Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to zetaboards. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Father of the Year; Kirk is going to get even with Lars. Het.
Topic Started: July 3, 2007, 9:40 pm (14,628 Views)
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Raluque- have fun on your vacation. I'm jealous. :dance I can't sleep tonight, so here's another update.

Kristen- I know poor Kirk. Bad Cliff. How dare he slam the door in Kirk's face. :(


This chapter is very appropriate because I'm wide awake at 4:30 in the morning. It's my fucking neck again. It's still fucked up. I've been covering it up with pain killers, but today I had to be gone for 10 hours working, and I forgot to take them with me, so it's gotten really bad again. It woke me up tonight. :( I also have a lot of other random shit on my mind.

anyway, here we go! This might even be the 3rd fucking update of the day. That's what happens when you can't sleep. :dance


Chatper 64- After Hours at Aunt Josephine’s

“Cecily, may I come in?” Emily asked. She opened Cecily’s bedroom door up a crack.

Cecily looked up from the pillow that she had been crying in. When she saw Emily, her entire face lit up. Miss Emily was here! Here, in San Francisco! She ran over to her, and threw her arms around her.

“Miss Emily!” she cried. “How did you get here?”

“I came with Mr. James,” Emily replied. “Boy am I glad to see you. You look so much better.”

“I do?” Cecily asked.

“When you left Denmark, you were still very pale from the fever,” Emily said. “You have some color back in your face now, and I like your new jeans and shirt.”

“Miss Josephine got them for me,” replied Cecily. “I had no luggage. I shouldn’t have come here. Mr. Cliff doesn’t want me.”

“Cecily, that isn’t true,” said Emily. She gently stroked the little girl’s hair.

“He said that I’m useless, and that my Misfits pictures are poorly drawn,” Cecily lamented.

“Cliff says a lot of really weird shit,” said Emily. She blushed when she had realized that she had cussed in front of Cecily. She had been hanging around with Kirk and James so much that cussing had become a second nature. Her hand flew up to her mouth.

“It’s okay Miss Emily,” Cecily said. “Mr. Cliff says “shit” all of the time. He says fuck, and asshole, and bitch, and cun-.”

“That’s quite enough Cecily. I get the picture,” Emily told her. “You are never to say those words again!”

“Mr. Cliff says that I can say them when I’m eighteen,” Cecily returned.

“He’s very right about that,” said Emily. “But he’s wrong about your Misfits pictures. I think that they’re very good.”

This seemed to please Cecily a great deal. She snuggled down next to Emily. “At least you care about me Miss Emily,” she said.

“I do very much, and so does Cliff,” Emily said. “I think that sometimes he forgets that you’re not his daughter. That’s why it was so easy for him to play you off as his.”

“I loved being Cecily Burton,” Cecily sighed. “She had everything: a wonderful dad, a fantastic great aunt, and a nice grandmother to have tea with. I liked being her even more than Cecily Ulrich. I mean, Cecily Ulrich had a dad, but Cliff tells better stories, and buys prettier dresses than Mr. Lars does.”

“That’s because he buys them from me,” replied Emily. “Cliff just told me now that he’s planning on making all of this up to you.”

“The only way that he could do that is by letting me stay in San Francisco,” Cecily sighed wistfully.

“Are you hungry dear?” Emily asked. “You are more than welcome to come have dinner with us. Or, I could even bring you up a tray.”

Cecily shook her head. “No thank you,” she said. “Mr. Cliff is sending me home tomorrow, so I’m in the depths of despair. I could never eat while in the depths of despair.”

***
However, later that night depths of despair or not, Cecily got hungry. She wasn’t the only one though.

Cliff rolled over in his bed and opened an eye. The house was quiet, and it was completely dark in his room. The bedside clock read 4:15 AM.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he sat up. He must have passed out, for he was still in his daytime clothes. His head was spinning from all of the whiskey that he had had, and he was ravenously hungry. He supposed that by 4:15 in the morning it would be safe to go down to the kitchen, and fix himself a snack. He could even swipe some food to take up to his room, and he could also grab that weed that was hiding in the living room clock.

He grabbed the candle that sat on his bedside table, and lit it so that it could light his way.
Careful not to wake his aunt or Cecily, Cliff tiptoed through the hallway, and crept down the stairs. When he hit the parlor, he noticed that there were fifteen empty beer bottles, six empty bottles of vodka, an empty bottle of gin, and two empty bottles of tequila, sitting near the wet bar. Most of it was sadly probably single handedly consumed by his father and James.

Cliff pushed open the kitchen door. He stopped dead in his tracks. He wasn’t alone.

His candlelight flashed upon little Cecily, who was also still dressed in her daytime clothes. She was sitting in the dark at the kitchen island, making herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, using her candle as her only source of light.

“Cecily!” Cliff gasped. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

“What are you doing up Mr. Cliff?” she asked.

“I’m always up prowling around at night,” Cliff returned. “But you should have been in bed ages ago.”

“I didn’t have any dinner,” Cecily explained as she carefully put down her butter knife. “I was hungry. Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you Sweetheart,” said Cliff. “But you shouldn’t be sitting here in the dark, especially while you’re using knives and shit. What if you had cut yourself?”

“No one would give a shit,” Cecily shrugged as she licked jelly off of her fingers. “Plus, I can’t turn the lights on.”

“Why the hell not?” Cliff asked as he came over to sit down next to her.

“Because Mr. James and Miss Philippa are um, forni, forni,”

“Fornicating?” Cliff finished for her.

“Yes,” Cecily nodded. “They are fornicating in the hot tub outside in the backyard. They don’t want the kitchen lights shining on them ruining the mood. Mr. James even came running out of the hot tub to yell at me.” Cecily blushed. “He was completely naked.”

“Did you see his dick?” Cliff asked, as he happily reached for the pack of cigarettes that was sitting on the kitchen island.

Cecily broke out into a huge smile and nodded.

“Is it all that it’s cracked up to be?” Cliff asked as he used his candle to light his cigarette.

“Miss Philippa sure seems to like it,” Cecily answered.

“That’s okay,” Cliff sighed as he blew out a trail of smoke. “I lost her anyway.”

Cecily studied Cliff’s face in the candlelight.

“Mr. Cliff,” she said. “You have a red mark on your face.”

“Yeah,” Cliff nodded as he reached for an ashtray. “My Mom clobbered me this afternoon.”

“Why’d she do that?” Cecily asked.

“Because I deserved it,” replied Cliff.

Cecily leapt off of her stool, and went over to the freezer. She pulled out a couple of ice cubes from the icemaker, and wrapped them up in a paper towel. She handed it to Cliff.

“If you put ice on it, it will make it better,” she said.

“Aw Cess,” Cliff said as he set down his cigarette, and took the ice. He knew that the ice wouldn’t do anything. His face wasn’t swollen. It just still had a red mark. He didn’t have the heart to tell Cecily that though. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You’re welcome,” replied Cecily, looking away from him.

Cliff looked around the kitchen. He thought that he could hear in the distance the groans from James and Philippa. He shook his head.

“Damn, I’m starving,” he stated.

“Here.” Cecily pushed her plate with her peanut butter and jelly sandwich on it towards him.

“But this is your sandwich,” said Cliff. “Aren’t you hungry too?”

“I can make myself another one,” Cecily replied. “I even cut the crusts off of it for you.”

