Operation: KYLE

(TW: slurs, swears, offensive language, mistakes, you name it. Also warning: do not try this at home /j)

"What the hell are you talking about? You never said anything about dressing." I scowled. "Yeah, but if I did, you wouldn't be in this." Cartman admitted under his breath. "Oh, my-" I crashed my hands to my face, while Stan stays silent with pink dusting all over his face for some darn reason, and Kenny's just... there, looking okay with it. Craig– I don't even wanna know what he's thinking about all of this. About us. "Can't you just call Butters to do all that 'dressing' thing?" Stan questions Cartman. "Or the actual girls?" Craig adds in, too.

Cartman winces a bit. "Craig, have you seen the girls? Of course they're not gonna fucking join in. And Stan, well, even if I did, it won't be enough." "Enough what?" "Girls." "Oh, for fucks sa-" "Let's do it." Kenny chimes in. We all look at Kenny, like he's the abnormal here, well, he kind of is right now, considering he had just said that. He gives us a shrug. "'Fortune favors the brave'." He quoted. He's that desperate, huh. I roll my eyes towards Cartman. "Just how many girls do we need?"

"Umm..." He started counting with his fingers. "Since there's six of us, including Butters, we'll need at least three for look out, so... like, three." All of us blink all at once. "Why three?" I ask. "Because, I made three girl accounts." We froze. "Last ones to not call dibs is doing it– dibs on not doing it." Kenny swiftly announced, touching his nose in the speed of light. "Dibs on not doing it." I rapidly asserted as I touched my nose. Stan quickly follows by touching his nose. That means Craig, and Cartman are the last ones to touch their nose, plus Butters.

"Hey, no fair! I wasn't ready!" Cartman accused as he pointed towards us. Stan went poker-faced. "So what, dude, you're last– suck it up. Besides, you should be used to dressing up as a girl by now." "Yeah, but I'm not in the mood right now!" "What does that even mean, you're already wearing a wig, anyway!" "I was just– fuck! Forget it! ... Pussies." He wailed. "I am not okay with this." Craig nonchalantly murmured, grinding his teeth, and showing his braces in the process. "Come on, it's really not that bad, dude, coming from me." Kenny tries convince him. "Then you do it." Craig countered, shooting him a nasty stare. "No, thanks, I'm good." He says with zero hesitation, Craig returns him a groan. "I'll call up Butters." I volunteered as I started walking out of Cartman's room.

I stopped by his door, and dialed Butters' number. Doot... doot... doot... click! "H-hello?" The other line answered. "Butters! Hey!" Silence drowned both of us, right after then, I heard some shuffling in the other line. "O-oh! Kyle! Hey, fella!" He sounds tremulous. "Hey, hi, Butters! Um, so, like, we need a favor to ask you." It took him a brief moment to reply. "'We?'" "Oh, yeah, we, as in me, Stan, Cartman, Kenny, and Craig." "O-oh! Well, sure, fella! W-whaddya need?" I nibbled on my bottom lip, hesitant to tell him that we only need him for Marjorine, again. I remember the last time we used 'Marjorine', she was almost stuck in a well. And like what you expect from his parents, he got grounded, of course. I always felt bad for lame old Butters, but, anyways, I tell him, regardless. "We need Marjorine." Nothing is heard from the other line, until I hear Butters fretted out a 'Oh, jeez...' under his breath.

It took him a few seconds for him to reply back before verifying. "W-what do ya need her f-for?" He ponders. I tell him Cartman's plan to raise money, and he stays silent all the way. "Come to Cartman's house if you're in. But, I don't blame you for not coming. We did just run in to a bank robbery yesterday. Well, see ya." I said before hanging up my phone. I trudged back to Cartman's room as I greeted Mrs. Cartman. "So? What'd he say?" Kenny began while handing Craig a wig that's the same color as his hair, who had a huge grimace on his face. "I let him up on the offer. I told him we wouldn't be mad if he didn't join." Cartman out a huff. "I have a feeling he'll show." "Why's that?" Stan inquires. He raises his shoulders. "Just a gut's feeling." Stan's brows narrow in thought.