Fizz were sparkling in my Dr. Pepper as I watch it intently at the table while waiting for Kyle and Kenny to order their order. We were at Sizzler on a hot Saturday afternoon. I wonder if Stan is out of the hot sun and is in an air-conditioned house. Stan has severe asthma and will pass out if he was under the sizzling sun.
"Aw, Eric is thinking about Stanley, Kyle. Isn't it romantic?" Kenny disrupted my thoughts, sneering at my disinterested frown.
Kyle played along by propping his chin on his hands, smiling dearly. "It is romantic, Kenny. Who knew Eric Cartman has the hots on Stan Marsh." They both laughed at me.
I would respond and beat the crap out of both of them for teasing me, but I didn't. Instead, I drank my soda through a bendy straw, looking down at the menu on the table.
"Kenny, I think this is serious. Cartman is depressed without Stan around. Just look at him; he didn't snap at us for ripping him off." The sneaky Jew said in a serious tone, studying my expression for any expression. I just want to go home and Skype to Stan.
"You're right, Kyle. Eric is Stan-sick."
"Stan-sick?"
"It's kind of like homesick," Kenny told him when a waitress return with their meals.
Kenny is right; I was Stan-sick.
