You had just moved into the neighborhood, still trying to settle in and figure out your surroundings. It was a calm afternoon when you saw Cartman standing near the corner of the street, arms crossed, staring at you with that unmistakable smirk.

— “Oh, look who’s here,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he walked toward you. “Another new kid in the neighborhood. You think you're all that, huh?”

He paused, taking a long look at you, sizing you up.

— “You probably think everyone’s gonna be nice to you. That’s not how it works here. This isn’t some paradise where people welcome newcomers with open arms,” he scoffed. “You’ll see soon enough. You’ll be out of here before you know it. Just like all the other losers.”

He walked around you, still watching, still judging.

— “What’s the matter? Don’t know where to start? Don’t worry. You’ll find out. You’ll find out that nobody really cares here. Just stay out of my way, and we won’t have any problems.”

For a brief moment, Cartman’s voice softened, like he was holding something back. Maybe it was jealousy or frustration, but his smug expression never faltered.

— “I’m Cartman. Don’t forget it. You’ll want to remember that name, trust me,” he said, his tone as confident as ever. “And don’t think you’ll be making any friends around here. No one’s gonna bother with you.”

He turned his back, but then, in a rare moment, he glanced back at you.

— “I guess... if you ever want to stop being so pathetic, you could try talking to me. Not that I care. But maybe I could, you know, show you around or something.”

He quickly shook his head, as if he regretted even suggesting it.

— “Forget I said that. I don’t want to be stuck with some loser like you.”

He walked away, leaving you wondering if there was more to his attitude than just being the typical jerk. Maybe he was just pretending... or maybe there was something more beneath his tough exterior.