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Arnold: Okay guys. Ready for the next fic? Helga: Hopefully it's not boring.


DATE: JAN. 13 (FRIDAY) TIME: 09:04 PM NIGHT OF THE MARTIN LUTHER KING MEMORIAL DANCE BROFLOVSKI HOUSE COUNTDOWN: 31 DAYS


Arnold: Don't you just LOVE those kinds of openings? I do. It puts you rght in the story without unnecessary bullsh--.


In the Broflovski's living room, Stan and Charlie (the latter wearing a silly-looking pink dress) sit on the couch while Kyle, hatless, sits on the floor. They are playing X-Box. Charlie, who was focused intently on the game, suddenly looks startled.

Charlie: Wait-wait, what? Who's shooting at me?

Stan (still staring at the television): Your ass is mine, bitch.


Arnold: And right away we get our first funny scene.

Helga: Well it's a South Park fic. It's supposed to be funny.


Charlie makes a panicky attempt to save her character from a cruel demise at the hands of her foster-brother, but inevitably fails.

Charlie: Ah... oh, no! Goddamn it, Stan! [She tosses down her controller.] Fuck this game.

Stan smirks and looks at his watch.

Stan: Oh crap. I think we'd better go, Charlie. It's getting late. [To Kyle] Bye, dude.

Kyle puts his hat back on and stands up as Stan and Charlie hop off the couch. Stan walks over to the door. Charlie holds her right arm with her left hand and avoids eye contact with the boys.

Stan: Charlie, come on. We need to go.

Charlie glances over at Kyle.

Charlie: Bye, Kyle.

She puts her hat on and follows Stan out the door without looking back. Kyle watches them through the window as they walk down the street. He sighs, then he looks annoyed. He kicks the door.

Kyle: Shit! Shit, shit, fucking shit! I was [kicking the door again] so [again] fucking [again] close!

Gerald hears the noise and walks into the room.

Gerald: Kyle! What are you doing?

Kyle stops and sighs.

Kyle: Dad, did you ever like a girl, but you were always too scared to actually tell her?

Gerald sits down on the couch and pats the seat beside him.

Gerald: Come here, son.

Kyle hops up onto the couch next to his dad. Gerald's trademark "giving advice" music begins to play.

Gerald: Kyle, when I was in college, I met a very special woman. She was beautiful, intelligent, sweet… She had everything going for her. I must have walked up to her a thousand times with the intention of asking her out, and every time, I would lose my nerve, have nothing to say, and end up looking like a complete jackass.

Kyle: Let me guess: it was Mom.

Gerald: Let me finish the story, Kyle. So, anyway, while I was still trying to work up the courage to ask this girl on a date, a friend of mine set me up on a blind date. I went into that date thinking it would be a complete waste of time, but it wasn't: you see, that date was with your mom.

Kyle: So… Mom wasn't the girl you were talking about before?


Arnold: Of course not. Who would want Kyle's mom to be their FIRST date?


Gerald: Huh? Oh, no, that, that was Karen. [He sighs and looks up dreamily.] Oh, Karen.

Kyle: So then what's the point of the story?

Gerald: You see, Kyle, we as men are very proud creatures. We don't take rejection well, and as a result, we often back down from opportunities we see as risks because of our innate fear of failure.

Kyle: …But what does that have to do with anything?

Gerald: The point is, Kyle, [he rests a hand on Kyle's hat] that everything works out for the best.

Kyle (annoyed): …But what does that have to do with anything?

Gerald: Hmm. You know, I don't really remember where I was going with that. [The music stops. Kyle gets off the sofa and walks away, annoyed.] Kyle? Kyle? Is she Jewish? Kyle?


Arnold: Well that's the story. Chapter one anyway. And....It's awesome.

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