tomorrow. Which reminds him that he needs to get the steaks for tomorrow night. Grocery shopping isn’t even supposed to be until Thursday, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Back to the immediate priority, remembered Kyle, window repair, right.
Pulling out his phone, Kyle began dialing A&M Repairs. Of course, the buttons kept screwing up on Kyle.
You’d think phones in the future wouldn’t be this much trouble, thought an annoyed Kyle, but I suppose not.
After about four to five minutes, Kyle finally got ahold of A&M Repairs.
Good day, and welcome to A&M Repairs, where we take any and all repair jobs. Fill a hole, fix the plumbing, clean the pipes, you name it! Because as A&M always say, it’s a dirty job but someone’s gotta do it!
—Beeeeep!—-
“Hello, this is Kyle Broflovski, I have a broken window in my house and I need it fixed before my parents get here tomorrow. I’m at 1002 Avenue de los Mexicanos and any assistance will be greatly appreciated. Thank you for your time and have a wonderful holiday season!”
After hanging up, Kyle went straight to the guest room to have it ready for his parents. In the guest room was a king size bed along with a nightstand, a medium sized tv, and a book shelf. Three of the books were knocked out of place, and there was a small stain nearby from what appeared to be red wine. Had to be from when Ike came home with that blonde with the big…personality. Hopefully, Kyle still had that stain removing bleach he got two weeks ago. He should, there had only been three other stains recently, with two from Gabrielle’s artwork and one from Eli spilling grape juice on himself at school.
Running back downstairs, Kyle went straight to the laundry room to pick up the stain remover when the door bell rang.
“Are the repair people really already here?”, asked Kyle. He then went to open the front door, and much to his not-so-pleasant surprise, the repairmen were old classmates Bill Allen and Fosse McDonald. Great, terrific.
“Hey there Kyle”, greeted Bill, “so you gotta hole that needs to be filled?”
“Yeah”, chuckled Fosse, “need a real man to do the dirty deed?”
“I have a window that needs to be repaired, yes”, answered a visibly annoyed Kyle.
“Well, let’s go fix er up, Fosse”, said Bill.
“That’s what she said”, chuckled Fosse.
“Oh yeah, huh huh, fix er up, huh, yeah.”
“That’s gay, heh, heh.”
Kyle began rubbing his eyes, realizing that this was going to be a long day.
As her father got the house ready, Gabrielle was spending time with Ashley Black and Kelly Smith at the former’s home. Ashley’s father was out on police duty while her mother was upstairs with a stomach flu, so she decided to call some friends over to hang out. Gabrielle was Jewish and Kelly agnostic, so they were naturally available.
At the moment, the girls were painting as they often did, with Ashley painting natural landscapes while Gabrielle went for something more abstract. Then there was Kelly, painting poodles and cotton candy.
“Oh Kelly, that’s a lovely poodle”, said Ashley in a supportive matter.
“Aww shucks, Ashley, I just wanted to do somethin’ real cute and pretty.”
“Well, you definitely succeeded”, Gabrielle offered.
“Think I should add a rainbow to the deal?”, asked Kelly.
“A rainbow would look great with the poodles and cotton candy, Kelly!”, encouraged Ashley.
“Alright then, a rainbow it shall be!”, beamed Kelly.
As they continued painting, Gabrielle was deep in thought. She was close to done when she looked and was taken aback by the results. The painting evoked a stark, empty space with very little life inside. What life there was consisted of a small blueish gray dot and a more humanoid shape. The humanoid was a being predominantly red, with a blue and yellow head. On the head was a mouth, a dot for a nose, and two circles were eyes would normally have been.
Ashley soon took notice of her friend’s painting with interest. “What’s that?”
“Oh”, Gabrielle responded as she just realized Ashley had seen her work, “just something that came to me.”
“What are those things?”, asked Kelly.
Gabrielle started to think as she crafted a response. Without realizing it, she had painted somebody she knew. Maybe not knew per se, but certainly somebody she was well aware of. Then it dawned on her.
“It’s the homeless man.”
“Which one?”, inquired Kelly.
“Wait”, cut in Ashley, “is that…the Beast?”
“The Beast?”, asked a puzzled Kelly.
“You know, the middle aged man in the red coat and blue beanie that’s always ranting and raving and getting into fights with people?”
