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| Father of the Year; Kirk is going to get even with Lars. Het. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: July 3, 2007, 9:40 pm (14,631 Views) | |
| MissMetallica;; | August 11, 2007, 3:32 am Post #181 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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completely irrelivant BUT... today i was out trying on some dresses for my year 10 formal. and one dress that i really liked was made of silk taffeta! when the lady told me that i just laughed and thought of kirk.
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| Verity | August 11, 2007, 10:03 am Post #182 |
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The Story Girl
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Not irrelivant, that's awesome. Don't you wish that Kirk could have went shopping with you?? He'd make sure that you have a very beautiful dress for your formal indeed.
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| MissMetallica;; | August 11, 2007, 10:32 am Post #183 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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oh yes. how awesome that would have been to have little kirky with me and my formal dress shopping. he would SURELY be a huge help. and he'd probably go crazy over the fabrics in the process.
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| Verity | August 11, 2007, 7:48 pm Post #184 |
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The Story Girl
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I'm thrilled y'all are still with me on this long, long, novel of a fanfic. Y''all rock! This chapter is a little flat, maybe boring. I hope not too much though. i had a major part break on my favorite instrument today, and that's sucky. It's rare. I don't know why this shit happens to me. I can fix it, I just have to wait till Monday to order the new part and have it shipped. Until then, it's dead. I wonder if Kirk, James, and Cliff ever have shit break on their guitars. Chapter 51- The Cliff That Came Back from Denmark Meanwhile back in Denmark, Lars and Claudia were going at it like two jack rabbits on a hot Texas sawmill. Lars had forgotten all about just how accomplished Claudia was in the sack. He had always told himself that she had been overrated, but tonight that sure wasn’t the case. The phone rang. “Fock,” Lars grunted. He stopped pulsating, and dropped his sweaty naked bod on top of Claudia. “You want me to answer it?” “Let it ring!” Claudia breathed. “Just let it fucking ring!” “What if it’s about Cecily?” Lars asked. “You do know how to kill a mood Mr. Ulrich,” Claudia muttered through clenched teeth. “Cecily is probably with Cliff. It’s five in the morning. She’s sleeping.” “Alright,” Lars returned, and went back to his passionate love making. “Oh baby yeah,” he groaned. Their bout of hot Danish passion was interrupted by Flemming Rasmussen who barged right into the room, throwing on the light as he did so. Yann trooped in behind him wearing a pair of plaid sweat pants, and sucking on his thumb. “EEEEEEEGGGGGGG!!!” Lars shrieked as he dove under the covers. “Jesus focking Christ and all eternity!” he swore. “What the fock is the matter with you Flemming?” “More like that the fuck is the matter with this fucking band!” Flemming shrieked. He threw a sheet of paper down on the bed. “Would you like to explain why James had three airline tickets, a bunch of drinks, food, and a rental car, charged to the record label earlier today?” “It’s got to be a different James,” replied Lars. “It’s probably one of your other dumb focking bands.” “It’s Metallica’s account number!” Flemming screeched. “There’s over six thousand dollars charged on here! And James Hetfield, signed off on it all!” With his aroused dick, and a wine clogged brain, Lars took a look at the bill that Flemming had thrown at him. Sure enough, it had Metallica’s account number printed at the top, and James’s scrawly signature at the bottom. There were three plane tickets to San Francisco for that very day, and a car rental that was purchased in Denver. There were also numerous drinks: bloody Mary’s, a tanqueray and tonic, glasses of chardonnay, Manhattans, and whiskey sours, along with an order of mini hamburgers. Lars was absolutely speechless. He sat there staring at the bill dumbfounded. “I guess this explains why James and Kirk didn’t show up for their recording sessions,” Flemming snapped. “They’ve been off jet setting around the world, and getting rather drunk, while at it! This whole Master of Puppets album hoopla has been nothing but an entire waste of my time and money! I’m going to cancel Metallica’s credit cards immediately. I’m highly disappointed.” “It can’t be,” murmured Lars. “I mean, I know for a fact that Cliff’s aunt bought him a ticket home. Even if Kirk and James did buy these tickets, who did they buy the third ticket for?” “Apparently when we checked, it was for an Emily Winston,” Flemming retorted. “Probably some floozy who is good at sucking dick.” He eyed Claudia for a moment, and then went on. “None of the tickets issued were for Cliff. I think you have mutiny Lars. James probably wasn’t happy with your decision to can Burton, so he and Kirk left you, and went back to the United States. Maybe they’re planning on starting their own band with Cliff, who knows? You do know that I’m going to take this chunk of money out of Metallica’s cut of record sales, if you ever finish the record.” “Wait a minute!” Claudia cut in. “Are you positive that Cliff has already gone back to the United States?” “He damn well should have!” snapped Lars, jealous that James valued Cliff over him. “He no longer has any business being in Copenhagen.” “He left on the noon flight,” said Flemming. “And that was confirmed.” “If Cliff is already gone, and so is James, Kirk, and Emily, where on earth is my daughter?” For the first time ever, Claudia’s voice had a sense of urgency. “You don’t know where your own daughter is?” Flemming asked. “It’s five in the fucking morning! What kind of a for shit mother are you?” “Fock you Flemming! You have no idea what she’s been through,” Lars snarled. Claudia was now sobbing. Lars took the crying woman into his arms. “There, there, Claudia,” he coaxed. “She probably just fell asleep in the lobby, or up in that ballroom. Didn’t Cliff have her up there once searching for ghosts and shit?” “Oh Gawd,” Claudia muttered. “That phone call! That phone call that just came through! What if that was my Cecily calling me? What if she’s scared, or cold, or is lying somewhere half dead?” “Hey, I told you to answer it,” Lars replied with a shrug. “At least the sex was good.” *** Contrary to Claudia’s belief, Cecily wasn’t scared, cold, or half dead. She was just the opposite, but she was feeling a bit melancholy as she laid awake in the cozy, comfy, bed. She felt as if she were in a very, very, wonderful dream, a dream that she knew would end tomorrow evening. Cecily tried not to cry at the very thought of going back. It occurred to her, that this was the first time ever that she had slept in a bedroom that was entirely her own. Sure, her mother had gone out carousing around with men, leaving Cecily alone in the hotel room for the night’s entirety, but sharing a hotel room with your mother just wasn’t the same as having your very own bedroom. Aunt Josephine’s guest room was just the perfect room for Cecily. It was painted a perky sage green, and had a huge window with a view of the mountains. The best feature about it was the window seat. Cecily could smell the sweet smell of pot, and hear the murmured voices of Cliff and Aunt Josephine coming from downstairs. She knew that they were talking about her. She just couldn’t help herself. She just had to find out what they were saying. Ever so quietly, Cecily slipped out of the bed, and tiptoed over to the door. She crept over to the stairs, and went down them halfway. She peered through the stair railing. From there, she could hear the conversation going on out in the parlor without being seen. “Seriously,” Cliff said as he lit a joint. “I’m not