Sometimes, Cliff felt that his mother was right. Cecily was just too good for him. What did he ever do to deserve such a sweet little girl? Cliff watched as Cecily went over to the refrigerator, and took out a bottle of beer. Not just any beer, but a Heineken. She brought it back over to the kitchen island, and set it next to his plate.

“I thought that you might want a beer to go with your sandwich,” she said, and she started on making a sandwich for herself. “I would have opened it for you, but I don’t know how.”

She was so damn sweet, but Cliff knew that she probably wouldn’t stay so sweet if she stayed with Claudia. With Claudia, no one looked after her. She would grow up basically unsupervised, with no one around to guide her. Sadly, she would probably follow in her mother’s footsteps, and end up dropping out of school, or running off with the first boy that paid attention to her, and ending up pregnant and alone. He just couldn’t do that to her.

“Here,” he said as he stood up. “Let me do that for you. You made me my sandwich, I’ll make you yours.”

Cecily sat back down on her stool, and watched as Cliff took over her sandwich. Cliff shoved the knife into the jar of jelly.

“You don’t put the jelly on first,” she said. “The peanut butter goes first.”

“What the fuck’s the difference?” Cliff snapped.

“When you put the jelly on first it soaks right through the bread,” Cecily replied. “It doesn’t do that if you put it on after the peanut butter.”

“Oh piss fuck!” Cliff muttered. Here he was thinking about adopting the kid and he couldn’t even make her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He reached for another slice of bread so that he could start over.

“Cecily,” he began. “I’ve been doing some thinking tonight.”

“You’ve been doing some drinking too,” Cecily put in.

“How’d you know that?” Cliff demanded.

“I can smell it,” Cecily laughed.

Cliff rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” he went on. “I’ve been doing some thinking. How would you like to stay here in San Francisco?”

“You mean like forever?” Cecily asked.

“As long as you’d like,” said Cliff.

“Did you find another girl that you want me to try and get you to score with already?” Cecily asked.

“You wouldn’t be here to try and score me chicks Cess,” said Cliff.

“Then why would you keep me?” Cecily asked.

“For the hell of it,” replied Cliff. “For fun I guess, I’m lonely. And most of all, because I love you.”

Cecily’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes began to dance. She threw her arms around Cliff. “You really want to keep me?” she asked.

“I love you as if you were my own blood Cess,” Cliff told her, as he gave her a hug back. “I could apply to be your legal guardian, or whatever the fuck it is they call it. We’d have to check with your mom first. I know she’s off with some boyfriend for this week, so we’ll have to wait talk to her until we go back to Denmark to finish the album.”

“I’m sure that she’ll let me stay,” said Cecily. “She doesn’t care about me.”

Cliff really couldn’t argue with her. It was sad, but true. “Just remember that when I’m off on tours Aunt Josephine will be looking after you. You’ll have to mind her just as you would me. Hopefully, this new album will do well, and I can get us our own place. But for now, we’ll both be staying here. Can you behave around Aunt Josephine?”

“Oh I promise Mr. Cliff,” Cecily replied, nodding. “I think that Aunt Josephine is amazing. I want to be just like her when I grow up.”

“Yeah me too,” Cliff agreed. He ruffled Cecily’s hair.

“Do I get to call you Dad now?” she asked.

“Um, I’m not sure,” Cliff answered. “Why don’t you just call me Cliff for now? Drop the Mr. part though. It makes me sound old.”

“Okay Cliff,” Cecily agreed. “I’m so glad that I can stay. I can’t wait to tell Mandie that I’m staying!”

“That’s if it’s alright with your mother though,” Cliff reminded her.

He scooped up Cecily in his arms once again and held her close. “I have so much shit that I can’t wait to teach to you,” he said. “We’ll do all kinds of cool, crazy, shit together.”

“Like what?” Cecily asked.

“We can start right now,” said Cliff as he put Cecily back down. “Let’s take our sandwiches outside, and sneak out into the backyard to spy on Mr. James and Miss Philippa in the hot tub!”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
:tu: firstly i'd have to say a big congratulations on 3 updates in a day! ive been very entertained all day today with your continuous updating. :) thankyou for making my sunday good. :tu:

now that last bit, that was just sweet. all together now! AWWWWW

yay she's staying, i hope claudia doesnt get in the way and demand to have her back in denmark. *shakes fist at claudia*

hope you can get some sleep soon ashley.
this was a great update
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Kristen: I'm thrilled you are enjoying the updates. Even though I did write the last one late late at night, I did rather enjoy it. Nice and heartwarming like Christmas. :) I'm glad that you like it that Cecily is staying. If it wasn't for y'all liking her so much I would have had her die of the fever in Denmark. Nah, I'm not that mean.

Anyway, hopefully I will get some sleep tonight. I can't pull 2 all nighters in a row. And I think that Lars was feeling a bit neglected so I had to remedy that. :dance



Chapter 65- The Lars that Came Over for Breakfast


Kirk and Emily were seated in Mrs. Hammett’s sunny kitchen that very next morning. Unlike James and Philippa, they had no need to make use of Cliff’s Aunt Josephine’s amenities, so they had left after dinner the night before. Now they sat enjoying a fabulous breakfast. Mrs. Hammett had made them her famous (at least according to Kirk anyway) gingerbread pancakes, topped with real whipped cream, and cinnamon clove syrup.

As soon as they finished their breakfast, the two set up their needlework samplers, for Kirk wanted a lesson in cross stitch from Emily. He watched intently, as Emily showed him how to make a French knot. Every time that he leaned forward, his soft, black, springy, ringlets would brush against her cheek.

“You make it look so easy Emily,” he declared as he watched.

Mrs. Hammett lingered around the kitchen door, wondering if perhaps her little Kirk Lee might score himself a new girlfriend. She liked Emily much more than that flighty little Ernestine twit that he had been seeing. Before Kirk had left for Denmark, Ernestine hung around the Hammett house like a tenacious flu virus that just wouldn’t go away. Since Kirk had been away, she had no use for Mrs. Hammett anymore, the bitch!

Kirk admired Emily’s very neat sampler which depicted the scene of a rocky ocean shore and a lighthouse. “You’re so talented,” he breathed.

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” Emily replied with a shrug.

“Are you going to be a famous clothing designer someday?” Kirk asked.

“I hope. God willing,” said Emily as she concentrated on a stitch.

“Maybe you can design clothes for Metallica,” chattered Kirk as he turned his attention back to his own sampler.

“You guys wear ripped jeans and sweat stained band T-shirts,” Emily laughed. “What’s there to design?”

“I guess you’re right,” Kirk answered. He frowned at his sampler. He was trying to stitch the Misfits skull dude, but it was filled with knots.

Mrs. Hammett breezed into the kitchen. She was going to do everything in her power to make sure that her little Kirk Lee got took up with a “nice” girl.

“Hello Kirk Lee,” she greeted. “Hello Emily darling. I’m going to make you two kids a special picnic lunch for you to take to the park.”

“But Mama,” said Kirk. “We just ate a huge breakfast. We probably won’t even be hungry again until dinner.”

“Nonsense!” Mrs. Hammett scoffed. “My Kirk Lee needs to eat. You’re not on the road with Metallica right now eating nothing except fried salami meat and beer. You’re under my roof now, and under my roof you eat!”

“Actually Mrs. Hammett, I might not have the time to go to the park today,” said Emily. “If Cliff decides to send Cecily back to Denmark today, I would take her home. She’s much too young to be traveling that far alone.”