“I don’t know anybody like that, my ma doesn’t like me going into the bad parts of town”, shrugs Kelly meekly. It was well known that her mother was very protective of her and her twin brother Rozz. She understood why that was, giving her mother’s upbringing, but it still made her feel self-conscious about how she was perceived.
“Well”, continued Ashley, “if Gabrielle was going for a scary and disgusting subject, she succeeded. I’ve heard a few of my dad and his work buddies’ stories about The Beast. He’ll say something fucked up, trying to get a rise out of you. Dad and most of the other cops just ignore him, but a few don’t get with the program. Those cops always get riled up and start beating him up. How the hell The Beast is still alive is anybody’s guess.”
“He sounds like a real not-nice person”, said Kelly.
“You could say that again”, snorted Ashley.
“Well”, cut in Gabrielle, “I actually ran into him yesterday when my family was at the mall.”
“What?”, asked a shocked Ashley.
“I think he and some of the other homeless people were looking for food or whatever else they look for. I had gone out to drop off the stuff I got from the art store and I heard him crawling out of one of the bins. He dropped this old stuffed Totoro he was holding onto, got pissed when he thought I was going to take it. He was still an asshole, but then he mentioned it was a gift for someone, somebody he was desperate to give the Totoro to. I ended up looking right into his eyes, and there was a real sadness there. Somebody full of pain and despair, like a lost, broken soul.”
“Is that little dot Totoro?”, asked Kelly.
“Yeah, I guess it is”, answered Gabrielle.
Eventually, the girls moved onto making popcorn to watch a movie, all while Gabrielle remained deep in thought. She couldn’t help but think about the man and where he was, what he was doing, how did he end up like this?
On the other side of town, ten of the six grade boys were nanoboarding over the homeless much as their parents used to do with those things called skateboards. Among the ten boys were Eli Broflovski and his friends Luke Stoley and Philip Stotch. None of them were nanoboarding, mostly just watching as kids like Clark Lilker pulled out all the stops to the tune of Faith No More's “We Care A Lot”.
Right now, Clark was nanoboarding over two homeless people. They were Cartman and Skips, the former now on the other side from when he was a kid doing this.
Now there’s some bitter fucking irony, Cartman thought.
“Go kid, you got this!”, Skips called out cheerfully.
“Skips, you’re supposed to be fuckin’ pissed about being in this spot”, Cartman deadpanned.
“Why?”, asked Skips innocently. Giving that he never got included on these kinds of activities when was the boys’ age, he was just happy to be apart of it at all.
“Eh, forget it”, Cartman replied with resignation. He couldn’t really hold much anger against his cohort, especially since Skips usually didn’t know any better.
“Alright, alright, alright, Clark-aaaaaae!”, called out Matthew Calhoun.
Clark Lilker was right back at the start, building up momentum before he skated over Skips and Cartman. He hit the starting point, going, going, going and then BAM! He skates right over the bums before hitting a triple flip with ease.
“Fuckin’ A!”, cried Ferdinand Hughes.
“Good goin’, guy!”, cheered Philip.
Clark came to a stop in front of the other boys with a look of false modesty.
“Oh, that was nothing, boys, nothing that can’t be learned.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Clark”, insisted Luke, “that was fuckin’ badass, man. Nothing any of us could do.”
“Perhaps Eli can!”, declared Philip.
Eli was stunned as all of the other boys looked directly at him.
“Well, Eli”, said Clark, “you’re pretty good at nanoboard, is that right?”
“Uh, well, I guess”, shrugged Eli nervously. Goddamnit, Philip, he thought, I’m gonna kick your fucking ass for this later.
“Well, let’s see what you got. If you got anything, that is.”
Clark had such a smug look on his face as he looked Eli straight in the eyes.
“Well, I don’t know, I guess I’m an okay rider”, shrugged a nervous Eli, “but I mean, it’s getting late and-”
“That’s what I thought!”, chuckled Clark.
“Come on, Eli”, said Philip, “I know you can do this, buddy.”
“Nah, he chicken”, said Ben Allen.
“Yeah”, chortled Foley MacDonald, “he can’t do it. He’s too scared.”
“He’s just a little turd muffin”, laughed Ferdinand Hughes, clearly relishing the chance to get back at Eli for Gabrielle kicking his ass at Mysterion Tunnel Dive 15 yesterday.
