South Park Shorts

Failed Attempts~ Tyde

Idea by: Blazedarkness
(I told you I'd do it.)

If there was one thing that Clyde Donovan sucked at, it was laundry.
How the HELL do you carry it from room to room without dropping it?
How do you fold it?
How the hell do you operate a washing machine?

So, of course, when his dad left to go to his Sister's house for the weekend, he was clueless as to how he was going to do his chores, one of which being laundry. Even if he did know how to do it, it would take him hours and they'd be awfully boring.
So, he did what any rational human being would do, and called his best friend.

*Ring, Ring.*
*Ring, Ring*
"Hello?"
"Token! BUDDY! Dude-a-loo-"
"What do you want, Clyde?"
"I need some help."
"Okay."
"Well? Aren't you going to help me?"
"Why me?"
"Ugh- Because Craig's too busy binging Red Racer with his ugly- ass rat thing-"
"-Guinea pig."
"Whatever. Tweek wouldn't be able to help at all, Jimmy can't carry things, Kevin's at A Star Wars convention-"
"Again? Didn't he go to one last weekend?"
"I don't know. Anyways, the only other person I can stand is Stan, and according to Kyle he's drunk off his ass right now, So you're my best bet. You're cooler than any of the other people, and you'll actually be helpful in some way."
"What do we have to do? I'll be there in twenty minutes."
"Laundry, Token. We have to wash my dad's underwear."

Clyde hung up right there before realizing he had no idea where any detergent was.
Whoops.

*Ring, ring.*
*Ring, ring.*
"What, Clyde?"
"Can you Bring over some laundry detergent?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Kay, thanks."

Clyde hung up again and sat for twenty boring minutes before anything happened at all.

A knock at the door caused Clyde's head to raise in alarm as he fell off of the side of the couch before scrambling up, running to the door (stumbling horribly) and then breathlessly greeting Token, "Hey."

"Uh, hi," Token said back, adjusting his shoulder because of the detergent weighing his arm down. "So should we get started?"

"YES, PLEASE!" Clyde yelled. "I'VE BEEN SO BORED FOR TOO LONG!"

"Yeah, okay." Token pushed past Clyde and into the living room before practically throwing the detergent onto the coffee table. "That thing is fucking heavy."

"I bet," Clyde laughed nervously. "So why did you just have an unopened bottle of Tyde laying around?"

"I don't know," Token shrugged. "I guess we forgot we bought a new one."

Clyde made a" hmph," noise before leading Token to the laundry room. He set the Tyde on the washing machine before turning to Token and asking, "How do we work this fucking spaceship?"

Token sighed and pushed Clyde out of the way and pressed some buttons and flipped some sort of notch thingy-thing-thing, and pressed start.
He turned around.
"Done."
"What about the detergent?"
"SHIT."
Token spun around and stopped the washer. He yanked the detergent slot open before pouring a shit-ton of Tyde in there and pressing start again.

"Tyde's fucking awesome," Clyde dazed. "It has to be fucking magical if it can get my washer to start for me."

Token paused uncomfortably for a minute.

"Um, Clyde-"

"ITS OUR FUCKING SHIP NAME HOLY DICKERBOMBS!"

"I swear to God, Clyde-"

"I ship us."

"Clyde, I think you're high-"

"We're sooooooo perfect...."