good enough for Cecily. She latched on to me because she had nobody else, but really she could find someone much better, with much more money.” “I don’t know Cliff,” sighed Aunt Josephine. “You’re young, fun, and you have a rich aunt. I think that Cecily would make out just fine.” “Maybe we could try and find her real dad,” suggested Cliff. “I heard a rumor that he might be a rich businessman from Germany.” “Horse pucky!” exclaimed Aunt Josephine. “That slut mother of hers doesn’t know who that child’s father is from a hole in the ground! Since she doesn’t seem that into bringing up her daughter properly, I say that you file a petition with the court to become Cecily’s legal guardian.” “Oh Aunt Josephine,” Cliff sighed as he took a hit. “No court would ever allow me to be Cecily’s guardian.” “How do you know?” Aunt Josephine returned. “Stop getting baked out of your mind for a couple of days, and maybe they would. It’s got to be better than living with a mother who’s a human mattress.” “It will definitely put an end to my days of getting laid,” Cliff muttered. He watched as Aunt Josephine filled his absinthe glass. “It’s not like you’re exactly getting lots of action anyway Clifford,” snapped Aunt Josephine. “I’m sure that when you’re out on the road, and Cecily is staying with me, you can get in plenty of chances to get laid.” “Oh yeah, I might get one nighters, but I certainly will never have another girlfriend or anything long term,” said Cliff. “No chick is going to want to be a mother to some other woman’s child, a random little girl who just happens to live with me. “All I can say is that Cecily did not have to take a liking to you,” Aunt Josephine returned. “She likes you, actually loves you, just because you’re Cliff. She has fun with you, and she looks up to you. I think that having a child look up to you is much more rewarding than dating a nice piece of ass for a while. Look Cliff, I’ve dated hundreds, thousands of men in my day.” “Mum says that you even slept with Frank Sinatra,” said Cliff. Aunt Josephine nodded as she took a hit. “I did. Man, he was dreamy. But even after Frank Sinatra, and all of those other men, do you know what my greatest accomplishment is?” “What?” Cliff asked. “You.” replied Aunt Josephine. “When you guys had that little party after you returned home from your last tour, you boys all got up and said various thank yous. You stood up and you thanked me. You said that if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have joined Metallica. I had talked you into it, so any success that you had in Metallica you attributed to me. The fact that I touched your life that way, really meant a lot, and it’s my greatest accomplishment.” “Really?” Cliff asked. “Me? But I’m not even in Metallica anymore.” “It will only be a matter of time,” replied Aunt Josephine. “Lars will call you back. Just think Cliff, how would you feel if Cecily ever got up one day and said something like that about you?” “She kind of did with her Father of the Year essay,” said Cliff. “You have got to have her read it to you sometime. I was so touched, that I even cried. The essay won right after I had told her about our prank, so the victory was tarnished a bit.” “And just think if Cecily grew up and went off to college and became a famous doctor, or even a famous bassist, all because of you,” returned Aunt Josephine. “I’d say that beats having a girlfriend any day.” “You’re right Aunt Josephine,” Cliff nodded. “I usually get tired of my girlfriends anyway. But still, things would never work. I love Cecily. I love her if she were my very own daughter, sometimes I even forget that she’s not, because we’re so alike. But really, I’m not the best thing for Cecily, and Cecily isn’t the best thing for me. She needs to be adopted by a nice family with two parents, a dog, a house, and enough money to pay for nice things and a decent education. So unless Claudia wants to sign her away so that can happen for her, I have no other choice than to send the kid back to Denmark. “Clifford Lee!” gasped Aunt Josephine. “I can’t believe that after how you can clearly see that the child adores you, that you would still send her back.” “Face it Aunt Josephine!” Cliff shot. “I have no money! I live with either you or my parents, whoever will put me up for the night! I suck! I’m either drunk or stoned all of the time.” “You were drunk and stoned tonight, and you still did a very good job of putting Cecily to bed,” Aunt Josephine pointed out. “Cliff, your family is here to help you. We’d all help you take care of Cecily.” “You don’t understand!” Cliff yelled. “There’s just no point in me taking Cecily. Adopting a kid isn’t going to better me in any way. Cecily needs me because she’s a child, a rather neglected child. I don’t need Cecily. All I get out of keeping her is more bills to pay and a poorly drawn Misfits crayon picture. Plus, it's not like she's my real daughter or anything.” “Are you sure about that?” Aunt Josephine asked. “I’ve banged a lot of chicks, but I haven’t banged her mom,” shot Cliff. “That’s not what I meant,” Aunt Josephine retorted. She poured herself some absinthe. “I think that Cecily has bettered you. The little girl has done wonders for you.” “Oh yeah?” Cliff shot sarcastically. “I’m a drunk, broke, and unemployed, stoner. She’s not exactly setting my world on fire.” “Clifford,” Aunt Josephine began softly. “Three months ago when you stepped on that plane to go off to Denmark, you were a different person. You were goofy, naïve, pot smoking, frat-like boy. The Cliff that that came back from Denmark is a different Cliff. You’re still goofy, you sure as hell still smoke pot, and you’re still frat-like, but you’re not a boy anymore. You’ve grown up.” “I haven’t fucking grown up!” Cliff retorted as he worked on rolling up another joint. “That’s bullshit!” “Being grownup doesn’t mean that you can’t get drunk or smoke weed anymore,” said Aunt Josephine. “Take a look at me. I’m sixty-three. I enjoy my liquor, my weed, and the company of gentleman. But I also can act like an adult when I need to, and now so do you. I noticed it while we were at the dinner table earlier. You made sure that Cecily put her napkin on her lap, and chewed with her mouth closed.” “I didn’t want to fucking see her half chewed food,” Cliff responded as he swished his absinthe around in its glass. “James always chews with his mouth open. It’s disgusting.” “Yeah well, tonight for the first time ever, you not only told Cecily to use her napkin and chew with her mouth closed, but you actually did it yourself,” said Aunt Josephine. “Seriously! You don’t know how long your mother has been trying to get you to use your napkin, and chew with your mouth closed! She’d be thrilled to know that finally, after twenty-three years you’ve learned how, and it’s all because of Cecily.” Cliff made a face. “This isn’t about my eating habits,” he snarled. “Well they are very much improved I must say,” teased Aunt Josephine. “A few minutes ago you mentioned that you would want Cecily to get a decent education. You’re thinking like an adult Cliff.” “Fuck you!” Cliff screeched, and he hurled his glass of absinthe at the wall. It broke and shattered. “Now you’re acting like a twelve-year-old!” ranted Aunt Josephine. “That’s the old Cliff.” “I’m going to bed!” Cliff snarled. “I’ve had enough of this whole fucking fiasco! Metallica was disaster in my life, and tomorrow evening, Cecily goes back to Denmark where she belongs!” “Judging by the fact that you’re acting like a child, I guess that you should go to bed,” quipped Aunt Josephine. “Cecily acts more mature than you do.” “Fuck you!” Cliff again snarled, and turned to leave the room. Cecily went up the stairs in a flash. She didn’t want Cliff to catch her eavesdropping. He was already trying to get rid of her. Getting caught out of bed wouldn’t help. She was a little offended that he had called her Misfits crayon drawings "poorly drawn." She had worked hard on those. Cecily made it safely to her room, where she jumped into the bed, and pulled the covers up over her head. Mr. Cliff doesn’t want to keep me because he thinks that he doesn’t need me. I just have to change his mind. I’m going to have to work quickly because I only have until tomorrow evening. Somehow, someway, I have to convince Cliff that a little girl is just what he needs. |