“Hey, hey, hey, let’s go easy on ole Elijah”, said Clark in a pseudo supportive matter, “I mean, look who his old man is, everybody knows that you’re bound to be real soft if Mr. Broflovski is your old man.”
“AAAY!”, called Cartman. The boys immediately turned to look at The Beast himself.
“Whatchoo got to say, tubby?”, laughed Clark.
“You call that pitiful fucking shit trash talk?!”, Cartman snapped back, “Goddamn, you little fucking bowl of placenta soup, you kids today can’t fucking trash talk for goddamn shit.”
“Oh look, Grandpa is going to teach us a lesson!”, jeered Charlie Calhoun, the son of Calvin C-Cap himself.
“You goddamn right I am, just like when I taught your fuckin’ dad a lesson or two when I was plowing your goddamn whore of a mother! Course, I don’t know if he can actually utilize any of those lessons, since he’s all fuckin’ balls and no shaft!”
“Heh, heh, you sure got told off”, crowed Ben Allen.
“Yeah”, jeered Foley, “you’re so fuckin’ gay.”
“Shut up”, Cartman deadpanned while looking right at Foley in a matter suggesting he knew something Foley did not want revealed to all his friends.
“You, redhead!”, he barked out while pointing at Eli, “ride over me and Skips, do it right, and show up this little four foot fucking stack of shit bricks, then every one of you little tofu scarfing tubes of santorum can get the fuck out of here!”
As he got done speaking, Cartman laid back down on the sidewalk, with Skips eagerly joining him.
“You’re gonna do great!”, Skips chimed in.
As much as he didn’t want to, and as much as he questioned why The Beast would insist of him riding over him, he still knew better than to challenge the Beast.
With that in mind, Eli got his helmet and pads on, ignoring the snickers of a few of the other boys, before getting ready to ride the homeless. He couldn’t back down now, so it was time to show those pricks who’s boss.
As he got ready, he ignored the dickheads in favor of just Philip, Luke, and the other homeless guy who was eager for some reason to see him do this. Well, take any support you can get, you know?
He rode, and rode, and rode, AND…fell flat on his ass mere inches away from the Beast’s head.
“Hah!”, jeered Clark Lilker, “I knew he couldn’t do it. Well, I’m still the be-”
“Oh no”, bellowed Cartman, “nobody’s going any goddamn place til redhead here lands it!”
“Are you shitting me?”, exclaimed a gobsmacked Clark.
“Already did this morning, you measly fucking ringworm.”
Goddamnit, the boys all thought. Grumbling amongst themselves, they all stood there waiting for Eli to get it right the second time.
Eli was determined to show up Clark and let him know who was boss in South Park’s sixth grade.
Eli would do it...after no less than sixty attempts over the course of two hours and thirteen minutes-as timed by Philip.
“You can do it, kid!”, cheered Skips for the sixtieth-plus time.
“Please get this right, Broflovski”, groaned Clark, “I want to get the fuck out of here.”
Eli went back in place one more time, determined to take all of his previous mistakes into account. A lick of the thumb, stuck out at an angle to get the right time and position. With everything in place, rolled his nanoboard one more time. Going, going, going…..
Right as he approached the board on top of the homeless, Eli went for the kill! Off the board…one flip…two flip…and then he missed the third flip, then managed to just barely land back on his feet as the nanoboard lands right next to his right side.
“Alright, that was pretty good”, conceded Clark. Rather he was being sincerely complimentary or just wanting to get this over with and go back home, Eli couldn’t tell, but he was not going to waste a chance to have any kind of victory over Clark fucking Lilker.
“Thanks Clark, and merry Christmas”, Eli said while holding his hand out for Clark to shake.
Clark didn’t know if he should shake Eli’s hand, but a glance from somebody behind the other boy convinced to do as such.
“Happy Hanukkah”, he replied as the two shook hands.
Most of the boys left to go elsewhere except for Eli. He was surprised by the past two hours, and by the support of the one the kids all called The Beast, no less. It wasn’t a kind, gentle sort of support, but it was support.
Cartman was taking a swig of his scotch when Eli approached him, the boy about to do something he never thought he would do.
“Thank you.”
Cartman immediately stopped drinking, simply taken aback by the boy’s words.
"Huh?", he grunted.