Mrs. Hammett frowned. If Emily went back to Denmark, Kirk would take up with that Ernestine again. “Don’t you think that Cliff would keep his daughter? It would be heartless of him to send her away.” she said.

“She’s not his daughter,” Kirk reminded her. “If he doesn’t decide to keep her, she goes home.”

“He’ll more than likely keep her,” said Emily. “He can’t resist Cecily.”

“Then you shall stay here in San Francisco and have a picnic lunch with my boy!” Mrs. Hammett demanded. “The both of you are skin and bones.”

“Uh, no we’re not,” said Kirk hotly.

You need to eat something!” Mrs. Hammett rambled. She threw a plate of gingerbread cookies down on the table.

“But Mama!” Kirk whined. “I’m going into gingerbread overload!”

Mrs. Hammett flounced out of the kitchen to go find her picnic hamper.

“I’m sorry Emily,” Kirk apologized. “That woman is going to have me shitting out pieces of gingerbread turds. She's obsessed with feeding people.”

"Like mother like son," Emily laughed.

This sent both Emily and Kirk into fits of giggles. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Kirk’s sampler.

“That’s an awfully nice house that you’re stitching,’ she said.

“It’s not a house!” Kirk retorted bitterly. “It’s supposed to be the Misfit’s logo, but it looks pathetic. I was going to give it to Cliff for Christmas.”

“Here,” said Emily as she reached for his sampler. “Let me help you.”

Kirk happily watched as Emily worked on fixing his stitching. Their idyllic morning soon came to a screeching halt. The back door of the house that led into the kitchen flew open as Lars Ulrich himself stormed in a thundering rage.

“There you are! I’ve been running my ass all over the whole cock sucking town of San Francisco trying to find you! I take that back, I’ve been running my ass all over the whole entire focking globe to find you guys!” he ranted. “Where do I find my band? Sitting with their thumbs up their asses working on focking stitchery!”

“Oh but look Lars,” Kirk said as he held up his sampler. “Emily has been helping me. It looks like the Misfits.”

Lars ripped the sampler out of Kirk’s hand, causing it to get crumpled. He threw it down onto the kitchen floor and stomped on it.

“Cut it out Lars!” Emily yelped.

“I want to know just who’s focking idea it was to use Flemming’s credit card and fly all over the entire cock sucking world?” Lars demanded, placing his hands on his hips.

“It would be James’s,” answered Kirk. “Please don’t hit me Lars.”

Lars threw a kitchen fork at him. “Shut up!” he snarled. “I’ll deal with you later. Just tell me where the fuck is James?”

“The last that I saw of him was last night,” Kirk cried through tears. “He was in the pool shed at Cliff’s Aunt’s house banging Philippa.”

“What was he doing at Cliff’s Aunt’s house?” asked Lars. “You weren’t over there courting him were you?”

“Courting Cliff?” Kirk repeated, wrinkling his face. “That’s gross Lars. Why would I want to court Cliff?”

Lars took a random copy of The Metallinews that Mrs. Hammett had had lying out on the kitchen table. He rolled it up, and whacked Kirk over the head with it. Kirk squealed as if he were a pig having a cattle prod rammed up his ass.

“Not courting him that way you dumb ass!” he snarled. “I mean like asking him back in the band! Cliff is not allowed back into Metallica!”

“I don’t know Lars!” Kirk squealed. “James was the one who asked him back. I had nothing to do with it!”

“Well then,” Lars sneered. “You’re just going to have to get off of your sorry ass and take me over to this rich Aunt’s of Cliff’s house, so that I can fire him again!”

“Oh no Lars,” Kirk pleaded. “Please don’t make me do that, and don’t hit me with that newspaper!”

Lars handed the newspaper to Emily.

“Smack Kirk upside the head with this,” he ordered.

“Okay,” Emily replied. She took the newspaper from Lars and then turned towards Kirk. She held the newspaper up over Kirk’s head. She whirled around, turned back to Lars, and instead, smacked Lars over the head with it.

“Fock you bitch!” Lars yelped as he grabbed his head.

Just then, Mrs. Hammett entered the kitchen carrying her picnic hamper.

“Why hello young Master Lars!” she exclaimed. “Long time no see.”

“I don’t have time to shoot the shit right now Mrs. H,” said Lars. “I’ve got some very important business to attend to.”

“Sheer hogwash!” Mrs. Hammett sniffed. “Eat first. Business later. Look at you!” she gestured at Lars. “You look like you’ve been through the famine. You need to eat! Are you hungry?”

“No. I’m not,” snapped Lars rather testily.

“Very well then,” replied Mrs. Hammett as she rolled up her sleeves and pushed him down into one of the kitchen chairs. “I’ll fix you something to eat.”

***

Cliff and Cecily were crashed out on the couch in Aunt Josephine’s living room. It was now reaching twelve noon, and they were still zonked out, using each other as pillows.

They had had a fabulous night of carousing around Aunt Josephine’s vineyard. The highlight was when they had turned the sprinklers on James and Philippa while they were still in the hot tub. This sent them on a wild goose chase throughout the vineyard as James and Philippa chased them. Cliff and Cecily took refuge in the stables, where Cliff showed Cecily the horses. When they had decided that James and Philippa had probably gone back to fucking, they took the horses out riding through the trails. It was Cecily’s first time on a horse ever. They rode to the furthest point of the vineyard, where they watched the sunrise. But now, they had crashed out on the sofa. Fortunately, it was Saturday and Cecily didn’t have school.

“Isn’t this cute,” Aunt Josephine mused as she floated into the living room that morning, and got a good look at the sleeping duo. “This should be the cover of a greeting card.”

“That’s what they get for gallivanting around for all hours of the night being nosy!” James groggily announced.

“James? Philippa?” Mrs. Burton exclaimed as she came down the stairs. “What the hell are you two still doing here? This isn’t a hotel.”

“It’s about as big as one,” shot James. “What are you still doing here?”

“This is my sister’s place,” Mrs. Burton replied. “I’m part of the family.”

“Young Master James and Miss Philippa were a little too intoxicated to drive home last night,” Aunt Josephine explained. “I let them stay in the night in the guest house.”

“I’ll stay the night here anytime,” said James.

“You’re always welcome here,” Aunt Josephine said as she gave James a pat on the back. “Why don’t you and Philippa run along and help Cliff’s Dad make bloody Mary’s to have with breakfast.”

“Fuck!” James gasped. “Y’all are drinking again? Fuck yeah! This rocks! Why couldn’t I have come from a kick ass family like the Burtons?” He followed Philippa into the kitchen. “They fucking drink even before noon!”

“I have a feeling that James is now going to be a permanent fixture here,” Mrs. Burton sighed to her sister.

“He’s not the only one,” returned Aunt Josephine.

“What do you mean?” asked Mrs. Burton.

Take a look at your son,” Aunt Josephine said. She pointed over towards the living room sofa. “There’s no way that he’s going to send that little girl back. I just know it. I can feel it in my bones. Look at them.”

Mrs. Burton quietly crept over to the sofa. She picked up an afghan off of one of the easy chairs, and carefully draped it over Cliff and Cecily.

