Fandom: South Park
Rating: PG-13, because it's South Park.
Summary: Wendy can't repress her attraction to overweight people any longer and now her sex drive is up to full blast. A long argument between her and Cartman pointlessly ensues. Written as a penance for citizenjess. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
It all started when she caught herself jacking off to fat fetish art.
Wendy’s inexplicable discovery of “Hot Potatoes – The Best Inflation Site on the Net!” had gotten her so horny and embarrassed that she used menstruation as an excuse for performing actions that broke any of her personal taboos. She spent hours pouring over magazines detailing how to lose weight, insisting to herself that she was only doing this to keep her weight in balance. She denied that she was really searching hungrily for the “Before” pictures.
And no, she wasn’t staring at that fat ass.
She was admiring that fat, fine ass.
“What’re you following me around for, ho?” Cartman spat at her.
“I’m not following you. We’re just walking in the same direction.”
“So we live in the same home, too?”
“I wish. I mean, no! I mean—oh, fuck this!”
Wendy’s sudden usage of the Eff-Word compelled Cartman to stop walking and turn around.
“Eric Cartman, I wanna squeeze your fat ass and never let go,” she began, “I wanna bury my face in you and inhale the sweet aroma of those Cheesy Poofs you ate a few hours ago still present on your clothing. I wanna peel off that clothing and lick the sweat off your fleshy hunks of lard. Bottom line is: I wanna fuck you brains out!”
Wendy inhaled and exhaled vigorously. Cartman stared at her, mouth open in awe, fright, offense, and arousement.
“Uh…sweet?” he finally answered, “You aren’t bullshitting me this time, are you? Because if this is gonna be like last time where I thought we were gonna hit it off and then just when you smooched me I somehow sucked all of those feelings you had for me out of you then—”
“No! Shut up and sex me up, fat boy!”
“Hey! If you’re gonna to keep that fat talk up, then you can forget all about me sticking my wee-wee in your pooper, you horny bitch!”
“And if you’re going to keep that sexist talk up, then you can forget all about me getting in the kitchen and making you a sandwich, you fat fuck!”
The two continued bickering past the stage of being blue in the face, and ignorant of the setting around them. Evening came, and morning followed. Kenny died, and Kyle cried. Cartman and Wendy were on their knees, panting, using the little amount of energy they had left to crawl towards each other, still uttering curses and insults.
“You know…I learned something today,” said Wendy weakly, “Arguing is a lot like…fucking.”
Sighs of sexual satisfaction issued from the two before vomiting as they finally collapsed to the sidewalk.