"Thank you", repeated Eli, "I just want Ed to know...why did you help me? I thought you hated kids riding you."
Cartman paused for a moment before finally collecting himself.
"Somebody needed to keep that little cocksucker in line, make him humble", he replied dismissively. "Maybe, then, he’ll fucking piss off when I tell him to fucking piss off."
"Oh, okay", replied Eli.
He noticed Cartman struggling to open up a box before speaking up.
"I can help open that if you’d like…sir."
Cartman looked at Eli with a look of puzzlement, then irritation. "I don’t need a fuckin’ kid’s help to open this <grunt> damn thing", before proceeding to struggle some more.
"Look, you helped put me on even level with Clark Lilker, so this is the least I can do for you.
"You deaf, kid? I don’t need no fuckin’ help!”
Eli simply kneeled down to look the Beast dead straight in the eyes.
"Sir, I’m not leaving until I help you open that box", he stated emphatically.
Cartman looked at the boy and sighed. Goddamnit, he really is Kyle’s kid, he thought.
"If it means you fuck off, fine", he grunts while rolling his eyes.
With those words, Eli gently grabbed the box from Cartman. It was AVT Lock Deluxe, with a four digit combination.
"Where did you get this box?", he asked.
"What’s it to ya?", Cartman snidely retorted.
"Sir, I need to know so I can have some idea of what the combination might be."
"Got it off Cisco", answered Cartman reluctantly.
Eli was confused by the answer.
"Mr. Collazo who runs the convenience store over there", Cartman clarifies while pointing to Cisco’s store.
"Oh."
Now that Eli knew where this box came from, he could start forming an idea of what the combination could be. Maybe a birthday or a year?
"Kid, if that combination had anything to do with years or birthdays or some shit, I would have already opened the fuckin' thing by now", deadpans an exasperated Cartman.
Eli was a bit put off by how the man seemed to know what he was thinking, but brushed it aside and proceeded to go through the next logical possibility. He knew that Mr. Collazo used to be a drag racer, so it might have something to do with that. Now, drag racing, drag racing….
"Probably some kind of record or something", Cartman casually remarked, "and no, I don’t remember any records. I’m usually too fucked up to remember that kind of shit."
Putting aside the second reminder that the man could seemingly read his mind, Eli thought about records. Eli thought hard about it, and then….
"That’s it!" At that moment, the boy put in the combination and the box instantly came open.
"How the hell did you do that shit?", Cartman remarked in a somewhat bemused fashion.
"Oh, well, I remember my uncles going on about drag racing one time, and my Uncle Ike talked about The Cisco Kid and how he went 332.7 miles. Since you called Mr. Collazo ‘Cisco’, I realized he must have been the Cisco Kid. So I put it 3-3-2-7, and it seems to have correct", Eli replied, delivering the last sentence with a shrug.
Cartman was fairly impressed, but he wouldn’t say it as he couldn’t give the kid the satisfaction of being right. He may not have been Kyle, but he was still Kyle’s kid.
"Yeah, well, hooray, congratu-fucking-lations, you figured out the combination, I’m sure your shit smells like lavender and honey or some fuckin' shit like that", he snorted.
"It’s nothing", Eli replied before handing Cartman the box, which turned out to contain a small bottle of scotch, a water bottle, and two non-perishable meals. It didn’t really seem like much, but in fairness, it wasn’t like the man had much to begin with.
"Thanks again, sir."
Cartman paused for a moment. "Sure kid, whatever."
"Well, I have to get going now, take care. And...have a nice holiday season."
Cartman merely grunted as Eli left SodoSopa.
...
After leaving SodoSopa, Eli ended up in getting closer to his house as he passed by some carolers.
(Bum BOM! Bum BOM-Bum-Bum-BOM! Bum-BOM-Bum-Bum-BOM!)
(Bum BOM! Bum BOM-Bum-Bum-BOM! Bum-BOM-Bum-Bum-BOM!)
WE CARE A LOT!
(Bum BOM! Bum BOM-Bum-Bum-BOM! Bum-BOM-Bum-Bum-BOM!)
WE CARE A LOT!
(Bum BOM! Bum BOM-Bum-Bum-BOM! Bum-BOM-Bum-Bum-BOM!)
WE CARE A LOT!
About disasters, fires, floods, and killer bees
WE CARE A LOT!