“I hope that he does keep Cecily around. I really like her. I’d love to have her around as a granddaughter,” she said. “I think that Cliff has finally grown up.” She sniffed the air around her son. It reeked of Irish whiskey. “Well, almost,” she sighed. “At least he’s drinking the good stuff…”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
im happy that your happy about me loving the updates. whoa..i dont think that even made sense at all... :wacko: :lol:

the dreaded lars is back! and mrs. hammett was such a dear, forcing them to eat. definately "like mother like son". shes also so cute trying to get kirk and emily together, they would make a cute couple with their cross stitching. aww

and the cecily and cliff bit, that was sweet, so he's so good to her. :)

hope you get some sleep tonight, but if you don't you can always come and write another update for us :D :D
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Kristen- I'm glad that you're still digging the updates. You rock!
Mrs. Hammett is kind of based on my grandfather. Literally, you tell the man that you don't want any food and he goes "I'll go cook something for you." Then he'll watch you and make sure you practically lick the plate clean. So anyway, this chapter is for him. :dance



Chapter 66- Cakes and Bloody Marys


“I really like your hot tub a lot Miss Josephine,” said James as he sat at the kitchen island enjoying one of Mr. Burton’s wickedly potent bloody Marys, and watching her do her nails yet again.

“Why thank you Master James,” replied Josephine. “I’m thrilled that you’ve been enjoying my home.”

“You know that I’m Cliff’s best friend forever,” said James. I’m like his bosom friend and all, so perhaps I could like stay here too?”

That’s funny thought Aunt Josephine. I thought that Cliff said that Kirk was his bosom friend?

“Can I call you Aunt Josephine too?” James babbled on. “I’m not really close to any of my aunts. I don’t have a mom either. Please?”

“I guess that you can call me Aunt,” replied Josephine, studying James. “If you really want to.”

“Morning,” Cliff mumbled groggily as he shuffled into the kitchen. He went over to the coffee pot and frowned when he found it empty.

“I’ll tell Brunhilda to put on a fresh pot,” Aunt Josephine said.

Cliff mumbled something inaudible as he instead, took a sip of James’s Bloody Mary.

“Hey! Get your own!” James squabbled.

“Fuck you! Get your own aunt,” Cliff hissed. “Don’t take mine. I heard you two talking.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be back in the band,” James shot.

“Yeah, and if it wasn’t for me your band would suck,” Cliff replied gruffly as he lit his morning cigarette.

“Boys,” cut in Aunt Josephine. “Quit being pains in the asses, both of you!” She turned and smiled at Cliff. “Clifford,” she said. “Have you made a decision regarding Cecily? If you’re sending her home, I need to know so that I can have Brunhilda pack up her purple dress.”

“I’m keeping her,” replied Cliff smiling.

“Ugh,” groaned James. “What the fuck for?”

“As a pet James,” Cliff replied sarcastically. “I’m going to feed her and take her for walks on a leash.”

“She sure as hell keeps you on a tight leash,” muttered James.

“Clifford, this is wonderful news!” Aunt Josephine gasped. “It’s going to be a hell of a lot brighter around here with a little girl around.”

“And a virtuoso guitarist!” put in James.

“Your mother is going to be so excited,” said Aunt Josephine.

“Why?” asked Cliff. “She hates Cecily.”

“She does not hate Cecily,” Aunt Josephine snapped. “She thinks that Cecily is adorable. Now stop talking out of your ass and listen to me. This can’t be like the puppy that I bought you for Christmas last year, the one that your sister now has. You can’t take care of her for three days, and then decide that she’s lame and sucks ass, so you pawn her off on someone else.”

“I’m sorry Aunt Josephine, but that puppy was just an asshole,” Cliff scoffed. “It fucking bit me! Cecily’s not an asshole. Well at least not most of the time, and she doesn’t bite people.”

“She picks out some fine puss, let me tell you,” said James.

“Philippa is pretty fine isn’t she?” said Cliff. James nodded in full agreement.

Just then, Cecily wandered into the kitchen. Everyone turned to stare at her. “Good morning,” she said. “Why is everybody looking at me?”

“Because we’re so happy that you’re staying!” said Aunt Josephine as she got up to give Cecily a hug.

“Cecily,” said James. “I want to thank you for finding Philippa. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have had the best sex that I’ve ever had in my life last night.”

Cecily frowned.

“I thought that my mum was the best sex that you’ve ever had,” she said.

“Damn, that’s right,” said James. “Well, Philippa is a close second.”

“I hope that someday I can be as good as my mum is in the sack,” Cecily sighed.

“You got the genes for it kiddo,” James told her.

“Oh shut up!” Cliff snapped. He turned to Cecily. “We aren’t going to find out whether or not you’re good in the sack for a long time. A very long time.”

“Why not?” Cecily asked.

“Because,” Cliff said as he scooped the little girl up into his arms. “You’re living under my roof, and you must do as I say, and I say that you’re not jumping in the sack with anybody until your thirty-six. Got that?”

“Yes sir,” Cecily replied. “I can’t jump in the sack with anybody?”

“Nope.”

“Not even Mr. Kirk?” Cecily asked.

James spit out his Bloody Mary and Cliff almost choked on his cigarette.

“Kirk!” Cliff exclaimed. “Why in God’s nation would you want to jump in the sack with that little weasel?”

Cecily blushed.

“Because he’s clean shaven and he smells nice,” she replied.

“Wow,” James gasped. “That’s all it takes.” He smiled at Cecily. “Come on kid,” he said. “Let’s go into the living room and have your new grandfather teach you how to make a Bloody Mary.”

“I’ve never met my new grandfather,” said Cecily nervously.

“Just look for the dude who’s passed out drunk in the corner,” Cliff told her.

James and Cecily left the room, leaving Cliff alone with his aunt.

“Cecily really is such a sweet girl,” Aunt Josephine observed.

“Yeah, except for the wanting to jump in the sack with Kirk thing,” quipped Cliff.

“Why? He’s a nice young man,” Aunt Josephine returned.

“But he’s Kirk,” said Cliff. “Anyway, I’m going to do my best to make sure that Cecily finally has a happy childhood.”

“I know you will,” replied Aunt Josephine as she hugged her nephew. “And your mother and I will help. I just pray to God that Cecily’s mother doesn’t come and ruin everything.”

“She won’t,” said Cliff. “As long as that woman has a cock in her mouth, she could care less about who raises Cecily.”

***

Kirk and Emily watched in disgust and amazement as Lars scarfed down three chicken salad sandwiches, a fruit salad, a bag of potato chips, a bowl of applesauce, two croissants, and a whole container of cottage cheese. For someone who proclaimed not to be hungry, Lars sure as hell ate a lot. Mrs. Hammett was in sheer rapture as she watched Lars eat up every last morsel on his plate.

“See Kirk Lee,” she said. “You need to be more like young Master Lars. He appreciates a good meal.”

“I’m a growing boy,” Lars mumbled with his mouth full. Mrs. Hammett set a beautiful creamy white frosted carrot cake down on the table in front of him.

“Here you go Lars,” she said affectionately.

“Hey!” Kirk squealed. “You can’t let him have your famous carrot cake!”

“It’s famous too?” Emily asked, rolling her eyes. “Just like the pancakes?”

Lars dug into the cake as if he were a vulture festering on the corpse of dead road kill. He gave Kirk a greedy giggle.

“Don’t fret Kirk Lee,” said Mrs. Hammett. “I packed you and Emily both a piece.”

“Packed?” Kirk asked. “For what?”

Mrs. Hammett lifted up her picnic hamper, and set it on the table. “For the picnic lunch that you two are going to go on of course.”