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| Raedoll | August 11, 2007, 8:13 pm Post #185 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Cecily hury and change his mind!!!! Pleaaaase!!! Aunt Josephine makes such a good point and Cliff HAS grown up! It's cute to imagine him using his napkin and sending Cecily to bed, telling her how to be proper. And it's funny how he's trying to folow his own advice. She HAS bettered him, he just doesn't wanna admit it! Lars and Claudia...BLEH! BLEH BLEH BLEH. Flemming is right, and James Claudia and Kirk...well, take your time!\ Eagerly waiting for more <3 |
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| MissMetallica;; | August 11, 2007, 8:49 pm Post #186 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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aww cliff, acting all fatherly towards cecily.. but then turning into the childly cliff again. i think he just doesnt want to face the fact that he does really need cecily. YOU NEED HER CLIFF!!i wonder what our little cecily will scheme up so cliff wont send her back. oh the SUSPENSE! aunt josephine is one hell of an aunt. shes so... AWESOME. and the way she was talking to cliff and telling him that cecily would be gladly looked after there with her was so sweet. id love and aunt like her! i wonder how james kirk and emily are doing on the looooong drive to san franscisco. i hope james hasnt driven them off the road with his crazy driving or something ![]() that sucks that one of the parts of your instrument, and hopefully you can order the part and have it come quickly. theres nothing worse than having a broken instrument
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| Verity | August 11, 2007, 10:41 pm Post #187 |
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The Story Girl
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Rae- I was trying to hard to think of ways for Cecily to help better Cliff. She's trying her very best. Kristen- You're going to get the answer to Kirk, James, and Emily right now. And I wish I had an Aunt Josephine too. I'm enjoying writing her. i think this chapter is better. I wrote all in one sitting, so it won't wander hopefully. Chapter 52-Business of Bed and Breakfast “Oh Liverboat, liverboat, schlepping liver, down in New Orleans!” Kirk sang at the top of his lungs. “Oh Liverboat, liverboat schlepping liver, down in New Orleans! Oh Liverboat, liver-” “Shut the fuck up!” James croaked. “Son of Jakipshian nightwhore! It’s a damn good thing you don’t do the singing for Metallica.” Kirk looked hurt. “I’m sorry James,” he mumbled. “It’s just that this car ride is going by so slowly because of the snow. I’m bored back here.” James, Emily, and Kirk were slowly on their way to San Francisco. They had actually been on the road for five hours already, but due to the heavy amounts of snow, and James and Kirk having to stop to pee every thirty minutes, they had hardly gone anywhere. They were somewhere in bumfuck Wyoming, in whiteout conditions. Kirk had been banished to the backseat of the car. “Can’t you sing a different song Kirk?” Emily asked. “You’ve been singing the Liverboat Song for the past three hours.” “And only the same two lines of the Liverboat Song,” quipped James. “I’m trying to fucking drive here, and I have a headache.” Kirk sighed as he gazed out the back window. He couldn’t see a damn thing. Just a white, frosty, landscape. He tried to think of another song to sing. “I’m Henry the VIII I am! I am! I got married to the window next door. She’s been married seven times before!” Kirk sang. “Okay! That’s it!” James roared. He pulled the car off to the side of the road. “James!” exclaimed Emily. “You can’t possibly have to pee again! What are you doing?” “I’m going to take Hamster’s dick, chop it off, and tie it into a big, pretty, bow. Then I’m going to stuff it down his throat!” James yelled as he got out of the car. “Jiminy!” Kirk gasped. “That sounds rather painful.” “Not as painful as having to listen to your mindless twaddle for the past five hours!” James snarled. He opened the car backdoor, and pounced on top of Kirk. “No James! Don’t!” Kirk wailed. “Please no!” Kirk curled up into a little ball in the backseat of the car. “Children!” Emily bellowed. “Come on! I think we need to call it a night. There’s a small motel just up the road. It’s much too snowy to carry on driving tonight. We’re killing ourselves. We’ve been up for nearly twenty-four hours straight. We’re tired, hungry, and pissy.” “Not to mention deaf,” James growled. He spat in the snow. He hated to stop traveling. He really wanted to get to Cliff as soon as possible. What if Burton signed a contract with another band? What if he was so depressed that he committed suicide? But he knew that Emily was right. It was dangerously insane to continue on in these weather conditions. “Oh a nice, warm, cozy, motel room sounds absolutely lovely,” Kirk sighed. “It will sure be cozy,” James mused, giving Emily a devilish wink. “I’m sure we can get a room with two beds and sleeper-sofa,” Emily retorted. “If not, we’ll put Hamster on the floor,” said James. “Maybe the motel will have those pay per view movies, and since Flemming is paying for it, we can order as many movies as we’d like.” “Can I have a diet coke from the vending machine?” Kirk asked. “Yeah, Flemming will pay for that too,’ nodded James. The Interstate 80 Motel was a quaint, seedy, little fuck motel right off of the highway. It had just one level, and you entered all of the rooms from the outside. The light up neon sign was half burned out. “The Intsta 8 Mote,” Kirk read as James pulled the car in the motel’s parking lot. The Interstate 80 Motel was not the Hotel Iroquois. It didn’t have a shiny lobby. Instead, it had a small, dismal looking, office. Kirk, James, and Emily trooped into the office. Country music played on the radio. “We’re in need of a room,” barked James. The man behind the desk looked up from his newspaper. He raised his eyebrows at them. “You all want one bed?” he asked. “Absolutely not!” piped up Emily. “This is not what you think. It’s strictly business.” “Don’t tell him that Emily,” chuckled James. “Look dude, we really just need a place to crash for the night. Give us whatever you got.” He pulled out his Metallica credit card. “It ain’t much,” the man mumbled as he took the card. “But it’s a bed.” “A bed is a place to sleep and place to fuck,” James said, feeling rather jovial at the prospect of finally getting to actually go to sleep. “It says that your card is declined,” said the motel clerk. “That’s bullshit,” replied James. “Swipe the fucker again. Sometimes you have to do it real hard.” “We’ve been spending an awful lot of money,” said Kirk. “Maybe we maxed out the limit. My Mom did that to my Dad’s card once. He beat her black and blue.” “It’s a record label card!” James retorted. “They have millions on that card. It’s impossible to max it out.” “It won’t take that card,” said the motel clerk, shaking his head. “You want me to call the credit card company?” James nodded. What was going on? They needed that card. They needed it for the room, for food, for gas. Without it they wouldn’t even be able to put gas in the car! The motel clerk hung up the phone, and turned back around. “They said that the card’s account holder cancelled the card. You got another one? Or cash?” “This is bullshit!” shouted James. He chucked the card across the room. “Flemming must be onto us,” said Emily. “I guess this means that he’s not down with you charging all of those plane tickets to the record label.” “I’ll deal with that nincompoop later,” James growled. “I can’t believe that the fucker did that. Why can’t we work with a cool producer like Bob Rock?” “I have some money,” volunteered Kirk. “Do you take Danish money?” “No,” said the motel clerk. Kirk frowned. “What about Danish travel’s checks?” he tried. The motel clerk shook his head. “In case you haven’t noticed, you aren’t in