About Los Angeles having fallen in the sea
WE CARE A LOT!
About the homeless who go hungry all the time!
WE CARE A LOT!
About police corruption and corporate greed
WE CARE A LOT!
About the Natives who lost their piece of the ROCK, baby ROCK, yeah!
(Whoa-whoa-oh-oh!)
(Whoa-whoa-oh-oh!)
Well, it's a dirty job but someone's gotta do it!
Say, it's a dirty job but someone's gotta do it!
Eli may not have celebrated Christmas, but that didn't he couldn't take the words of the carolers to heart. As abrasive as the man might have been, that didn't mean he and the other homeless people weren't worthy of compassion or charity.
Eli thought long and hard about exactly how he could help them until an idea dawned on him. That's it, he thought, that's how I can help them. Plus, he just knew that his father would accept the idea with open arms.
By the time he came home, Eli could see his father anxiously setting the whole living room up to be at its most presentable.
"Hey, Dad."
"Oh", greeted a tense Kyle Broflovski, "hey Eli, nice to have you back home. Can you get that frame straightened for me, son?"
"Sure, dad", replied Eli as he adjusted the frame right near the front door.
"Thank you, oh God, thank you", replied Kyle as he continued panting in exhaustion.
"Is something wrong, Dad? You seem really stressed out."
"Oh no, not stressed, just trying to get things ready for your grandparents before they come over tomorrow."
"Bubbe bumped their visit up, didn’t she?"
"Yes, yes she did", his father deadpanned, "you know how your bubbe gets, she starts getting all excited about something, can’t bare the wait, and as you know, you can’t really argue with your bubbe, and OH GOD, I still don’t have everything ready for their visit!"
Just as Kyle starts working himself up into a panic, Eli sits by his father to calm him down. "It’s okay, Dad, it’s okay. I’m home now, I can help with whatever is left, and soon as Gabrielle gets home, she can help as well. So what do we have left?"
"Well, I was able to get the window upstairs fixed, even if I had to listen to Mr. Allen and Mr. McDonald make nonstop innuendos and call everything in the house gay. I also got the bed in the guest room made along with straightening the books in there, even got the red wine stain from your Uncle Ike’s girlfriend out of the carpet. I had vacuumed upstairs, but again, Mr. Allen and Mr. McDonald. I also still need to get some extra groceries for dinner tomorrow, plus fix up the backyard."
"Okay", Eli calmly noted, "you can take care of the groceries, I can clean up the backyard, and Gabrielle can vacuum upstairs."
"Yeah, that should work", his father replied, "that should absolutely work. Now we just need to wait for your sister to get home."
Then seemingly on cue, Gabrielle was back home at 4:00 on the dot, “hey Dad, hey Eli.”
“Hello Gabrielle, how was your time with Ashley and Kelly?”
“It was good, we did some painting, watched some movies, and I have a couple of my paintings with me!”
“That’s terrific, sweetie, I’ll be sure to look at them later on! Right now, I need to go the store, and while I’m gone, I need you to vacuum upstairs while Eli cleans the backyard and we have the house ready for Bubbe and Saba tomorrow. Alright, love you both, bye!”
Within moments of finishing his sentence, Kyle was gone to the store, leaving his kids to do their chores while he was out.
“So….what did you get up to, Eli?”, asked Gabrielle with a smirk, “Watch other kids do what you wish you could do?”
“Ha-ha, very funny sis”, replied Eli sarcastically, “no, I did some nanoboarding myself.”
“You’re joking.”
“No I am not.”
“You were probably pushing into doing it.”
“No!”
Gabrielle looked at her brother with a cocked eyebrow.
“Fine, Philip said I could do it, Clark and the other guys started saying I couldn’t do it. Then this homeless guy pushed me to go for it and made everybody wait until I got the trick right.”
“Was it this guy?”, Gabrielle asked as she held up her painting from earlier.
“Gabes, how the hell am I supposed to-wait. Holy shit, red body, blue hat, yeah, that was what he was wearing. How the hell did you know?”
“I ran into him yesterday at the mall while taking my bag out.”
“When you should have stayed right with me inside”, replied Eli in a way that only an irritated older brother can.
“Point is…”, rebutted Gabrielle with the roll of her eyes, “he was climbing out of the bins and carrying an old Totoro with him.”
