South Park Fan Fiction ❯ Cartman Rising ❯ Takeover ( Chapter 8 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

So, within just a few short weeks of setting my plans into motion, Stan and Clyde had already been taken care of. Stan had dropped out of school, and spent all his time in a depressed, drunken state (I guess the knowledge that Wendy really wasn't coming back this time—and more importantly, that she was mine—was hitting him pretty hard). It was all Kyle could do to keep him on his feet and off the streets.

Clyde was in worse shape. He had also dropped out of school, and Bebe had dumped him. She was already eager for our arrangement of new shoes for her. Clyde's classmates had thus far not let him forget that fateful incident in the hallway. And I heard a rumor that he had already tried to commit suicide, but had failed. Twice.

But, of course, world domination plans were not all fun and games. So, now that Wendy was completely on board, I called a meeting to discuss our next move. Kenny, Butters, Wendy, Ike, and Craig all joined me in my basement.

"Gentlemen, and lady," I said, motioning to Wendy, "we are now ready to begin."

"Our logical goal in this endeavor should be the United States. If we can only gain control of the United States, then we will have enough weaponry and political power to slowly conquer the entire world. America is the most powerful nation on earth; once we have it, getting the rest should be easy."

Craig yawned.

Kenny looked skeptical. "And just how do you propose we take over the U.S.? The last time I checked, none of us are old enough to be president," he asked, taking a sip of water.

"You're thinking too small, Kenny," I chastised. "Becoming president has too many rules and restrictions; it would take years. And even if one of us did become president, he or she would just have to follow more rules, like the Constitution and proper protocol, et cetera. The president is not the supreme ruler. That's out."

"What we should do, is take over control of a smaller, more casually ruled country, and then annex America from there."

Craig shook his head. "How the hell are we going to take over the United States from a smaller country?"

I smiled. "Oh, I'll think of something, Craig."

Craig still wasn't convinced. "I suppose you've already picked out the crap country in question?"

"Mexico," I announced.

Kenny spluttered his water all over the table. I wiped it off my jacket in disgust. "Kenny, that's fucking nasty!"

"Says the guy who made Clyde shit his pants," Craig smirked.

But Kenny hadn't heard either of us. "Mexico? Why would we want to take over Mexico? Why would anyone want to take over Mexico?"

"Because it's very unlikely to arouse suspicion," I explained. "Besides, just in case the rest of the plan doesn't work, we'll still be ruling a country. A great man once said, 'It is better to rule in hell than serve in heaven.'"

Ike raised his hand. "That was Satan."

"Oh…" That's right, it was. Well, that was an embarrassing slip.

"You're still forgetting one thing, Cartman," Kenny pointed out. "Mexico is worse than hell! And how exactly is taking over Mexico going to be easier than taking over the U.S., anyway? We're not even Mexican citizens (thank God)."

"That's the easy part," I chuckled. "It just so happens that we already have the man who can lead Mexico. In fact, he already is the rightful ruler of Mexico."

"What?" exclaimed Ike. "Who?"

I said nothing, but glanced over at Butters. Told you he was essential, didn't I?

Butters explained. "Well, I was in charge of Mexico for a little while."

"Exactly," I said. "At the Second Coming of Mantequilla, Butters will be accompanied by his royal brotherhood—us—who will stand in unity and dominion over the Mexican people, bringing an era of peace and prosperity for all time."

There was a stunned silence. For the first time since I gave my original proposal, everyone listening genuinely believed that my plan could work. Even Ike and Craig looked fairly convinced.

"Now, this next move is still going to be a difficult one for all of us," I solemnly said. "We will all have to leave our friends and family to go rule Mexico. The first few weeks may be difficult—it is an underdeveloped country, after all—but that's why we're going there; to try and make the world a better place through our leadership. And this parting need only be temporary; if you choose, your families can come live with us after we've become their rulers.

"Pack your bags. We leave on Saturday."

My last days in South Park were the best times I had ever had. I finally was able to tell all the teachers and students exactly what I thought of them. Especially Kyle. I even managed to get him mad enough to start a fight. That landed us both in weekend detention. Little did Kyle know I wouldn't be serving it with him.

I had also instructed the others to not to tell anyone that we were leaving. Ike and Butters were spending their time trying to make the most of what few days they had left in this town, knowing they may not see these people for a long time. Kenny and Craig, on the other hand, were following my lead, and making sure the school would never forget them after they were gone.

Wendy barely changed her routine. To her friends, she was just the same old Wendy. The only difference was, having taken my advice to not hide behind her veil of benevolence, she had "shown her colors," so to speak. Her usually happy subjects in the student body began to quiver in fear as the SGA president's iron fist closed in around them, no longer cloaked in the hand of friendship. I knew that she was just like me.

When the day finally arrived, all of my partners left notes telling their parents where they would be, what we were doing (there was no way they could stop us at this point), and that we would call them later. Then we piled into my pickup truck and Wendy's hybrid, and drove out of South Park, through the desert, past the border, and into Mexico. All without incident.

Upon arriving in Mexico City, we were greeted by a huge crowd of happy Mexicans. The president of Mexico, we heard, had found out we were coming and killed himself before Butters' loyal followers could assassinate him. So we literally just walked into the president's former residence without resistance.

"We should renovate this place into a real palace," I muttered. "Well, Butters, it's time for you to make your speech."

"A sp-speech?" Butters asked. He looked out at the crowd, and rubbed his knuckles together nervously. "I don't know if I can—"

"Don't worry, Butters. I'll talk you through it," I assured him.

With my help, Butters addressed the crowd. He told them of what he had done since he left the country eight years ago, and how he had become part of our group, the Brotherhood of Six. He explained that he had come back to lead them, just as he promised, and that this would mark the beginning of a new and great era for the country of Mexico. All of this was put very eloquently and very persuasively (with my help).