Denmark,” he scoffed. “I’m sorry. No money, no vacancy.” “Oh dear gracious God!” Kirk wailed. “Whatever are we to do? I feel just like Mary and Joseph from the Nativity story!” “You got a barn we can sleep in?” James asked. The motel clerk frowned. Emily sighed, and pulled out her own personal credit card. She hated to do this. She had already put that overpriced sweat suit on it, plus she wasn’t too down with having a seedy, fuck motel on her credit card statement, but it was either that, or sleep in the shitty, cold, rental car. The motel clerk smiled at Emily as he took her card. “I like that,” he murmured as he handed Emily her receipt to sign. “I like a woman who can pay for her own fuck.” *** Cecily had had one of the best nights of sleep in her little life. Aunt Josephine’s guest bed was so comfortable. The sun danced through the big windows, waking Cecily fairly early. It was a good thing though, since she had a lot to do, and very little time to do it. Cecily got up and dressed herself in her purple dress. Since it was the only clothes that she had, she was certainly getting a lot of wear out of it. She burst into the kitchen where Aunt Josephine sat at the kitchen island reading a trashy gossip magazine. Brunhilda was making breakfast. She gave Aunt Josephine a big hug. After all, it couldn’t hurt. “Good morning Miss Josephine,” Cecily greeted “Hello there Cecily,” replied Aunt Josephine. “Did you sleep well?” “I slept beautifully,” Cecily replied. “What would you like Brunhilda to fix you for breakfast?” Aunt Josephine asked. “Actually, I was planning on taking Mr. Cliff breakfast in bed,” said Cecily. “Since this is my last day with him, I thought that he would like it.” “Don’t plan on seeing Mr. Cliff until at least three or four,” Brunhilda laughed. “That man hasn’t been up before noon since his parents brought him home from the hospital." “Cliff can get his ass up,” retorted Aunt Josephine. “It’s his last day with Cecily. He can make the most of it. They can eat up on his balcony.” “Alright,” Brunhilda sighed. She turned to Cecily. “What would like me to make for Mr. Cliff’s breakfast?” “Whatever he usually has for breakfast I guess,” replied Cecily. She had no idea what Cliffs usually ate for breakfast. Brunhilda got out a tray and trudged over to the refrigerator. She took out an ice, cold, bottle of Heineken, opened it with her bottle opener, and placed it on the tray. “There you have it,” she replied. “Cliff’s breakfast.” “Oh honestly Brunhilda,” Aunt Josephine scoffed. “Can’t you make Clifford some eggs or something?” “Oh he’s so picky about how he takes his eggs,” Brunhilda muttered. “Judging by the three empty bottles of absinthe that I cleared out from last night, he’s not going to want to eat any breakfast. Trust me.” “Fine,” sighed Aunt Josephine. “I’ll be taking breakfast out on the veranda.” She smiled to Cecily. “If Cliff doesn’t want to wake up right now you can come and take your breakfast with me dear.” “Yes Ma’am,” nodded Cecily. Brunhilda fixed the breakfast tray with a vase of tea roses, Cliff’s beer, his pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a clean ashtray, and some toast and hot chocolate for Cecily. “Do you need help carrying that tray up all of those stairs?” she asked. “Nope,” Cecily replied as she carefully lifted Cliff’s breakfast tray. “I can do it.” She knew that she could carry the tray up to Cliff’s room, but she wasn’t sure if she could convince him to let her stay in San Francisco. Cecily gently knocked on his door. There was no answer. “Mr. Cliff!” she hissed. She let herself in the room, careful to not trip over Cliff’s bass and amp which were strewn about in the middle of the room. Cliff was totally sacked out in the bed. Cecily set the tray down, and opened up the curtains, letting sunlight flood the room. “Ugh, Aunt Josephine,” Cliff growled. “It’s too fucking early for this shit.” He stuffed his head under the pillows, and let out a repulsive sounding groan. “It’s not Miss Josephine. It’s me, Cecily,” Cecily picked up her tray, and carried it over to Cliff’s bed. “It’s too early for your shit too Cecily,” Cliff growled. In a much sweeter tone he added, “go back to bed sweetie.” “But I brought you breakfast,” Cecily argued. “Breakfast in bed.” “Breakfast?” Cliff snarled. “I don’t eat breakfast.” “But I brought it for you,” Cecily protested. “Damn kid, you’re as bad as Kirk,” Cliff moaned. He sat up in the bed. He couldn’t help but smile at the bright-eyed Cecily, wearing her purple dress that he had bought her. “You brought me my beer and my cigarettes!” he laughed. “Your breakfasts are certainly better than Kirk’s.” “Brunhilda helped,” said Cecily as Cliff took the tray from her. “Good ole Brunhilda,” Cliff said as he lit a cigarette. “Beer and cigarettes. She’s the best cook.” “I thought that since it’s our last day that we could spend the whole day together,” said Cecily as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “You don’t want to do that Cecily,” said Cliff as he took a sip of beer. “I have a boring ass day ahead of me. I’m going to go down to this guitar store and see if they have any bands posted on their bulletin boards that are in need of a bassist. I also have to go to the bank, and deposit the whole whooping thirty bucks that I made while I was in Denmark. ” “That sounds fun,” said Cecily. “No it doesn’t,” Cliff laughed as he tried to somewhat untangle Cecily’s untamed hair. “Oh but it does,” replied Cecily. “Anything is fun as long as it’s with you Cliff. You don’t want to go down to the bank and guitar store by yourself. Don’t you think that it would be much more fun with a little girl to keep you company?” “The dudes who hang out down at the guitar store are kind of scary,” said Cliff. “They can’t be any scarier than Mr. James,” retorted Cecily. Cliff laughed “That is very true,” he replied. He watched as Cecily very properly put her napkin on her lap, and bit into a piece of toast, chewing with her mouth closed. He remembered his conversation with Aunt Josephine. Cliff looked down at his lap in horror. Sure enough, even though he wasn’t eating anything, he had put his fucking napkin on his lap. “Plus, if the dudes down at the guitar store give me a hard time I can always tell them that I know when, where, and how Geezer Butler was born,” added Cecily. “Alright you win,” replied Cliff. “Can I have some of your toast?” Cecily nodded, and pushed the plate towards Cliff. “I’ll take you with me to the bank and guitar store today,” Cliff went on. Then afterwards, since it’s our last day together, I’ll take you down to a special place that my Dad used to take me to all of the time when I was a kid. Would you like that?” “I would like that very much!” Cecily said happily. He didn’t exactly say that she could stay in San Francisco, but at least he was taking her to the guitar store. “Cool,” Cliff replied as he grounded out his cigarette. “I’m going to take my shower now. Why don’t you run along and go draw me another Misfits picture.” “But Mr. Cliff,” said Cecily as she took the tray and hopped off of the bed. “You said that they were poorly drawn.” And with that, Cecily left the room. “I didn’t mean it though!" Cliff yelled after her.. “Shit,” he thought. “How’d she know? I never told her that. Did I?” |
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| Raedoll | August 12, 2007, 12:20 am Post #188 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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gOOD THING fLEMMING CANCELLED THE CREDIT CARD. and the capslock stuck because I was too excied to turn it off. ANYWAY THat hotel owner is just a FUCKER. I hate him. It sucks about Kirk geting banished to the back seat.....but Cecily is so freaking cute! I love how she brought Cliff breakfast in bed and shared her toast with him. She's got that man WHIPPED!!!! I love it. Aunt Josephine is wrong about a few things with Clif, because Cecily's bettering him to the best of her abilities. I really hope that he lets her stay...they would be so good to eachother and if a girl saw that Cliff's responsible enough to take care of a little girl that he's a sweet, caring man.