“The Beast carrying Totoro with him? That’s something I never thought I’d hear of.”
“Said it was a gift for somebody. I know he’s a drunk and an asshole, but the way he talked about that thing, and the look in his eyes, I think he was telling the truth.”
“Maybe”, shrugged her brother, “well, let’s get our chores done before Dad goes home.”
“Okay”, replied Gabrielle. Even so, she still couldn’t help but think about the homeless man, where he was now. What he was doing? How did he end up the way he is now?
Later that evening back in SodoSopa, Cartman was in his corner getting ready for dinner. From the box he had gotten earlier that morning, he picked out a tomato soup can to cook over his makeshift fireplace. While it was cooking, he turned his head and looked right at Totoro, still flashing that everlasting grin at him.
“Fine”, he grumbled, “that boy’s not all bad.”
Totoro continued looking at Cartman before the latter finished his thoughts.
“That kid is a good boy”, he sighed solemnly, “a good boy….”, losing his train of thought as he looked back within his distant past.
It’s spring time in Colorado Springs, and the students of Gespetzah Elementary Plus2 are in line to be picked up by their parents. In the midst of these students are two children, an eleven-year old girl in fifth grade and a nine-year old boy in third grade, the kids of Rabbi Eric Cartman, the head rabbi of the local synagogue. Normally, their mother would be taking them home, but since she’s at a doctor’s appointment, their father is picking them up instead.
After at least five minutes of waiting, a familiar car pulls right up in front of the children, who immediately brighten up and run to the car.
”Hello there, children!”, beams the rabbi.
”Hey dad”, the kids respond in unison.
”How’s it going?”
”Great!”, exclaims the girl, “got an A on the science presentation I had with Jenny and I got chosen for the solo in choir!”
”That’s my girl!”, congratulates her father, “so how about you, Moisha?”
”Oh, Mrs. Schwartzenberg gave us back our writing assignments, she read my paper about Beefcake and his adventures across the Land of Make Believe while battling the killer rabbits, radioactive guinea pigs, and cyborg serial killers and said my writing was unique!”
”Your writing is unique, indeed!”, Eric responds cheerfully before developing a mischievous grin on his face.
”What is it, Dad?”, asks the girl.
”Well Menorah, since you and Moisha have been doing so well in school, I thought I might take you somewhere for the day. Maybe Chapel Hills Mall Premium?”
”Yes! Yes!”
”Fantastic! And we’ll look anywhere that either of you want to go.”
While both children are pleased to hear this, Moisha is particularly excited as he knows what that means.
Within eighteen minutes of having left the school parking lot, the Cartmans arrive at Chapel Hills Mall Premium, parking right in front of the entrance to Macy’s Sears Plus. The three immediately make their way through the store, where Menorah stops to look at some of the clothes in the Women’s Department. She’s particularly keen on an olive green dress that will be just perfect for her choir’s concert, which will be dedicated to Earth Prime Day.
As his sister goes through different outfits, Moisha sits anxiously outside the dressing room, desperate to reach his destination before the day ends. Luckily for him, Menorah doesn’t take long to pick out the outfits she wants, and once their father pays for the outfits, the three leave Macy’s Sears Plus for their next stop.
The Cartmans stop at the shoe store as Menorah is quite particular about her shoes, especially for big events. While she looks through different dress shoes to go with the olive green dress, Moisha is seated outside the dressing room, anxious to get to his favorite spot in the mall. After an eternity, Menorah finally has the shoes to go with her olive green dresses for which their father goes up to the front counter to pay.
Once the family are outside the shop, Eric starts to look at his watch.
”Oh my, we’ve been here for quite some time. I suppose we should get ready to leave so your mother isn’t left waiting.”
At these words, Moisha’s heart sinks like a stone. He won’t get to go after all.
”Hold on a moment”, says his father with a sly grin, “I believe we have one more place to stop before we leave.”
Moisha’s ears perk up. “Where, the fishing store? Beefcake does need a safety vest in case he has to face Dr. Hook and his evil stingray minions again.”
”Oh no, son, not the fishing store.”
”Oh, the security place? I have been trying to fight off those gnomes trying to steal my underwear.”
”Don’t worry, Moisha, we don’t need to stop at the security shop.” Eric had already stopped there three days ago, damn gnomes.