“Picnic lunch?” snorted Lars.

“Kirk and Emily are going on a picnic in the park,” said Mrs. Hammett. “I’ve packed some cold chicken salad, and some fruit, carrot cake, cheese, Belgian chocolate, and even a fine bottle of wine.”

“Jiminy!” Kirk exclaimed. “How come when I wanted to take Ernestine for a picnic all that you gave us were crackers?”

“Emily has a nicer rack,” answered Lars with a mouth stuffed with cake.

“Ernestine?” Emily asked.

“This focking twat that Hamster’s been seeing,” Lars replied. “She’s as dumb as a fence post.”

“She is not Lars!” yelled Kirk.

“What happened to Missy?” asked Emily.

“Missy’s in Denmark,” Lars replied. He shrugged. “What happens in Denmark, stays in Denmark.

“Oh enough about silly Ernestine!” cried Mrs. Hammett. She thrust the picnic hamper in Kirk’s arms. “You and Emily best get going to the park.”

“Whoa, hold the phone right there Mrs. H,’ said Lars as he licked icing off his fingers. “Hamster ain’t going anywhere until he tells me where Cliff’s aunt lives.”

“I’m not sure how to get there,” said Kirk. “Mr. Burton drove us. I just know that it’s up towards the mountains somewhere.”

“Well then look at a map and find out,” snarled Lars. “Cliff’s got to go. He’s fired!”

“Lars,” said Emily. “You’re in the minority here. Kirk and James want Cliff in the band. I’m sure that Cliff wants to be in the band as well. Three out of four members of Metallica want Cliff in.”

“Metallica is not a democracy!” Lars shot in annoyance.

“You’ve got that right,” Kirk said sadly.

“Why don’t I bake you some of my pound cake Lars,” Mrs. Hammett said breaking into the conversation. “You can tell me all about Denmark as Kirk and Emily have their picnic lunch.”

“But I have to fire Cliff,” Lars mumbled.

“Fire Cliff later,” Mrs. Hammett returned as she opened up her recipe box to find her pound cake recipe. “Have fun Kirk Lee.”

“Mama!” Kirk exclaimed. “I’m not going on a picnic.”

Mrs. Hammett physically shoved Kirk and the picnic hamper out the back door of the house.
“Yes you are!” she yelled. “I’m your mother and I say so!” She turned to Emily, and pushed her out the door as well. “Have fun you two! And remember, I threw a corkscrew for the wine in the hamper, it should be under the picnic blanket!”

“I swear,” declared Mrs. Hammett as she watched Kirk and Emily out the window. “Sometimes my son has his head up in the clouds.”

“More like up in his ass,” Lars muttered.”

“Watch your mouth!” Mrs. Hammett scolded. She threw Lars an apron. “Now hurry up and put that on,” she instructed. “You’re going to help me bake a cake…”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Raedoll
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
I'm all caught up, Finally. Wow. I'm glad that so much has happened. Cliff has Cecily now, Lars is going to try and ruin everything, James stole Phillipa, the Burtons are Grandparents and a Parent, Aunt Josephine is a great aunt. Bwahar, I hope everything really does work out. Ashley this story is a trap. You get interested and it just sucks you right in. Cliff is great, I love how you write him. Stoned, drunk, horny idiot with a heart of gold. James is such a little jerk, Lars too. Kirk is a sissy, I think that's what makes him so cute and funny in this piece. I like how you tie in all your characters, it's good. I like your descriptions too, they make me smile. I hope that Cliff's right about Claudia being happy as long as she's got a dick in her mouth, I'd hate for Cliff to love and care about Cecily so much and then have to have her sent back to Denmark. Blargh, I can't wait for more. Keep it up Ashley, it's really good and it's slowly getting resolved. Though, I have a minor anticipation for a twist.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
hahaha just the picture of lars wearing an apron and baking a cake with mrs. hammett, man i'd PAY to see that :lol: it would most likely be a flowery apron, hahah lars wearing black jeans and a black shirt and then a flowery apron over the top. :lol: :lol:
mrs. hammett sounds like a sweetheart, just like kirk. aw.

cecily wanting kirk is the sack. that was hilarious, and then cliff telling her she can't until she's 36, very father-like, cliff will make a great dad.

fantastic! and ashley, you rock way more! :)
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Kristen- Lars's apron definitely has to have flowers on it. :lol: I would pay good money to watch Lars bake a cake too. Actually, I'd pay to see a lot of things that have happened in this story. :)

Rae- Your comment made me smile. I'm thrilled that you're still digging this, and the characters and descriptions. Some characters are harder to write than others. Kirk and James are pretty easy, but Lars and Cliff are harder. Thanks! :)


I'm having such a good, relaxing, time writing this I don't want to stop. :dance




Chapter 67- The Third Letter

James and Philippa were euphorically engaged in intercourse on the sofa in Aunt Josephine’s den. James had to take it back. Philippa was the best sex that he’d had. Claudia was the close second.

“Oh praise mercy!” He exclaimed as he rolled off of Philippa after he had finished.

“Did you like that Jamie?” Philippa asked as she gently gnawed the tip of his ear lobe.

“What do you think?” James moaned. Trails of glistening sweat trickled down his bare chest.

Cliff came through the door whistling N.I.B. by Black Sabbath. He was holding a huge-ass stack of papers. Cecily and her new friend Mandie, trailed in behind him. Cliff didn’t even notice Philippa and James over on the couch.

“That’s an awfully huge stack of papers Mr. Burton,” Mandie babbled. “Is that your homework?”

“Yeah,” Cliff replied. He set the stack of papers down on the coffee table. “It’s going to take the whole fucking day. But it’s worth it for Cecily.”

“For me?” Cecily asked. “What do those papers have to do with me?”

“These my dear, are the papers that I have to fill out and file with the state in order to keep you,” Cliff explained. “I got them from Aunt Josephine’s lawyer this afternoon. It’s the first step in a very long fucked up process that I have to go through in order to become your legal guardian.”

The papers were endless. They went on and on and on, mostly about stupid shit.

“Thank you so much Cliff,” said Cecily. She threw her arms around his legs. “If you need me to show the court people my Father of the Year Essay, I’ll do it. It might help. I didn’t know that you had to go through a bunch of paperwork just to keep me. I’m sorry. Let me know what I can do to help.”

“Let’s just say it would have been much easier if I had just banged your mother five years ago,” replied Cliff. “And much more fun.”

“Cecily,” Mandie piped up, as she pointed towards Philippa and James. “Who are those two? And what are they doing?”

“That’s Mr. James and Miss Philpppa,” Cecily explained. “Miss Philippa used to date my Dad, I mean Cliff. But she doesn’t like him anymore.”

“She sure seems to like Mr. James,” Mandie observed.

Cliff whirled around and caught site of the naked James and Philippa. Fortunately, they were under a blanket.

“What the fuck are you two still doing here?” Cliff demanded. “We’ve already rehearsed today. Go home!”

“Remember Cliffy?” said James. “Aunt Josephine said that I could stay for as long as I’d like.”

“Well then get a room,” Cliff scoffed. “Lord knows we have enough of them. Now get out of here!”

“I would, but you see I’m not wearing any uh, uh, well you know,” said James with a devilish grin. “Unless you want to give Cecily and her little friend a treat.”

“No James I do not,” Cliff sighed. He turned to the two little girls. “Cecily,” he said. “Why don’t you take Mandie, and go outside and do some little girl shit. Okay?”