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| Verity | August 12, 2007, 10:50 pm Post #189 |
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The Story Girl
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Rae- Glad you're enjoying this. I apoligize if this chapter is boring. It might be. Anyway, I hate the motel owner too. And later on, next chapter or so, Cecily will definitely have a few tricks up her sleeve. Chapter 53- Kirk Bathes in Milk and Cecily's Outing “Pour in some more milk James, please?” Kirk asked. James sighed with great annoyance as he grabbed the jug of milk that Kirk had purchased at a twenty-four hour convenience store, and poured it into the bathtub. “Honestly Kirk this is fucking ridiculous,” he scoffed. “Bathing in milk?” “It makes one pretty,” Kirk replied as he leaned his head back, letting his body and mind soak into the milky mixture. “You’re such a superficial little fucker,” James snarled. “Lemmy from Motorhead says that beauty is not found on the outside, but on the inside, in the soul.” Kirk frowned at James. “Cleopatra bathed in milk every single day, and she went a hell of a lot further in life than Lemmy ever did,” he retorted. “Fuck you!” James snapped. He poured the rest of the milk right over Kirk’s perfectly permed mound of curls. Kirk let out a shriek. Emily poked her head in the bathroom. “Whatever are you two doing in here?” she demanded. “Trying to help Hamster find his balls,” James replied. “Oh Kirk, you’re taking a milk bath!” exclaimed Emily. “I just love bathing in milk.” “Really?” asked James, his eyes lighting up as if it were Christmas morning. “That’s hot. Maybe when Kirk’s finished, you can teach me how to take one. I’d like to bath in milk. I’m sure that you’re a fantastic teacher.” “Shut up James!” snarled Emily. “I will do no such thing. The reason that I take milk baths is because they make the skin as soft as” “A baby’s bum!” Kirk finished for her, laughing. “Chicks don’t dig dudes with soft skin,” returned James bitterly. “Chicks dig guys dudes that are clean shaven, and smell nice,” reported Kirk. “It’s true,” shrugged Emily. James scowled. “Anyway,” Emily went on. “I was doing some calculating and I found that if we can manage to get on the road by seven tomorrow morning, we can get to San Francisco by eleven at night.” “If we can even afford to put gas in the car,” James snapped. “Renting a car and driving was a stupid idea.” “It sure wasn’t my idea!” Kirk chirped from the bathtub. “Maybe your Mom will give us money Kirk,” suggested James. “You know she doesn’t have much money James,” Kirk answered sadly. “I can’t wait to see her again! I’ve missed her so! Just think, tomorrow we’ll be home.” “Do you guys know exactly where this rich aunt of Cliff’s even lives?” asked Emily. “Good question,” replied James as he popped open a beer, and sat down on the edge of Kirk’s bathtub. “Do you know Hamster?” “Somewhere in the Napa Valley I reckon,” Kirk replied. “Shit, that’s even an hour further than San Francisco,” said James. “The Napa Valley is huge Kirk. Where in the Napa Valley does she live?” “How the fuck should I know?” Kirk grumbled. “I’ve never met the woman.” “I thought that you were Cliff’s little friend,” snapped James. “I became his friend while in Denmark,” Kirk answered. “I have no idea where this Aunt Josephine lives. I don’t even know the woman’s last name. We could just go up to every house in the Napa Valley, knock on the door, and ask for Cliff.” “If I ever get brutally murdered, I don’t want you guys investigating the case,” Emily retorted. “Do you guys at least have some sort of phone number for Cliff?” “We have the number at his parent’s house,” said Kirk. “But he didn’t want them to know that he got fired.” “Well too bad,” shot James. “We’ll go to your Mom’s place Hamster, and we’ll get a hold of Cliff from there.” “I can’t wait to be home!” Kirk exclaimed. “I’m going to ask my Mom to make us one of her Charlotte Russe cakes. I can just imagine it now, dripping with custard.” “Well, while you’re off in candy land, I’m going to try and think of some way for us to put gas in the car,” scoffed Emily. “We’ll use your credit card of course. Sugar momma,” replied James. “I’m not your sugar momma!” screamed an exasperated Emily. “I can’t keep charging up my credit card. It’s not like Cliff is God’s gift to bass!” “Actually, he kind of is,” returned James. “There’s no reasoning with any of you!” Emily groaned, and she went back into the motel room. James watched her from over by the bathroom door as she sat down on one of the beds, and opened up the atlas she had bought. Lord, she’s hot when she’s angry, he thought. She’s sexy hot. James looked Emily up and down. His eyes stopped at the two mounds that were poking up under the I DENVER on her sweatshirt. He would have given anything to have those two mounds right in his hands. She had her hair pulled back from her face in a messy pony tail, and she had put on her reading glasses as she studied the atlas. Damn, she was hot. James’s whole stomach began to flutter at the very thought of her. Why the fuck were they letting a bozo like Cliff have her? He didn’t deserve her, he didn’t even say goodbye to her when he left. James realized that now he had the golden opportunity. God, if only I could get Hamster out of here, he thought. Maybe I could send the little weasel down to the vending machine later. I’m stuck in a motel room on a cold, snowy, night with a beautiful woman. I just have to make the most of it. James was jolted out of his reverie by Kirk, who had jumped out of the bathtub like a cat that had a firecracker lit under its ass. “Emily! James!” he cried, as he tied a towel around his waist. “I’ve got it! I know how we can get money for gas!” “Sell you into slavery?” James said, frowning at Kirk. “No,” Kirk retorted, feeling a wee bit hurt. “Mr. Chelton! He’d help us. He would always help me. He knows Cliff, and he adores little Cecily. I’m sure that if we called him up and asked him, he would wire us some money.” “Do you have the money to make a long distance call to Denmark?” James asked. Kirk shook his milky mass of dark curls. Emily got out her pocketbook, and fished around for her credit card. “Here,” she sighed. “But this is the last time.” *** Cliff would never admit it but having Cecily in his territory was kind of fun. Aunt Josephine had sent Brunhilda out to get Cecily a pair of jeans, a pair of sneakers, a top, and a light jacket, so that she’d have something to wear besides her pretty purple party dress. Cliff found it very amusing driving along and having little Cecily sitting in the passenger seat. He blasted the Misfits as loud as humanly possible, and Cecily was trying to head bang, even though she wasn’t very good at it. “My hairs not long enough,” she cried. “Of course it is,” Cliff told her. “It’s as long as mine. You just have to learn how to do it properly. I’ll show how sometime.” “But Mr. Cliff,” said Cecily sweetly. “There won’t be a sometime. You’re sending me back tonight. Remember?” “That’s right,” Cliff muttered as he pulled into the parking lot of the guitar store. Cliff helped Cecily undo her safety belt, and held her hand right until they were about to enter the store, then he pulled away from her. “Did I do something wrong Mr. Cliff?” Cecily asked. “No,” Cliff replied. “Just do me a favor and don’t hover around me while we’re in here. Okay?” “Alright,” responded a confused Cecily. Cliff knew that his three buddies Plog, Chet, and Dusty, would be working. He wanted