As it turned out, he probably could have stood in front of the crowd and just waved. Long before he was finished, the crowd was already completely behind him. "¡Dios te salve Mantequilla!" they cheered. "¡El que era el rey, y ahora es el rey otra vez!"

That night, I left a message for each of my partners' families, giving them our number, and telling them that they could reach us at any time, provided we weren't on official business. The next day, the calls came pouring in.

Kenny reassured his parents that he was alright, and promised that they would see him soon. He also said that, if he could, he would send them any kinds of valuables he could get his hands on. Ah, he was such a good kid.

Wendy seemed rather stern with her parents. They had insisted she come home immediately, and she had told them off, saying that she could never have been satisfied by her life in South Park. Things started to get a little personal after that; she told them, "Yes, I am having sex with Eric Cartman. What are you going to do about it?" I smiled, and Kenny cheered.

When Butters's parents called, they were furious. They yelled at him for about ten minutes straight, and demanded that he return to South Park immediately, or he would be grounded for the rest of his life, instead of just ten years. Butters gritted his teeth for a moment, and then grew a spine at last and said, "Mom and Dad…you two can just suck my balls." Then he hung up; I was pretty sure that they wouldn't be calling back.

No one called for Craig. I guess even his parents were glad to be rid of him.

Then a phone call came for me. It was Kyle.

"What the hell are you doing, fatass?"

"I believe I already told you. I am going to take over the world, and I am currently in Mexico, carrying out my promise."

Kyle laughed. "Cartman, you don't know the first thing about ruling a country. Your plans will be in ruins within a week."

"Oh, yeah? Well, we'll just see about that, won't we, Kyle?"

"I don't have any qualms about you making a fool of yourself. But you will bring my little brother back home, right now! My parents are worried sick!"

"Your brother is fine, Kyle, but he's not coming back yet. He doesn't want to."

I heard the phone change hands, and Kyle's bitch of a mother came on.

"Eric, this is Mrs. Broflovski. Please bring our boy back; we miss him," she said.

Despite the contempt I felt for the woman, I decided it would be best to be civil. "Ma'am, your little boy is about to be famous," I said. "In a week, he's going to be officially crowned as one of the six rulers of Mexico. At thirteen, he'll be the youngest national leader in the world."

"We just want him to come home."

"Did I mention that, as a national leader, he will be rich beyond your wildest dreams? And that I'm sure he would be willing to share his fabulous wealth with his loyal family?"

There was a pause. "Really?"

"Yes. You'll never want again. Your piles of Jew gold will double, or maybe even triple in size."

I heard some distant conversation on the other end between Kyle and his mom. I distinctly heard the bitch tell her son, "Maybe it's for the best." The Kyle grabbed the phone. "Has everyone but me gone completely fucking insane?" Then he apologized to his mom for the profane outburst, and I snickered.

"You really should get that sand out of your vagina, Kyle."

"SHUT UP! You bring my brother back, NOW!"

I gave Ike the phone. "I'm staying," was all he said. Then he handed it back to me. Kyle sounded ready to cry on the other end.

"Please…"

"No can do, Jew boy. He's happy here, happier than he ever was with you."

At that, Kyle completely broke down and sobbed. It was a sound I could listen to all day. But then again, it was reasonable that even he could be feeling sadness right now. His best friend was all washed up, and his little brother had just become my disciple. He didn't think his life could possibly get any worse.

Boy, was he wrong. And speaking of which…

"By the way, Kyle, you know our 'little secret?' That I was supposedly going around getting revenge on all my old friends?"

He sniffed. "Yes…"

"Well, I wouldn't warn them, if I were you. That will just make it worse for them," I laughed. "But don't you worry; I have something very, very special planned for you."

I waited just long enough to hear him gasp. Then I hung up.

Sweet.

Finally, the day of our official coronation ceremony arrived. The Mexicans donated clothes that looked as much like royal robes as they could find. They also fashioned some tin crowns for us (oh well, we'll get gold ones eventually).

Then the moment finally came. The Mexicans all came forth, and pledged undying loyalty to the Brotherhood of Six and their new government. And we were all crowned as co-rulers of the entire country.

I almost cried with happiness. I had waited for a moment like this all my life. I was now in charge (at least in part) of an entire nation. It may have been a small, crappy nation, but it was a start. The world would soon be in my grasp.

Then we all walked back inside our pseudo-palace, away from our appointed servants, and cheered. We were well on our way to reaching our goal. "This calls for celebration," I announced. "Butters?"

Butters whistled. His hookers, whom he had sent for earlier in the week, walked into the room single file, dressing in as little clothing as they could manage.

"Gentlemen," I said, gesturing towards the girls, "choose."

Ike's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Butters smiled. Craig, as usual, didn't react. And Kenny asked, "Can I pick two?" Eventually, they all chose partners. Then they all looked expectantly at me. Wendy gave me a puzzled look, and I smiled in return.

"No thanks," I said. "I've already got someone. If she'll have me." Wendy, with tears of happiness, rushed into my arms and kissed me. And I kissed her in return, thrilled that I had had the chance to prove that I would choose her above all other women.

And outside, the crowd continued to cheer: "¡Viva México! ¡Viva la Hermandad de Seis!"

And now for some quick translation: "¡Dios te salve Mantequilla! ¡El que era el rey, y ahora es el rey otra vez!" means "Hail Mantequilla! He who was king, and now is king again!" (a play on a line from "The Once and Future King")

Also, "¡Viva México! ¡Viva la Hermandad de Seis!" means "Long live Mexico! Long live the Brotherhood of Six!" (a play on a line from "Animal Farm")