He couldnât remember the last time he was this mad. If anyone saw the normally cheerful blond teenager stomping down the street to the Cartman residence, they would see less of a teenager and more of a storm. He couldnât believe what he did this time. He felt torn, betrayed, and a layer of sorrow and anger at himself for even believing him was just below the surface. Buttersâs face was pulled into a harsh scowl as he thought about Eric. The way he comforted him, the way he had held him while he had cried. The way his words twisted his mind once again, he knew better to assume anything Eric said was true and yet he did. Time and time again. But he swore, that this was the last time he ever associated or even looked in Ericâs direction. He was a monster.
It was an open secret how he was treated at home, sure people might not know the extent, but Eric most certainly did. He used that, he manipulated Buttersâs mind until it was putty. He wanted to scream and lash out at the world. However, he couldnât. He only had one person to holler at. Eric wasnât going to get away with it this time. Faking his parents death? Leaving a trail of blood and guts? That was too much. Eric had once again broke his heart, and he wasnât sure how many more times he would have to put it back together. This time, he swore he was done. He was done with virus poisoning his mind, he was done feeling destroyed by Eric Cartman.
Butters arrived at the house on the war path, before going over to the fenced off backyard. He easily climbed over the fence and hopped, not minding the splinters. He knew Eric as well as Eric knew Butters, their back door slider was always unlocked. Walking in, Butters stormed up the stairs, all the while getting madder. He wasnât being quiet or light on his feet, let Eric know what chaos was coming.
Butters threw open the door, before slamming it behind him. The glare in his eyes was hotter than a thousand suns, and his hands were curled into such tight fists. Eric had a way of dominating a room. If not for his weight, but for his presence. Butters felt himself shrink a little, intimidated as always, but he stubbornly held his ground. He wasnât 8 anymore.
âEric that does it!â Butters yelled, getting closer to the person who he stupidly called his friend. âYou are darn lucky that I know how to clean up blood and that the trash is coming tonight. I had to make nonrefundable deposits on coffins and funeral services that I had to cancel!â
Butters felt himself getting madder and madder as he carried on. âMy parents are alive! They are in Hawaii! They texted me a video of themselves partying it up! Whyâd you have to go and convince me they were dead?â
Butters huffed, not used to expelling that much anger that wasnât passive aggressive. âSay your piece and thatâs it, Iâm done. Weâre done. Iâm not gonna be your little buddy anymore!â
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