to keep questions regarding Cecily down to a minimum. He didn’t need any rumors flying around the Bay Area metal scene. He was hoping that she would go unnoticed. “No fucking way!” Plog exclaimed as soon as he saw Cliff come through the door. “Look who’s here!” “Burton! Cliff Burton is back!” Dusty happily cried as he ran to greet his friend. “You’re not too good to be hanging out with us guitar hack peons?” “Of course not!” Cliff replied, as he happily greeted his three friends. For some reason, Cliff seemed to show no interest in introducing Cecily to any of his friends. He was flat out ignoring her. Cecily took that as her cue to get lost. She began to wander around the guitar store. It was filled with so many wonderful, shiny things. There were rows and rows of guitars hanging up on the walls, and stacks of amplifiers. Cecily had never seen anything quite like it. “So is the new album finished?” asked Chet. “When can we buy it?” “There’s no reason to buy it,” Cliff responded as he lit up a cigarette and passed one to Plog. “I’m not on it.” “What?” All three of the guitar dudes chorused in unison. “Lars fired me,” Cliff said with a shrug. His three friends sat there gawking at him, openmouthed. “What?” Cliff snarled. “Quit fucking staring at me. I’m not a circus animal!” “Those dudes licked your pussy in order to get you to join their band,” Chet stammered. “I can’t believe that they would actually get rid of you. Whatever did you do?” “It’s a long story,” Cliff sighed as he blew out a cloud of smoke. “Let’s just say that I played a joke on Lars, and he didn’t find it all that funny.” “Well I think that Ulrich’s making a terrible mistake,” Dusty mused. “I always thought that Ulrich was a bit of a pit bull. He even kind of looks like one too. I’ve seen him in here with Kirk Hammett, and he treats the poor guy like shit.” “Hammett is his bitch,” Cliff replied. “Anyway, you fuckers know any bands that are in need of a bassist?” “We got a flyer from this one band,” Plog mumbled. “They’d shit to have a bassist as good as you are. You wouldn’t even need to audition.” He dug around behind the counter. “Ah ha!” he exclaimed. “Here it is. Bassist needed for a punk metal band.” He handed the flyer to Cliff. “The Penis Wrinkles?” Cliff read. “Fuck. How in the hell do I tell my parents that I’ve gone from Metallica, to a band called the Penis Wrinkles?” As Cliff and Plog discussed the Penis Wrinkles, Dusty began to go around the store straightening up the displays. He noticed a little girl looking at a bass. He despised it when people brought little kids into the store. All they did was break shit. To Dusty’s horror, the little girl reached out with her index finger and plucked a string on the bass. “Hey kid!” Dusty yelled at her. “Get away from there! Don’t you be touching our basses!” Cecily backed away from the bass at once. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “Please don’t yell at me.” “Didn’t your parents teach you any respect for other people’s property?” Dusty ranted. “What would you do if you had broke it? Huh? You kids never think of that!” “I was just pretending to be like Geezer Butler!” Cecily yelled hotly. “Hey!” Cliff barked, as he came over towards Dusty and the little girl. “Don’t you yell at her!” “She was touching the basses,” Dusty stammered. “She wasn’t hurting anything!” Cliff snapped. To Dusty, Chet, and Plog’s amazement the little girl ran behind Cliff. Cliff reached out and pulled the kid close to his side. “I’m sorry Cess,” he said. The girl had started crying, yes again. “Cliff, you know this girl?” Dusty asked, his face had turned completely red. “Does that brat belong to you Cliff?” asked Plog. “She’s not a brat Plog,” Cliff replied. “And yes, she belongs to me, but just for today.” “What she doing here?” Chet asked. “It’s a long story,” sighed Cliff. “Nice going ass wad!” Plog snarled at Dusty. “You scream at a kid in our store, and she happens to be Burton’s daughter.” “I didn’t know,” mumbled Dusty. He looked at Cecily, who had her face buried in Cliff’s side. “Look kid. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that Cliff was your Dad. He never told us.” “He’s not my Dad,” Cecily whimpered. “She’s right,” Cliff said. “Like I said, it’s a long story. Don’t cry Cecily.” “But I made all of your guitar dude friends angry with me,” Cecily sniffled. “I wanted them all to like me.” Now Mr. Cliff will never keep me, she thought. “Don’t mind Dusty,” Chet said as he yanked on one of Cecily’s curls. “He’s just an old cud is all. Nobody likes him. As a daughter or friend, or whatever you are of Cliff’s, you’re allowed to touch anything in our store.” “Really?” Cecily asked, as she wiped at her eyes. “Yep,” Chet nodded. “You’re the guest of honor.” He reached over to the counter and grabbed a basket of guitar picks. “You want a guitar pick?” he asked. “Oh yes please,” Cecily said, much happier. As Cecily dug through the basket of guitar picks, Cliff looked at the Penis Wrinkle flyer and sighed. “Are you sure these dudes will hire me?” he asked. “In a heartbeat,” replied Plog. “Call and ask for Tony. He’ll hook you up.” “I hope so,” Cliff mumbled as he stuffed the flyer into his pocket. “Wow. I’m in the Penis Wrinkles.” “What’s a Penis Wrinkle?” asked Cecily. “I’ll tell you when you’re eighteen,” replied Cliff as he started to usher her out the door. “But don’t you remember? You’re getting rid of me tonight,” said Cecily. “There is no when I’m eighteen. I don’t think that the Penis Wrinkles is a very romantic or tragic name for a rock band.” “It’s not Cecily,” said Cliff. Plog, Dusty, and Chet watched mystified as Cliff and Cecily left the shop. “Tragic? Romantic? Did he give that kid weed?” Chet mused, as he watched the duo make their way to Cliff’s car. “That’s some fucked up shit,” Dusty announced. “I never knew that they had rent-a-kid for-the-day programs.” “I think it’s a Danish thing,” said Chett. “I don’t think that we’ve seen the last of her,” Plog stated as he watched Cliff open the car door for Cecily. “Actually, I think that they compliment each other rather nicely…” |
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| MissMetallica;; | August 13, 2007, 1:48 am Post #190 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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aww poor cecily getting yelled at by dusty. it was funny when he got told off by cliff though i like it how youve put alot of different side adventures in along the way. pure brilliance!kirk bathing in milk god dammit girl you put some ideas into our heads JAMES. you'd better not even THINK about getting a hold of emily, actually.. i dont think emily would go for james anyway something about her attitude towards him is telling me that she thinks hes a dick. lolthe penis wrinkles. what an interesting name for a band. i hope james, kirk and em can get there before he calls them! |
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| Verity | August 13, 2007, 1:21 pm Post #191 |
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The Story Girl
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I'm glad that you don't mind the side adventures. I thought that it was time for Cecily to get yelled at. And yeah. I'm taking scenic route with this fic. In all honestly, I had no idea what to write for that previous chapter. The night before I had watched a show that I like on DVD and there was a scene where this actress chick is bathing in milk. So I took that idea and yeah, wrote the chapter. It was a nice idea though.
