The right thing (South Park Fanfic.)

Used to (part one.)

"What the fuck are you doing?"

I roll my eyes, sitting down.

"Would you answer me or something?" She asks.

I shake my head, staring at her.

"What the fuck is your problem?" She asks.

"Wouldn't talk to me like that," I say.

She rolls her eyes, keeping her eyes away from me.

"I seriously don't like the way you're eyeing me right now," she says.

I stay silent, keeping my eyes still on her, with no move to any direction.

"Um... don't you have to do something? Don't stare at me," she says.

I roll my eyes before getting my eyes back on her.

"If you won't talk, I won't either. But why the fuck are you bothering me?" She asks.

"You want to get out. Don't you?" I ask.

"If it's you offering, no, I won't do anything to get out," she says.

"You wound me," I say.

"I don't give a fuck. You can be as wounded as you want to be, I don't care," she says.

"Is that so?" I ask.

She nods, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"I would like to present you with a possibility," I say.

"The answer is no," she says.

"Shoot me," I say.

I push my gun to her.

"Either you shoot me and get it over with but get known as a murdered after you get out or you give that gun back to me and safe yourself from getting on death row," I say.

"What benefit is there to shooting you?" She asks.

I show her the keys.

"I know you don't like trusting people. I have the keys to all of the cages and the main gate. Your choice, Bebe. Do you want to ruin your life by shooting me but get out early or not shoot me and wait a moment longer? Choice is yours," I say.

"Is that supposed to be a hard choice?" Bebe asks.

"Okay. Lets add to it a little then. If you shoot me, one of your friends will get shot as well. If you don't shoot me, I might be able to help you with the fact your wings are getting cut off in two hours. Your choice," I say.

"What are you trying to accomplish with this?" Bebe asks.

"I'm trying to see, what kind of morals you have. The gun is loaded, you can try," I say.

"What happens if I shoot myself? Did you think of that possibility?" She asks.

"I did. Everyone else here gets killed if you do that," I say.

"If i shot you, I wasn't here in two hours. And I don't think anyone would have the time to kill one of us," she says.

"Unless I'm one step ahead of you. You're close with a couple of them, yes? You and Stan seem very close," I say.

"You wouldn't," she says.

"Oh I would," I lie.

She looks in thought.

"I won't," she says.

She kicks the gun back to me.

"Nice doing business with you," I say.

"Wait! What does that say about me as a person?" Bebe asks.

"That you clearly expect the worst of me," I say.

"Expect the worst? You have done nothing but been a threat this whole time," Bebe says.

"But Kyle was threatening you the whole time. Wasn't he?" I ask.

"That's different," Bebe says.

"How come?" I ask.

"Because...-," she starts.

"Exactly. Tell me one difference between me and him in the way we treat you. We aren't that different," I say.

"Kyle came to his senses at least, you didn't," Bebe says.

"But I'm here to protect something far bigger than the others. I don't have the possibility of being kind to you or my limbs will be ripped off my body. How do you know what I would be like if I was only risking the life of a family," I say.

"What do you mean?" Bebe asks.

"Some of us have things to hide, things that don't belong to you," I say.

"They belong to me if they are a threat to my family's life. Which it is if it's making you risk five people with only the slightest difference to you," Bebe says.

She's getting angry.

"Look at you. You don't even know if I'm protecting something you would love," I say.

"Unless you're protecting something that could help all of us with our now dead families, I would not love it," Bebe says.

"Depends on what you think is family. Your family is here from what I see. You didn't even like your parents. Did you?" I ask.

"N-. What does me not liking someone have to do with not wanting them dead? I don't want anyone I dislike dead," Bebe says.

"Are you sure about that?" I ask.

"I'm sure, yes. I'm not revengeful. Never been," she says.

"Okay. Get out," I say.

"What? This is my cage," Bebe says.

"Yes, and I want you to leave it," I say.

I open the cage door and she, very very carefully, leaves the cage. I close the door behind me and open the door to the 'outside'... if you can call it that with the roof.

"Go," I say.

She walks out and I close the door behind her again, locking it.

"Why did you want me here anyway?" Bebe asks.

"Why did you question this so late? Are you this use to orders, that you just follow without a second thought?" I ask.

"I don't see any danger in going outside," she says.

"Really now?" I ask.

"Where is the danger in this?" She asks.

"Your friends wouldn't hear me kill you," I say.

"You are not going to kill me," she says.

"Oh sue me," I say.

I look at her again.

"If I tell you something, you might understand why I'm doing this," I say.

"And that something is?" Bebe asks.

"Look. I can't just go around saying random facts. I have to be sure you won't spread it around, that's why we're here," I say.

"If I shot you, we wouldn't be here," Bebe says.

"I'm aware. But that was test one," I say.

"Test one?" Bebe asks.

I nod.