“Because doing little girl shit is boring,” replied Cecily.

“Don’t say shit,” Cliff scolded sternly. “You’re not giving out cheap hand jobs on the street.”

“I’m sorry,” Cecily apologized, looking down at her shoes.

“Why don’t you go outside and educate Mandie about the Misfits,” Cliff suggested.

“But we’d much rather hang out with you Mr. Burton,” Mandie said. “I’ve never hung out with anyone who smokes pot before.”

“It’s overrated, trust me,” Cliff snapped. “Now out! Both of you! Shoo!” He shooed the two girls out of the room. Cecily and Mandie ran laughing and shrieking down the hallway. Cliff went back into the den and shook his head. “Crazy girls,” he muttered.

“That Mandie, she’s a spitfire,” said James as he got up off of the couch, happily exposing himself for Philippa and Cliff and God to see. “She’s a cute a little hussy. Little blonde ringlets, blue eyes. Give her ten years. She’ll have a nice ass on her.” He purred.

“I’m glad that you’re enjoying sizing up Cecily’s friends,” Cliff retorted. His eyes went wide, and fixed upon Philippa who was also naked, as she got up off of the couch. Damn, did it hurt seeing his ex woman with James. Now he knew how Lars felt seeing James gallivanting around with Claudia all of the time.

“Could you be a little more obvious about staring Cliff?” Philippa snapped as she hunted around the room for her clothes.

Cliff turned red, and went back to his legal papers.

“Cliff’s adopting Cecily,” James told her as he helped her put on her bra.

“Oh good,” Philippa sarcastically replied. “Then he won’t have to lie when he sends her out to find him chicks since he’s too pathetic to find them himself.”

“Fuck you Philippa!” Cliff shot as he lit a cigarette.

“Don’t you only wish,” Philippa snapped. She turned to James and gave him a kiss. “Bye General,” she said, and she flounced out of the room without even giving Cliff a second glance.

“General?” Cliff repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“Hey, what can I say,” James sighed as he zipped up the fly of his tight-as-fuck jeans. “The bed is my battlefield, and I’m in full command, so I’m the General.” He pointed to his dick. “And this is my cannon.”

“More like BB gun,” Cliff quipped. He plopped down on the floor in between the coffee table and sofa, using the sofa as a back rest, and sighed. “These fucking papers are going to take me forever,” he groaned as he picked up a pen and began to fill out one of them.

“I could help you,” offered James as he plopped down next to him. “How many alcoholic beverages do you consume in one week?” he read. “Fuck, I don’t even think that it’s humanly countable. You had at least four bloody Marys at breakfast, and then we downed a whole case of beer while we were shedding, and then you were into that bottle of Stoli of your Dad’s.”

“This is terrible!” Cliff wailed as he threw down his pen. “They’re never going to let me keep Cecily.”

“Well you don’t tell them that you drank all of that shit!” James exclaimed. “Just put down two for the week. That sounds normal.”

“But it’s lying,” Cliff whined.

“Do you want to keep Cecily, or do you want her to have to go back to live with Wonder Cunt?” James asked.

Cliff had to smile at silly old James. “You do make a point. I am doing what’s best for Cecily.”

“Damn right you are,” nodded James. He read the next question. “Are you a smoker?”

“Nope,” Cliff wrote as he took a drag on his cigarette. “Damn, this is brutal. They want me to submit a written essay written by myself on parenthood.”

“Kirk will write it for you,” James replied.

“Good thinking James,” Cliff said with a nod. “Kirk writes the best essays.” He silently read on through the paperwork. “Oh shit,” he murmured as he read the next part. The color drained from his face.

“What’s wrong man?” asked James.

“It says that I need three letters of recommendation,” Cliff read. “They must state why I would make a good parent. Only one can be from a friend or family member. The other two must be from non relations.”

“Your Aunt Josephine or your Mom would surely write one,” said James. “I could write one. I’m your friend, but I’m also technically your boss.”

“You’d do that for me?” Cliff asked.

“Fuck yeah dude,” James nodded, shaking his blonde curls up and down. “I just fucking flew all over half of the world to get you back in the band. Of course I’d write a letter for you.”

“Thanks James,” said Cliff. “I really appreciate it. You can stay at my Aunt’s house for as long as you’d like.”

“Good, because I like to screw in her hot tub,” James replied. “Who are you going to get to write the third?”

“I have no fucking idea,” Cliff admitted. “What about Flemming?”

“He ain’t too happy with Metallica’s latest spending habits,” James answered. “Pick someone else.”

Cliff sighed and lit another cigarette. “This would have been so fucking easy if Lars wasn’t being such a dip shit,” he said. “Lars is my boss too. He could have written the third letter.”

“I can just see it now,” said James. “I think that Cliff should be Cecily’s guardian because my Dad is focking Torben Ulrich,” he mimicked in a bad Danish accent. “In case you haven’t noticed, Lars isn’t exactly in your fan club right now. He’ll never do. Kirk writes well, but he’s just a friend, so he won’t qualify.”

“Maybe we could give Lars a call in Denmark,” said Cliff. “Maybe he’s calmed down. He’s surely missing us by now. Maybe he would take heart, and write me the letter.”

“I don’t know Cliff,” said James. “I don’t even know how he’s going to take having you back in the band, let alone writing you a letter of recommendation. But I’m afraid that he’s your only hope. He has to write it, or else you won’t be able to keep Cecily.”

Cliff was silent as he smoked the rest of his cigarette. Lars Ulrich was not the person that he had wanted to put Cecily’s fate in the hands of. He could hear Cecily and Mandie jabbering outside, their voices drifting in through the open window. Just hearing her talk made him love her even more.

“Glen Danzig is a funny name,” said Mandie.

“Yeah, but he’s the voice of the Misfits,” Cecily told her.

“If you say so Cess,” Mandie replied. “You know, I think that Mr. James is devastatingly handsome.”

“James?” Cecily asked. “Ewwwwww. Gross! You have to meet my friend Mr. Kirk. Now he’s good looking, and dashing like a prince.”

“Mandie has good taste,” James declared. “Much better than Cecily’s.”

“Yeah, I’ve got to do something about the Kirk thing,” Cliff replied. “But I have to make sure that I can keep her first. We’ve just got to find someone else. I can’t trust Lars to write that letter, and I can’t let Cecily down.”

“You can’t let yourself down either,” said James. “You know very well that you just couldn’t live without her.”

“I could to!” Cliff shot. “Easily!”

“Burton, she has you whipped,” James returned. “Come on, you can admit it at least to me. You can’t live without the little fucker.”

Cliff sighed and lit yet another cigarette. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I can’t…”



Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Raedoll
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
Cliff is such a terrible person. I think he needs to just clean up and quit drinking on his own instead of lying about it, and write an essay on parenting himself. Cliff you're cranking out another tapestry of lies, I don't care of the colors look pretty together you're relapsing! So what if it's good for Cecily, it's still Lying. Scoot James out of there and write everything in yourself! Except for the letters. Bwarhrh! Ashleeeey. You're making Cliff relapse, it's driving me nuts. I have a friend named Mandie, and your itty Mandie reminds me a little bit of her. It's funneh. But yes I'm still here and digging your stuff. Can't wait for more!
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Rae- James is a bad influence on Cliff isn't he?? :) Ah well, he's going to have more to worry about than James because Lars is out lurking about. :)

This chapter is weird. I was like drunk when I wrote it. bleh.
and I had a blast fucking around with James and Cliff's penmanship. I'm easily amused. :lol:




Chapter 68- Picnics and Profound Letters


“Your mother is so sweet Kirk,” said Emily as she took a bite of carrot cake. “Not to mention a very good baker.”