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| Raedoll | August 13, 2007, 1:43 pm Post #192 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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I love Cliff and Cecily, and this chapter wasn't boring. Kirk milkbathing is logical, since he's a silly little vain doll. James is such a pig. *smack* Iunlike him that much. He thinks with the area between his legs in this particular fiction, which is seriously uncool. Emily's being real classy taking James' taunts and shit the way she is. Cliff's friends are weird, and what an *awful* band name. Bleh. At least it's a job though Cliff could probably do better teaching bass than playing with a band. I can't wait for more though
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| Raluque | August 13, 2007, 2:26 pm Post #193 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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James is not a pig... he's just himself still like him though.Cecily's got Cliff whipped. I like that too. And Cecily mentioning Geezer Butler to get away from being screamed at... PRECIOUS
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| Verity | August 13, 2007, 9:11 pm Post #194 |
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The Story Girl
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Raluque- Yeah, James is just a big ball of sex crazed testosterone. And he enjoys the company of beautiful women. Rae- I'm not very good with band names. The Penis Wrinkles was actually this little club that some kids in my school started way back in like 8th grade. I'm not even sure what they did. They made special bracelets, and I think that's about all they did. Kristen: Kirk needs to take lots of milk baths. And I replied to you earlier. this chapter does jump around a bit. I'm sorry about that, but I had fun writing it. Chapter 54- Cecily’s Last Chance “I’m sorry that I got your friend all mad at me,” Cecily said to Cliff once they were back in the car. “Dusty can be a dick sometimes,” Cliff replied. “Just that the next time that you see a guitar that you want to touch, always be sure to ask first. Okay?” “Okay,” Cecily nodded, as she gazed out the window. “I’m going to buy my very own bass someday.” Cliff was about to open his mouth, and tell her that she didn’t have to, he’d buy her one once she got older, but he caught himself. Cecily was going home tonight. “And when I do buy myself a bass I’m going to name her Cordelia,” Cecily babbled on. “Don’t you think that Cordelia is one of the most romantic names in the world?” “I banged a Cordelia once,” Cliff stated as he flipped off an asshole driver. “Was she beautiful?” asked Cecily. “Hmmm, sort of. She was different looking,” said Cliff. “Was she wonderful?” Cecily asked. “Eh, she was alright,” Cliff groaned. “Not the best that I’ve had, but not the worst.” He pulled the car into a parking lot and parked it. “Does your bass have a name?” Cecily asked, as she watched Cliff fumble around for his cigarettes. “Yep,” Cliff nodded. “I call him The Motherfucker.” Cecily made a face. “Mr. Cliff!” she laughed. “That’s not a very romantic name at all.” “And just why the hell not?” Cliff teased. “What should I call it? The Bass of Shining Waters?” He reached over into the passenger seat and began to tickle the hell out of Cecily. Cecily began to laugh hysterically. She had never been tickled before. “Come on you rat!” Cliff cried as he grabbed Cecily, and slung her over his shoulders as if she were a sack of potatoes. “Let’s go.” “Where are we going?” Cecily asked. “A place that my Dad used to take me,” replied Cliff, as he set Cecily down on the ground, and took her hand. “Golden Gate Park.” *** Meanwhile, back in Denmark Lars and Claudia had made their way down to the front desk. “Call the airport!” Lars barked at the desk clerk. “Tell them to put me on the next plane to San Francisco, first class.” “Flemming cancelled your card Lars,” Claudia said. “How can you afford it?” “Don’t you remember?” Lars shot. “I’m the son of Torben Ulrich. I can afford anything. I have to go. I have to get my band back. I can’t have James and Kirk galloping all over the globe like two wild ponies.” “Can I go to San Francisco too?” Yann asked. “No Yann, you may not,” said Lars. “You should stay here and practice. You need all of the practice that you can get.” Yann scowled. “But I’ve always wanted to see the world’s most crookedest street,” he whined. “It’s overrated, trust me,” Lars scoffed. “But Lars,” Yann whimpered. “Hold your tongue!” Lars snapped, and he smacked Yann upside the head. “The next flight to San Francisco leaves tomorrow at noon,” announced the desk clerk. “Book it,” ordered Lars. “One seat in first class. It has to be a window seat too. Make sure that they give me lots of leg room.” The desk clerk nodded and then looked at Claudia. “Oh by the way Miss Claudia, your daughter called a while ago and left a message.” “She did?” Claudia asked, her eyes growing wide. “My poor Cecily! Is she alright?” “She sounded just fine over the phone,” said the desk clerk. He handed Claudia a piece of paper. The message read: Hi Mum, Mr. James, Mr. Kirk, Miss Emily, and I were trying to stop Mr. Cliff from leaving. We were too late, and I snuck onto the plane. I’m in San Francisco with Mr. Cliff. I’m doing fine. I’m happy here. I love it here! Love Cecily “I’ll be damned,” Claudia gasped. She went over to the couches, and sat down. She read the note again. “Is she dead?” Lars asked, coming over to sit beside her. For an answer, Claudia showed the note to Lars. “Hey, we were right,” Lars said as he read it. “Cecily is with Cliff. That’s sweet.” “No it’s not!” Claudia retorted. “She’s with Cliff on the other side of the world!” “That’s a hell of a lot better than her being off with some sick wacko,” said Lars. “At least she’s safe and well cared for. The worst thing that could happen to her is that Cliff gives her a joint.” “No,” said Claudia. “The worst thing that could happen to her is that she decides that she’d rather stay in San Francisco.” “Why?” asked Lars. “It’s a nice city. The warmer weather would probably be good for the kid. You said that she’s always sick all the time. Plus, you said that being saddled with a kid is difficult. With Cecily gone, you’d have complete freedom.” Tears were starting to brim in Claudia’s eyes. “I fucked up,” she lamented. “I’ve fucked everything up. Everything has gone so very wrong. My daughter would rather live in San Francisco with a stoner than with her own mother.” “Well, Cliff did buy her that stupid purple dress,” added Lars. “That’s probably the only reason that she wants to live with him.” “He can give her things that I can’t,” cried Claudia. “Like pot,” chirped Lars. “Lots and lots of pot. Look Claudia, I can bring Cecily to Denmark with me after I collect Kirk and James. My Dad can totally spring for Cecily’s ticket back here.” “Oh I don’t know Lars,” Claudia said through tears. “Maybe she should just stay in San