Puppies make relationships 3/3~ Style (South Park.)

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And thus, this trilogy has been concluded.
Warnings: Cursing.
Ages: 29 years old Kyle and 28 years old Stan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kyle's POV.

"Hey! Wilma! I want you to meet someone!" Stan yells.

Wilma runs up to us, Croissant running behind her.

"Oh. Hi. I'm Wilma," she says.

She hugs me. Holy damn, this girl has a lot of energy in her.

"Hey. I'm Kyle," I say.

She looks at me, smiling.

"So you're the guy dad keeps talking about! I should have recognized you from the picture I saw," she says.

Croissant stares up at me, I pet his head before getting back into the conversation.

"Oh. He's shown pictures?" I ask, looking at Stan with a teasing look.

"Yeah! And he talks about you all the time. I think he loves you. He might want to marry you or something," she says.

Stan's blushing, trying to hide his face. I laugh at him, of course not in an evil way.

"If you do ask, I will," I say.

"What?" Stan asks.

"If you ever ask, I'll marry you. Sure, I am scared of breaking the glass but I would," I say.

"Aw. I'll totally tell granny you are marrying a Jewish guy! She'll be so happy! She likes Jewish people a lot!" Wilma says.

Wait. What the fuck does that mean? Is she racist or does she actually like Jewish people?

"Haven't you got homework or something?" Stan asks, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah. But who gives a fuck about it? I can do it all by myself in minutes and the one I can't do is fucking math anyway. I don't need the goddamn triangles for anything, I have a puppy, that is all I need in life," she says.

"Where have you learned to cuss?" I ask.

"School," she says.

"From?" I ask.

"Ollie. He curses so much that a teacher had to throw him out of the classroom but he is still fucking awesome," Wilma says.

"Do you need to wash your mouth with soap?" Stan asks.

"You can't, if you don't catch me!" She says.

Stan chuckles.

"I would. But I have to make food," Stan says.

"I'll make something. Go have fun with your kid," I say.

"No no, I can make it," Stan says.

I push him away from the fridge.

"Dude, let me. This is your house," I say.

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