Ship In A Bottle || South Park Pirate AU

Eight

In which truths are discovered which were better left in the dark

Kyle came up after breakfast on Saturday morning to find that Tweek had fulfilled her end of the bargain. She was standing with Stan, who was unravelling a few scrolls that presumably came from her, and Craig, who was preoccupied by the cage that sat on the floor between them.

"No!" she said, crossing her arms. "No way. Absolutely not. I won't allow it." The parrot on her shoulder looked as equally exasperated as she did, staring down at the mass of fur in the cage with bitter beady eyes.

"What else am I supposed to do with him?" said Tweek. "Father and Mother treat him like he's some feral beast."

"That he is."

"He is not! Without me there to stick up for him, they'll throw him onto the streets."

"Not my problem." Craig rubbed her now bandage-free nose indifferently with the back of her hand. "That thing has to go."

"Ah, Kyle." Stan had caught him watching from afar. "Come here."

Kyle approached nervously, hovering closer to him than Craig and Tweek. Did his mere presence violate his agreement with Tweek? She seemed to think so, based on the side-eye she was giving him. But they were going to be living together now, so she'd just have to get used to it. He'd treat her like she told him to treat her cat: Don't bother her, and she wouldn't bother him.

"Craig, tell Kyle what you and Tweek are arguing about now," said Stan, oozing with boredom.

So much for that plan, thought Kyle, suppressing a sigh.

Craig put her hands on her hips. "Tweek has had the terrible idea to bring that awful cat of hers with her."

"Ships have ships cats!" protested Tweek. "Everyone knows that."

"Not ones with parrots on."

Stan groaned. "If these are the kind of mind-numbingly idiotic arguments were going to have to endure, then I shan't be the one to deal with it. Kyle," he said, waving a hand, "you decide."

"Me!" said Kyle, in horror. "Why me?"

"I cannot find it within me to care, and you were standing the closest. So, go on. Fix this."

"Um," said Kyle, scrounging around in the back of his brain for a solution that would quell everyone's wrath without turning himself into a source of contempt. "We do have a rat problem," he said hesitantly. "Does Hat know how to take care of them?"

"He's the best rat-catcher around," Tweek proclaimed with pride. "A natural predator."

"And thus, a threat to all innocent birds!" said Craig. She groaned. "You can't seriously be taking her side, Kyle."

"Well, I—It's just that cats are more sanitary than rats," said Kyle, "So, um." He could feel the hole he was digging himself into growing deeper with every word. "Okay, how about we say Hat is only allowed in certain rooms on certain days. Or—Alternating above and below deck. That way, Stripe can be in the opposite one, or safely behind a closed door, and he'll always be safe."

Craig sucked her teeth. "I suppose that's reasonable," she conceded. "But Tweek has to be the one to feed him and clean out his sandbox."

"Fine by me," said Tweek.

"And whatever Hat does to Stripe, I get to do to him."

"Less fine," said Tweek. "But, alright. He won't get his claws on the parrot anyway."