”Oh-oh, It must be the bath and body shop! I know Mom said we needed more hand soap for the bathroom.”
”We do?”, asked a somewhat surprised Rabbi Cartman before resuming his train of thought, “Never mind, that isn’t the place I was thinking of.”
”Where, Dad?”, asks a puzzled Moisha.
”Perhaps it’s a surprise”, his father smiles.
After four minutes of walking where Moisha had blindfolded himself to avoid spoiling the surprise, and Menorah guiding him so that he doesn’t bump into anything, the children and their father arrive at their destination.
”Can I look now, Dad?”, asks Moisha eagerly.
”Yes you can, son.”
Moisha starts undoing his blindfold-with a bit of help from his sister-before he finally sees-wait, what? Really? Can it be?! It is, it is, it IS! It’s Roy’s Model Trains Prime Plus, exactly where Moisha had been so hopeful of going.
”Oh thank you, Dad, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!”
As his father cheerfully accepts the gratitude, Moisha immediately darts for the store, desperate to scrutinize every nook and cranny of each aisle while envisioning how he can expand his model railway at home.
Most families would use their attic to store decorations or various odds and ends. Since the Cartmans are Jewish, there’s no need for a huge Christmas tree or anything of that nature, and whatever odds and ends there are to store wouldn’t take up a significant degree of space anyway. As a result of this as well as Moisha’s passion for trains and railways, Eric and Yentl decided to let their son have the attic as a space to build his model railway. The railway started off rather modest, but over the course of three years has become quite an impressive scene, especially for a young boy just about to leave the third grade behind.
As he walks the store, Moisha is looking for one particular building to round out the Northeastern side of his little railway. He already has most of Main Street in place, from the bakery to the postal office, even an art shop. Yet one building that’s continued to allude the young boy is City Hall. If he’s going to have a town and railway, then there must be a place for the mayor to do mayor things! But alas, City Hall continues to evade Moisha no matter how long and hard he looks for it.
Finally, Moisha comes upon one model building on display, his eyes immediately lighting up.
“Dad! Dad! It’s here, it’s here!”, he cries excitedly.
”What’s here?”, asks his father.
”City Hall, it’s here! I’ve been looking for ages to find City Hall!”, the excitable boy declares as he jumps up and down with jubilation.
”Oh my, it is!”, his father says as he feels so happy for his son.
At this moment, an employee walks up to the two in an effort to assist them.
”May I help you folks, today?”, the employee asks cheerfully.
”Oh yes, sir, my son has been looking for a City Hall for his model railway for several months and just noticed this display here.”
”Well, your boy is in luck ’cause we got three of them in the back.”
”Excellent”, says the rabbi, “I will take one for my son.”
”Fantastic, that will be 83.99”
Eric briefly winces but presses on as the pure, unadulterated joy on his son’s face leaves no room for debate.
Later that evening, Moisha goes up to the attic with his new kit, ready to add the piece de resistance to the Northeastern section of the Cartman Railway.
”Just gotta get this kit open and put City Hall and then paint it.”
As Moisha starts piecing the building together, the family cat climbs up the attic stairs as Moisha’s father follows suit.
”Oh Beefcake, there you are!”, calls Eric as he sees the cat wraps around his son’s feet.
”I see you’re working on City Hall now.”
”Oh yes, and Beefcake is going to help me! Aren’t you, Beefcake?”
Beefcake nudges his head upward slightly with polite disinterest before resting his head back in place.
”Beefcake is just a bit tired from his trip to Venezuela.”
“Well, why don’t I help while Beefcake rests?”, offers Eric.
”Sure dad, that would be great!”
Father and son immediately begin working on the model railway’s newest addition, from its assembly to the paint job, a mix of reds, whites, and yellows. Now all that has to be done is the placement.
”Would you like to do the honors, son?”
Eric doesn’t have to ask his son twice before Moisha eagerly places City Hall within its designated spot on Main Street.
Just as City Hall in settled into place, one of the two trains on the railway passes by. It’s #5153, a Baldwin 2-6-2T Class 10 steam locomotive that Moisha had been gifted for his eighth birthday, pulling a passenger train through the countryside of the Cartman Railway.
”Look Snowy, City Hall is finally here!”, calls Moisha.
All Eric can do is smile, taking in the radiant bliss on his son’s face as he excitedly talks about everything that can be done with the railway.