Eric Broflovski was not, how one would say, a “good child.” In fact, he was probably the biggest fucking brat to ever exist. Therefore, it would go without saying, that Eric was grounded very, very often. The only kid grounded more often than Eric was Butters.
But the difference between Eric being grounded and Butters being grounded was that Eric deserved it, and he completely and 100% understood why he was being grounded. And that was only because his mom would sit him down and talk to him about it. Not because he, yanno, really felt any guilt or anything.
“Eric!” Sheila shrieked. Everyone froze. Eric cringed, slowly turning to face his mother.
“Eric, what is the meaning of this?” Sheila tapped her foot impatiently, holding the hand of a tear-streaked Butters. “Why was one of your friends locked in the basement?”
“Oooooooh~” the other boys said in sync.
“You’re in trooubleee~” Kenny finished, pointing at Eric.
“Mooom,” Eric whined. He glanced fearfully at his laughing and pointing friends. “We just wanted to make Butters a superhero!”
“Eric, no excuses,” Sheila chided, “You apologize to Butters right this instant, and then you’re going to your room.”
Butters sniffled, looking up at Eric through his lashes, gently knocking his knuckles. Eric glared, his cheeks turning pink while the other boys continued to snicker.
“Sorry for locking you in the basement with Kenny’s possum.” Eric mumbled.
“Aw, shucks, Eric,” Butters said, “I accept your apology.” Butters then launched himself at Eric in a tight, snotty hug.
“Thank you, Eric, now go up to your room.”
Eric grumbled as he started walking up the stairs. Sheila began ushering the rest of the boys out the door.
“Goodbye boys! You can—” Sheila paused. “What-what-what did you say about a possum?”
Eric laid on his bed, frowning as he held Clyde Frog above him.
“I know, Clyde Frog, and I didn’t even get to finish designing my costume.” Eric sighed, pulling Clyde Frog down to his chest. “This blows.”
“Since we’re gonna be stuck in here for a while, what kind of game do you think we should play?” Eric sat up on his bed, holding Clyde Frog in his lap.
“Okay, I definitely heard something that time,” Eric stopped, listening. The tapping sound became more insistent. Then it stopped. “Huh, I guess it’s gone now.”
Eric jumped, finally looking towards his window. From between the curtains, he saw a curled fist pressed against the glass. Confused, and slightly nervous, Eric clutched Clyde Frog in his arms as he hopped off of his bed, walking towards the window. He stretched his arm out as far as he could, keeping as much distance between himself and the window; he pinched the curtains between his fingers, quickly pulling them towards himself with a wince.
Was is possible for a tap on a window to sound annoyed? Eric opened his eyes and saw Kyle glaring at him.
“Oh, shit!” Eric said, a surprised smile on his face as he scrambled to unlock his window. The window slid upwards and Kyle clambered in, almost falling into Eric’s arms with all the grace of an elephant in a mouse parade. The two ended up collapsed onto the floor, trying to shake the dizziness out of their heads.
“Eric? Are you okay in there, bubbie?” Sheila called from down the hall. Eric’s eyes widened.
“Uh—Yeah, Mom!” Eric called back, “I’m fine!”
“Okay, sweetie; just remember your bedtime!”
Eric heard his mom’s footsteps go down the stairs, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“What are you doing here, Kahl?” Eric couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice, his eyes glittering as he leaned forward towards Kyle.
“Shut up, fatass,” Kyle hissed, his eyes darting to the door. His voice dropped into a whisper. “I didn’t finish telling you how fucking stupid your argument was.”
“Hmm,” Eric hummed, a finger tapping his chin in faux thought, “Which one?”
“The one where you said Aquaman would beat Batman in a fight!” Kyle rose to a stand, marching over to drop onto Eric’s bed where he proceeded to begin outlining his argument.
Eric looked up at him from his seat on the floor. For a second he was stuck in a daze. Then he stood and jumped onto the bed, his weight causing Kyle to roll over into his side.
“All I’m saying is that there’s nothing that can withstand the raw fighting force of a billion crabs, Kahl—”
Kyle’s glared, opening a mental notebook for a refute. They argued until Sheila knocked on Eric’s door and told him it was time for bed.
“This isn’t over!” Kyle said as he climbed out the windowsill.
It wasn’t the first time Kyle had snuck over, and it wouldn’t be the last.