SP: Mulligatawny -Cartylan-

The word Mulligatawny comes from the Tamil word 'Milagutanni' - 'Milagu' meaning pepper and 'tanni', which means water.

Chapter One: Outset</u>

Sitting on his bed now seemed to add to the humiliation that Cartman, who was standing a few feet away, bestowed upon him. Kyle held back tears. It’s all he could do, really, as he took in the situation at hand.

He looked back down, half seeing the picture in his hands, half falling deep into his thoughts.

Cartman was no doubt going to take the picture and show the Jew’s poor and unknowing mother.

It was a simple picture, obvious that no one took much time or effort to get the situation documented. But it was enough. And there it was. A picture of him helping his little brother, the 12 year old Ike, ‘Eat Slime’.

‘Eating Slime’ was the newest drug faze around South Park, after a truck full of the poisonous frogs crashed right outside of town. Of course, Kenny was the first to discover that they could send you on a high comparable to acid… and he was eager to sell it to his friends.

Kyle’s mind was long gone in a matter of minutes… leave it to terrible fate to have Ike show up.

Now his little brother was at the hospital... in a coma.

“I’m not showing this to you just to see the look on your face, so if you’d please pay attention to what I’m saying, that would be great.” The Neo-Nazi towered over him, almost a good seven inches. Cartman had lost his baby-fat over the years, but still remained over weight. His seemingly gentle face was framed perfectly by his silk light-brown hair.

Kyle looked through his bedroom window, trying to distract his eyes, so his mind could focus. His whole body felt cold and he instinctively pulled his bright orange parka tighter around his slender body.

“Blackmail.” The red head said it monotone, as if he already knew what the other was planning.

He didn’t.

“No, Kahl, you’re not black. You’re Jewish.”

Kyle groaned inwardly at the play on words. “Jewmail.”

Cartman nodded solemnly. He was trying to be as professional as he could with this, Kyle could tell.

“What do I have to do? Cook your food, do your homework, be your slave… renounce my faith?” Kyle wasn’t sure if he would go as far as that for something like this… Well, maybe…

“I need you to become my boyfriend.” Silence filled the room for a good few minutes.

Cartman let that silence sit for a while, let it brew within the depths of the shorter boys consciousness.

Too many things passed through Kyle’s mind in those few minutes, that all he could let out was a simple “What.”

“You… Do you remember that gay kid that joined our class a few weeks ago…. What’s his face… uh…” Cartman pressed the back of his hand to his lips, gaining an expression of being deep in thought. “Bradley! That’s his name.” He nodded to himself, then turned back to Kyle to see if he had managed to keep his attention. Kyle slowly nodded. “Good.” He sighed, obviously irritated at the thought, and continued, “Well, the fag has me getting sent to a… toleration camp. A gay toleration camp. Literally.”

“What’d you do to him?” It was a question that seemed to hold interest in what was being said, but was in all-reality a very numbed question.

“T-that doesn’t matter.” Cartman was starting to sound upset… Interesting. “What matters is that I need you to help them realize that I’m tolerant, I just don’t like him.”


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Kyle sighed and let his body fall heavily against the couch. He closed his eyes, finally letting out the breath he had been holding since he had knocked on the door.

It was very clearly Erik Cartman’s couch, as he could feel cheesy poofs crunch under his ass and the stench of years of use made his stomach turn.

“Can I get you something, dear?” Kyle flinched at the last word, but opened his eyes.

“No thanks, Ms. Cartman.” He said flatly.

“There’s no need to call me that now, Kyle!” Leanne said, clasping her hands together. “We’re like family now!”

He took a big breath, as it was all he could do to keep from groaning out loud. “What would you prefer I call you?”

“Ay!” they both looked at each other, startled for a second, then looked towards the doorway to the basement.

“Yes, honey?” Erik’s mother replied, her voice as gentle sounding as always.

“Is that the Jew I hear?” Kyle gave up on trying to hold back the groan and stood up.

“Yeah.” He said rather loudly, making Leanne flinch. He brushed the cheesy treats off his coat and started downstairs.


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Cartman sat at his desk with his headset half on and half off and his cat lounging on his shoulders, rubbing against his neck. He turned towards his new-found flame.

“I told you to be here an hour ago. Where the fuck have you been?” Cartman stood up, causing ‘kitty’ to jump off and hiss at Kyle.

Kyle felt his words come out like ice, as cold as his heart felt after the events of only minutes before. “I was busy getting picked off my family tree, thank you.” He clenched his fists, but that only made Erik’s smug smile return to his face.

“Well, when this is over, you can go back to them… On your knees.”


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Kyle just wanted to go back to his mom and cry in her arms… But if he told her the truth, or if Cartman did, then he would still be without a family, but also in prison….. ‘And Moses only knows what’ll happen to a skinny Jewish kid in prison.’

He looked down sadly as a plate of chicken was set in front of him. This was technically Cartman and his ‘first date’. Leave it to him to kick Kyle when he’s down.

“Kahl, it’s kosher.” The fatter boy stated in a whisper. He was obviously embarrassed to be dating a Jew.

Figures.

They were sitting in a quiet family-owned restaurant, in a small U-shaped booth, and were only a foot away from each other. Kyle closed his eyes and inhaled. He smelled the breakfast platter his date had ordered… complete with bacon.

“I know that. I ordered it.”

He heard Erik let out a deep breath. But it didn’t really seem like an upset gesture, just a relaxed one.

Kyle jumped slightly as he felt an arm snake around his neck. Looking down, he realized that Cartman was trying to feed him a piece of the chicken. Kyle pushed away the fork, but it came right back in his face.

“Eat it.”

He felt like an innocent and abandoned child, under the weight of a strangers arm.