Francisco. The warmer climate would be better for her fragile health. She loves Cliff. She’s only loves me because I’m her mother, other than that, she hasn’t really taken to me. She’s always hated all of my boyfriends, but then again, none of my boyfriends have ever showed Cecily much attention. She’d be happier with Cliff.” “I say you leave her in San Francisco with Cliff for a while,” said Lars. “It doesn’t have to be forever. Just call her back, and let her know.” Lars really didn’t want to have to spend fourteen focking hours on an airplane with Cecily back to Denmark. Especially, since she had kicked him in the shins. He had no desire to see that girl ever again. She was the whole reason that Metallica was in this big mess that they were in. All because of her, Cliff, Kirk, Mr. Chelton, and that stupid, asinine, Father of the Year Contest. It had wrecked everything. “I don’t know,” Claudia sighed. She was exhausted, hung over, and emotionally drained. “It’s alright Claudia,” Lars said soothingly. He put his arm around her. “You’re not being a bad mother.” “Thank you for understanding Lars,” replied Claudia. Lars gently gave Claudia a kiss on the nape of her neck. “Lars,” Yann asked, coming over to them, and cutting into their moment. “When are we having lunch?” *** Cecily closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the cool ocean air. She had to take in everything, the sights, the smells, even the sound of the seagulls squawking through the air. “Cecily,” Cliff snapped. “What the hell are you doing?” “Just trying to fix San Francisco in my mind,” Cecily replied. “That way, I can remember everything as a beautiful dream that will forever haunt me. The Bay of Shining Waters, the flowers, the smells, the beaches. I have to remember it all.” “I’ll buy you a couple of postcards at the airport,” Cliff replied. “But it’s not the same,” Cecily argued. “I can’t buy a postcard of you.” “Buy a Metallica record,” said Cliff. “Or maybe I should say a Penis Wrinkle record.” “But I want to stay with you,” said Cecily. She knew that she was really getting down to the wire. “I need you. You’re like a father to me.” “Cecily, you got along just fine without a father for five years,” said Cliff as lit a cigarette. “That’s because I didn’t know what it was like to have one,” said Cecily. “They say that you don’t miss what you’ve never had.” “You want to go feed the birds?” Cliff asked. “I’ll get us some bird seed.” “I just want to stay with you,” said Cecily. “Sometimes we all don’t get what we want in life,” said Cliff. “I really don’t want to join the Penis Wrinkles, but I have no choice. You don’t want to go back to Denmark, but you haven’t got a choice.” He zipped up her jacket for her, heaven forbid she came down with the fever again. Cecily fell to her knees right at Cliff’s feet. She grabbed on to Cliff’s hand. “Please Mr. Cliff,” she begged. “Please let me stay. You can lock me in a dank, dark, cold, ab, ab, ab-” Abysmal?” Cliff finished for her. Cecily nodded. “An abysmal dungeon that’s inhibited with rats and toads,” she went on. “You can feed me only water and the crusts of moldy bread, but please don’t send me back to Denmark!” “Get up Cecily,” Cliff snarled shortly. “You’re making a scene! Everyone is looking at us. I’ve never heard such mindless twaddle come out of a child’s mouth before in my entire life! I’m not going to lock you in a fucking dungeon with toads, but I am sending you back to Denmark to your Mom, and that’s final.” He helped Cecily back up to her feet. The little fixed frown on her face tugged at his heartstrings, and in a much gentler tone he said “Now you wait right here on this bench while I go and get us some bird seed. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Cecily sadly nodded, and took her seat on the bench. She had to think of something, she just had to! But what? How could she show Cliff that he needed her every bit as much as she need him? Out of the corner of her eye, Cecily spotted a beautiful young lady sitting over in the grass under a tree. She was lying on her stomach, totally amerced in a book. She had very long curly dark hair. Cecily thought that she looked like a rather nice lady, but what she noticed the most was her cleavage. James’s words came echoing through the little girl’s head. He kept saying that Cliff would like Emily more if she showed cleavage. It was all about the cleavage, cleavage was everything. Cecily looked over at Cliff. His back was turned, and he was fumbling around in his wallet. She hated to disobey him, in fear that he would smack her again, but she wanted to stay in San Francisco more. Cecily sprang up from her bench, and carefully made her way over to where the lady was. She was even more beautiful up close, at least to Cecily she was. She wore makeup, but nice makeup, not thick and heavy makeup like the kind that her mother wore, and she smelled like violets. Cecily also noticed that her nails were manicured perfectly. Cecily’s nails had been bit down to their nubbins. Cecily secretly wished that she could be half as pretty as this lady when she grew up. Surely, a lady who looked so nice would be willing to help her? Cecily, shy around new people, took a deep breath. She had to do this, especially if she wanted to stay in San Francisco. This was her very last chance… |
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| Raedoll | August 14, 2007, 12:00 am Post #195 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Poor Cecily...Cliff is such a softie with her. He can try and be stern or whatever but something about Cecily makes him melt into a gooey puddle. BWARH. Cecily best not stray far, otherwise Cliff might get real mad like. Claudia's thinking about letting Cecily stay in Frisco? Cecily would be over the moon, Cliff would feel a little happier and Aunt Josephine would be happy. Maybe if Cliff could convince Lars to let him back into Metallica Cliff could adopt Cecily....I hope the two of them stay happy Cecily trying to hold in everything of Frisco reminds me of what I might try to do if I ever get to go there. Can't wait for more
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I love it. Aunt Josephine is wrong about a few things with Clif, because Cecily's bettering him to the best of her abilities. I really hope that he lets her stay...they would be so good to eachother and if a girl saw that Cliff's responsible enough to take care of a little girl that he's a sweet, caring man.
and Cecily's Outing
DENVER on her sweatshirt. He would have given anything to have those two mounds right in his hands. She had her hair pulled back from her face in a messy pony tail, and she had put on her reading glasses as she studied the atlas. Damn, she was hot. James’s whole stomach began to flutter at the very thought of her. Why the fuck were they letting a bozo like Cliff have her? He didn’t deserve her, he didn’t even say goodbye to her when he left. James realized that now he had the golden opportunity.
still like him though.

8:42 PM Jul 10