What's Wrong With Me | TYDE/CREEK | South Park Fanfiction ✔️

Chapter Seven (2/2)

"Dad, I'm home!" Clyde announced as he opened his front door. He looked to his right, where the living room was, and saw his father sitting in a chair and his sister sitting on the couch with his baby nephew on her lap.

Betty smiled sweetly when she saw him. "Clyde, you're home!" She greeted. "Come sit." She patted the spot next to her on the couch. Clyde grinned widely back and set his bag on the floor before coming over and sitting next to her. Betty smiled wider and pulled Clyde into a one-armed hug, supporting the baby with her other arm. "I haven't seen you for so long, how have you been?"

It had been a little over two years since they had last seen each other, so naturally Clyde was quite excited. "I've been good, I guess," He responded. "You?"

"Oh, I've been okay. This little guy has been keeping me up, though." She signaled to the baby in her arms (I can't think of a name for the baby). "Oh, and guess what? I made lasagna, it's in the oven. Mom's recipe."

"Oh, nice," Clyde responded. He leaned over a little and looked at the baby.

Mr. Donovan chuckled. "How's it feel to be an uncle, Clyde?"

"A little weird," Clyde said. "How's it feel to be a grandpa?"

"Don't remind me."

Betty chuckled just as the oven dinged. "Oh, the lasagna's ready. Clyde, you wanna hold him?" Clyde nodded and she handed him the baby while getting up. Clyde stared at the baby in his arms.

"Hello," He said politely. The baby looked up at him with big, blue eyes and began to cry. "Shit, I made it sad," Clyde muttered. "Betty, I made him cry! What do I do?" he shouted into the kitchen.

"Try bouncing him lightly, that normally calms him down," Betty said back.

Mr. Donovan laughed as Clyde tried to figure out what she meant. "Come on, please be quiet," Clyde whispered. He looked at his dad helplessly. "Dad, help, you have experience." He got up and handed the baby to his father, who knew exactly what Betty meant and was able to soothe the sobbing infant almost instantly. Clyde stared at him as if he was a celebrity. "How the hell did you do that?!"

"I have more than one brain cell," Mr. Donovan said simply.

Clyde gave him a look as Betty called from the kitchen, "Food's ready!"

"Oh, great," Clyde muttered sarcastically. His dad got up, baby still in his arms, and walked into the dining room.

"Come on, Clyde," He said.

Clyde sighed and hesitated to get up. Knowing he'd get in trouble if he tried to make an excuse, he stood up and went to the dining room. He sat across from his where his sister would sit and a seat away from his dad, where a plate of lasagna had already been placed. He stared at the food in front of him. It looked and smelled delicious, which was a problem. He watched as his sister sat down across from him with a smile on her pretty face. It's not fair, he thought. Why does she get the pretty genes when I look like a wet sock?

Betty placed a fork in front of each one of them along with a glass of water, then began to say grace. Once she was finished, she and Mr. Donovan dug into their lasagna. Clyde picked up his fork slowly. Although he didn't want to eat, he knew everyone would be suspicious if he didn't. Plus Betty seemed proud of herself, and Clyde didn't want to take that away from her. So he brought a forkful up to his mouth, and immediately spit it out. "Holy shit, that's hot!" He shouted and brought a hand to his mouth.

"Clyde, language!" His dad scolded.

Betty laughed. "Did you blow on it first?"

"No!" Clyde said loudly. "Ugh," He groaned and picked his fork back up. He stabbed up a bit more food and blew on his this time, before putting it into his mouth. He widened his eyes. Oh my God, this stuff's incredible, He thought. He immediately picked up some more and ate it without thinking.

"Glad you like it," Betty giggled.

Clyde finished all his food very quickly, which made him feel guilty. He looked down at his empty plate and sighed. "I'm gonna go upstairs," He mumbled. His dad simply nodded in return. He walked up the stairs semi-quickly and entered the bathroom.

He shut the door behind him and made sure it was locked. "I can't believe I ate that entire thing," He said to himself quietly. "Like, I know I'm a fatass, but really?" He opened the cabinet underneath the sink and pulled out the scale. I've barely eaten a thing, come on... He thought as he stepped onto the scale.

"153? Come on!" He said aloud. "I've lost barely four pounds, what the hell, author?!" Sorry, Clyde. It's only been like a week, I gotta be realistic here. "Fuck you, Rosy." He slid the scale back under the sink and sighed. He opened the bathroom door back up and walked to his room. He shut his bedroom door quietly and curled up on his bed, wrapped in blankets, then proceeded to cry until he fell asleep.

Author's note

I hated both parts of this chapter lmao ✌️😗