“All of her baked goods are famous,” Kirk boasted proudly. “She made a lemon icebox cake that even won first prize at the San Francisco Fair this past summer.”

He and Emily were sitting on a picnic blanket in a shady corner at Golden Gate Park, and even though they weren’t very hungry, they were rather enjoying Mrs. Hammett’s fabulous picnic lunch.

“Her dream was always to open up her own bakery,” said Kirk as he took a sip of wine. “Just like Mrs. Chelton. But sadly, my Dad never would let her. He didn’t like the idea of his wife working outside the home. He said that she belonged baking in her own kitchen.”

“I’m sorry Kirk,” said Emily, her eyes filled with understanding.

“I know,” Kirk sighed. “Someday, if Metallica ever goes on to make lots of money, I’m going to buy my mom her very own bakery shop, with a convection oven and everything. But who knows? At the rate we’re going there is no Metallica, especially if Lars fires Cliff again. I don’t want to play in a band with Yann. He sucks.”

“I think that maybe we should go to Cliff’s aunt’s house and warn him,” said Emily. “Cliff and James aren’t even aware that Lars is in California. They think that he’s off thumping his dummy in Denmark. James especially, should know that he’s around. Maybe he can talk some sense into him.”

“I don’t think James even has much sense to talk into anyone,” Kirk replied glumly. “Plus, I’m not exactly sure how to get to Cliff’s house.”

“We could always call him,” Emily suggested. “You have his aunt’s phone number?”

Kirk nodded as he popped a chocolate into his mouth. “There’s a gas station up the street. We can use the payphone there.”

“I hope your mom can keep Lars entertained by baking cakes for the afternoon,” said Emily. “We have to get to Cliff first, before Lars comes in and wrecks everything.”

The two packed up their picnic food and stuffed it into the hamper. Emily was practically running back to the car, and Kirk had a hard time keeping up with her. Kirk placed the hamper in the trunk of his car.

“Hurry Kirk!” Emily yelled as she slid into the front seat.

“For not liking Cliff, you seem awfully concerned with whether or not he’s in the band,” Kirk replied as he got into the driver’s seat.

“I never said that I didn’t like Cliff,” retorted Emily.

“But you were angry when I told his parents that you were his girlfriend,” Kirk pointed out.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” shot Emily. “Cliff hates me. He didn’t even bother to say goodbye to me when he left Denmark, and he didn’t even bother to say hello to me when we reunited in San Francisco. Instead, I had to listen to him bumble about Philippa’s boobs.”

“They were awfully nice though,” Kirk said with a sigh.

“Well I’m sorry that my puppies just aren’t as nice,” Emily quipped as she looked out the car window.

“I don’t think that Cliff hates you,” Kirk went on. “You were the only person that he’d let into his room last night. He was even asking for you.”

“He was wasted, and wanted someone to piss and moan to,” Emily replied. “The reason that I want him back in Metallica so much is for Cecily. I want Cecily to be able to stay with Cliff. I really hope that he chooses to keep her. She adores him, and she looks up to him. If Cliff doesn’t have a band to play with, he won’t be able to afford to keep her.”

“I don’t know,” Kirk sighed as he turned into the gas station parking lot. “I’d be really surprised if Cliff could even pull off raising a child. I mean after all, he’s Cliff. The man can barely take care of himself. Honestly, I have to make sure that he eats balanced meals, and doesn’t skip breakfast. One time, I even came into the hotel room and saved him from choking to death on his own vomit. He can’t figure out how to take care of Cecily.”

“I think that you’re underestimating him,” Emily retorted as she got out of the car. “So far, he’s doing beautifully with her upbringing. He’s put Cecily in a good school. She wants to be the best reader in her class just to impress him, he’s teaching her music, she has a little friend now. She’s no longer coughing and dying of the fever, he makes sure that she says her prayers every night, she seems very happy, and most of all, he keeps her well dressed.”

“That is true,” Kirk agreed. “I guess he can act mature when he wants to, which is sure more than I can say for James.”

“You got that right,” Emily muttered.

“I thought that you had a thing for James?” Kirk asked surprised. Emily turned scarlet.

“I never had a thing for James!” she declared. “I was just leading him on to make, oh never mind!”

“To make what?” Kirk demanded. “Make someone jealous?”

“That is none of your business!” Emily retorted huffily. “And it didn’t do a damn bit of good. He just jumped right on top of that Philppa anyway. Now let’s go inside so that we can call Cliff before Lars fires him.”

Kirk opened up the gas station door. “Ladies first,” he said as he held the door for her. “If I call Cliff, will you buy me a diet coke?”

***
Cliff glumly looked down at the never ending arsenal of papers that loomed before him. James was off diligently working on composing his letter of recommendation. Cliff didn’t want to bother him for more help, but the questions were getting impossible. Cliff couldn’t help it. His eyes began to water with tears as he stared down at the next question that he had to answer. The tears poured down splattering the papers, and smudging what he had already written with his pen.

How are you and the child alike? he read.

Cliff wasn’t quite sure how to answer. He and Cecily were nothing alike, but for some odd reason, they seemed to enjoy each other’s company. Unfortunately, that wasn't answering the question. Cecily didn’t drink beer or smoke pot, at least not yet she didn’t. The only thing that he could pathetically scribble down was

Cecily and me are alike because we both like the Misifts, and we think that Geezer Butler is an absolute bad-ass bass god.

It was a lame ass answer, but the only one that he had. “Ugh!” he groaned as he threw down his pen.

“You got to take a shit Burton?” James asked from where he was working on his letter.

“Must you be so crude James?” Cliff snapped. “I can’t do this! I have nothing to write! Cecily and I aren’t at all alike!”

“Yeah you are,” said James. “If you had been born without a dick, you’d be just like Cecily.”

“I most certainly would not!” Cliff retorted. “That girl is totally fucked up.”

“And so are you,” James replied. “You two are just like two peas in a pod. You’re always stoned, and she always acts stoned.”

“Yeah, let me put that down on my questionnaire for social services,” Cliff quipped. He sighed. “My mother was right. Cecily is too good for me, and she deserves better.”

“Claudia is not better than you are Cliff,” said James. “She’s a lousy mother.”

“Not Claudia,” Cliff sighed as he took out a cigarette. “She needs another family. She needs a family with two parents, a mom and a dad who would move the world for her, and adore her. She needs a dog, a white picket fence, bullshit like that. Social Services is never going to give me guardianship.”

“Yes they will,” said James as he gave Cliff’s arm a squeeze. “So she won’t have two parents that would move to the world for her and adore her, but at least she will have one: she’ll have you. Look at me, I don’t have anybody. If Cecily has you that makes her a very lucky girl.”

“I just hope that Social Services sees it that way,” Cliff sighed wistfully.

“They will after they read the glowing recommendation that I’ve composed for you,” said James. “You want to read my rough draft?”

“Oh yes,” Cliff nodded feeling brighter. He really needed his ass kissed right now. He needed to hear about how responsible he was. He eagerly took the letter. James had written it in his finest penmanship. Penmanship even nicer than Kirk’s.

