Einstein is a character we (Kim and Lindsay) created a while ago, like before we discovered South Park. He was originally sassy and NYish. He is still, but more intellectual. Ok...a *lot* more. Anyways, we were just fooling around today and we thought, 'why not have a crossover?' so we did and here it is. Enjoy! Oh yes, all the big words like 'and' were added by Kim. (She wanted me to put that!)
The Disaster of Immense Proportions Told by Einstien the Great
Well, I've been to a lot of places in my life and I've seen a lot of strange things. I've been to a supposedly haunted theater in which I battled a vampire, I watched as the very moon herself came tumbling down one night and then, an hour later, return to her place in the sky. I've met one of the 200 people in the world who can hear and understand animals. But I have never in all my nine lives seen a stranger place than South Park, Colorado. The name's Einstien, Einstien the Great. I'm a cat, if the nine lives bit didn't give it away. I've got quite a bit of a tale to tell all you South Park fans out there, but why someone would want to see the chaos of that town weekly I can't understand. You see, somewhere along the line, I wound up in a pet shop in the small mountain town of South Park. The adventure I witnessed there changed my life, and I will assure you, not for the better.
It came to pass one day that four small boys ventured into the said pet shop. They seemed interesting to me, so I took it upon myself to observe. There was one boy who seemed to be the leader, for he lead the group. Another boy was particularly overweight, and I might add, not the most quiet person I've ever met. A third was donned in some sort of orange parka and talked in a muffled voice, which was rather hard to understand. The last boy radiated an aura of intelligence that was matched only by my own. I contentedly listened to the boys chatting amongst themselves, I having not much to do. I heard the 'leader' remark to the fat one, "I don't see why you had to get another pet, Cartman. You already have two!" I concluded that the fat boy was named, or at least called, Cartman. It sounded strange to me, but who am I to question the idiotic ramblings of humans when the feline species is far more superior in every detail. Getting back to my tale, I heard 'Cartman' reply, "Screw you, hippie! My mom said I could have another one!" The leader responded, "You mean your dad said you could have another." Cartman immediately retaliated by jumping up and down and squealing, "Just forget it! It never happened!" I did not even want to imagine the basis of this conversation, so I disregarded it. The smart one broke this up by saying to the leader, "C'mon, Stan. Let's just go look around." With that remark, the boys split up to look around. Cartman, moving in sort of a waddle, went to look at the, ugh, dog cages. He eyed a Chihuahua, which was yipping continuously in that annoying manner I so despise. I decided to give the kid some silent tips. "Hey kid," I shouted, although I knew no one could hear me, "come over and look at the cats." He whirled around once or twice. "Who said that?" he prodded to no one in particular. Could it be true? Could this obese idiot be one of the remaining 200 people left on this earth that could hear and understand us animals? Say it wasn't so! I decided to test him again. "Hey fat boy," I cried, "you could stand to loose a few pounds." Very poetic on my part, don't you think? Cartman responded with , "AY!! I'll kick you in the nuts!" Why he threatened to do such is beyond me. Or perhaps, most likely, it is below me. All I could think was 'why is it that God, oh mighty, gave this idiot the gift to understand us, the superior species.' I then realized I had answered my own question. I thought that maybe I could teach him a thing or two, or maybe three, about intellect. But, then again, why would I want to be stuck with an imbecile like that? Why in God's name would I even want to teach him anything? I then realized that the boy was starting towards me, obeying my command to 'check out the cats'. Oh God! How could I be so stupid? Then again, all geniuses make mistakes every now and then, but why now? Why on earth did I-ok, ok. I'll get on with it. Anyway, as the boy neared closer, I tried to make myself look inconspicuous by shrinking back into the corner of my cage and making myself look scruffy. It was a sight indeed, but it had to be done or else I'd surely be bought by Cartman and be doomed to a life of loud whining and low-society living. Ah! As he passed by me, he lingered awhile near the door of my cage, but soon continued down the long aisle of cats. I, in my folly, let out a sigh of relief. Abruptly he whirled around and pointed a chubby finger at me. "It was you!" he exclaimed. "You were the one talking to me before!" Stan, the smart boy, and the hooded boy came quickly to see what was transpiring. I searched desperately for a way out and found my only means were to act like a common feline. "Meow," I said in a small, pitiful voice. I tell you, I would never again sink so low as to say 'Meow', but this was a time of great crisis. "It's just a cat, Cartman," said the smart one. "No, Kyle, I really heard it talk to me! It called me fat and stupid!" "How dare you embellish the truth! I only called you fat," I remarked, just to annoy the little bastard. "See? He did it again!" Cartman cried. "You guys, I'm serious!" "Yeah sure, Cartman," Stan replied. "Cartman," Kyle began, "you've done some weird crap in your life. You've been abducted by aliens, you thought you were a monkey prince, you've put on red lingerie from a 'Valentina's Rumor' store, you've summoned evil skeletons in a certain castle, you were afraid of monster movies until you killed one, your mom, or should I say dad, is a hermaphrodite," So that was what that conversation was all about! "And now you think a cat is talking to you. I mean, you're the king of weird shit!" he finished. "Kyle," Cartman replied with fake pleasantness, "why do you bring up all of this stuff in front of him?" he gestured to me. Me, I was trying to keep from breaking out into a fit of laughter. "Cartman, it's just a cat!" Kyle said. "It can't understand us!" Oh I can't? "Let's just go," Stan announced. "No, no," Cartman said, "I'm gonna buy this cat, go home, and beat the shit out of him!" he started to swing his massive fist at me, but I dodged with ease. "Grace isn't your bag, is it fat boy?" I said with an evil smile. "Ok, that's it!" Cartman shouted as he took yet another swing at me. "Let's go, Cartman," Kyle said as he began dragging Cartman out of the shop with both hands. "No!" he shouted. "I tell you, this cat is talking to me and seriously pissing me off!" "Yeah whatever, Cartman," Stan said as they all exited the store. I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for Stan and Kyle. But suddenly I felt a feeling of incompleteness. Something was not finished. Instantly, I heard the screeching of car tires, a muffled scream, and the crunching of bone from outside. Then, the cry of Stan, "Oh my god! They killed Kenny!" Kyle then followed with, "You bastards!" I had no idea what had just taken place, but I felt complete once again.
That is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but. Now some of you may be asking yourselves, 'Where is the disaster of immense proportions that we waited so long for?' Well, I assure you it is there. Just look a little closer upon the visage of Eric Cartman. Just the shock of this is worse than any attack of mutant turkeys, zombies, or Christmas poo that you will ever witness in your lifetime.
~Kim and Lindsay (Be sure, if this appears on the site, to use BOTH of our names or else you shall witness the wrath of mankind's great disaster, Eric Cartman!)