To Whom it May Concern,

My bassist Cliff is a worthy candidate to be Cecily’s guardian because he’s a bad-ass mother-fucker on the bass guitar. He can piss and shred all over the fucking thing for hours everyday. Everybody loves and adores his bass solos. Plus, he can head bang like a piece of electromagnetic shit on acid.
Nobody fucks or messes with Cliff, because if you do, he’ll come and kick your ass. If any one ever laid a hand on Cecily, he’d kick their sorry asses all the way down to the fiery pits of hell. I also owe Cliff my life. One day he rescued me from drowning in a toilet filled with my own puke. I hope that someday, I can be just like Cliff.

My Sincerest Regards,

James A. Hetfield


“What do you think?” James asked as Cliff set the letter down. “Isn’t wonderful? Aren’t you proud?”

“It’s alright,” Cliff said glumly.

James could not hide the disappointment that crossed his face. He felt that his letter had been the most profound thing ever written since War and Peace, yet it wasn’t good enough for Cliff Burton.

“Just alright?” James asked, sounding hurt.

Cliff started to play with his cigarette lighter, avoiding having to look at James. “It’s nice I guess,” he mumbled. “If, if-”

“If what?” demanded James.

“It’s nice if it were a letter of recommendation for a thrash metal band,” said Cliff. “But there’s no way that anyone in their right mind is going to give me a child after reading it!”

“Why ever not?” shot James, insulted.

Cliff just burst into tears. “I’ve done nothing to better myself!” he moaned. "I'm lousy for Cecily!" He began to wipe his nose on the sleeve of James’s Motorhead shirt.

“Damn Burton,” James muttered sulkily. “You’re getting as weepy as the Ham Man.”

Just then, Aunt Josephine poked her head into the room. “Boys,” she said. “Kirk is on the phone. He says he has some urgent news for you. Something about Lars being back in San Francisco, and he’s not happy...”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Raedoll
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
AGH. Lars is going to ruin everything, and Emily Liiiiii-iiiiikes Cliff, haha! Kirk is picking up on everything, even though he still wants a diet coke. Damn the ham-man and his cokes! lol. James is trying at least with the letter writing, but he's right about Cliff and Cecily. They're great for eachother and they're like two little peas in a pod. I hope Cliff can get back into Metallica and make enough money to support Cecily, she'd be so happy for him. Emily still has a thing for Cliff which is awesome, even though she's spending so much time with Kirk. I think it's cute how Cliff's so frustrated with everything but he's still going through with it for Cecily...he really loves her and cares about her. If Social Services don't understand that, they're idiots. I want to hear the court's outcome!!!
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
double update. YAY!

Quote:
 
“I can just see it now,” said James. “I think that Cliff should be Cecily’s guardian because my Dad is focking Torben Ulrich,” he mimicked in a bad Danish accent.

that was brilliant!! literally made me laugh out loud. :lol:

james writing one of letters for cliff was sweet, and i loved the letter itself. i can just see james writing that in the most beautiful penmanship. haha good one james. :lol:

cliff my dear, you must stop lying. oh well its all good for the drama. :tu: :)
mandie sounds like a little sweet heart. ha. those girls and their love for older men. :lol:

fantastic!

Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
I'm sorry if this chapter sucks. The "Lars" half I wrote last night so I was still drunk. The "Cliff" half I was sober. :lol: The drunk half isn't nearly as funny when you haven't been drinkin. ARG.

Anyway, I got some good ideas cooking up in my fucked up little mind for this story, and I can't wait to get cracking with them. Unfortnately, this chapter has nothing to do with them. It's pretty much just fluff and a "bullshit" chapter, and I'm sorry. But I promise, I got some ideas.



Chapter 69- Cakes and Cussing


Lars Ulrich had stirred bowls of cake batter until his arms ached so much that he felt like he’d never play the drums again. He rubbed his throbbing right arm, and whimpered in pain. Mrs. Hammett wasn’t just baking one measly pound cake. She wound up baking three pound cakes, two funnel cakes, and a peach cobbler, all for some church bazaar thing. Lars had had to stir the cake batter for every one of those cakes.
“You still have that bowl of eggs to beat,” Mrs. Hammett demanded as she worked on frosting one of her funnel cakes.

“I don’t see why you can’t use a box mix?” Lars moaned as he shuffled over to the bowl of egg yolks.

“Why Lars!” Mrs. Hammett gasped. “You do not bake famous and prize winning cakes by using a mix. We Hammett’s have been baking cakes from scratch since the sixteenth century.”

“And you’re stuck in the sixteenth century,” Lars scoffed. This cake nonsense was wasting his whole, entire, focking day. He should be off firing Cliff, and getting James and Kirk back to Denmark so that they could finish their album. Not pussy-footing around with Mrs. Hammett and her baked goods.

Mrs. Hammett waved her rolling pin at Lars. “Don’t you get smart with me young man!” she demanded. “My Kirk Lee doesn’t talk saucy with me, and neither will you!”

Lars went back to beating the eggs but his arm hurt so bad that he just couldn’t take it anymore. He clutched his arm, whimpering in agony. “Oh the pain!” he moaned. “It focking hurts!”

“There, there,” said Mrs. Hammett. She carefully set Lars down in one of the chairs. “Let me get some ice for you.” She fixed Lars an ice pack for his arm. “I guess that we can take a break,” she said. “After our break we can start another cake for Kirk Lee and his new girlfriend.”

“Kirk Lee doesn’t need anymore focking cake!” Lars shot as he held the ice on his arm. “I have no use for a fat guitarist. And he doesn’t have a new girlfriend either. Emily is a focking shrew, and nobody in the band can stand her.”

“Young Master James and my little Kirk Lee seem to fancy her,” Mrs. Hammett replied. “I’ll put on the tea kettle for us.”

“No!” Lars cried. “I really must get going. I have a lot to do.”

“Buffalo Droppings!” squealed Mrs. Hammett. “You can’t go driving all over providence with that arm the way that it is. You’ll stay right here and have a cup of tea with me.” She reached over to the bookcase, and took out a photo album. “While we’re having our tea, we can look at pictures of Kirk Lee’s First Communion.”

Lars put his head down on the table and let out a pathetic moan.

“Doesn’t he look adorable in that suit?” Mrs. Hammett asked. “He’s hasn’t worn a suit since. See that rosary he’s holding? It’s a Hammett family heirloom.”
Lars couldn’t help but show a little interest. After all, it was pretty funny seeing little eight-year-old Kirk dressed in a suit holding his rosary and prayer book. “No shit,” he muttered as he looked at the pictures. I’m never going to let Hamster live this down! That’s so focking un-metal. He was starting to get a brilliant idea.

“Mrs. H,” Lars began. “May I keep one of these photos of Kirk Lee’s First Communion?”

Mrs. Hammett looked confused.

“Why on earth do you want one of my son’s Communion photos?” she asked.

“Because he looks so sweet and innocent dressed in his little suit,” Lars replied. “He’s my friend.”

“Very well,” sighed Mrs. Hammett as she selected a photo of Kirk kneeling at the church’s St. Benedict altar. “Do you want me to get you a frame for it?”

“That won’t be necessary Mrs. H,” Lars replied as he carefully tucked the photo away in his pocket. Now if Hamster gave him any bullshit about not telling him where Cliff’s aunt lived, he had the perfect weapon…

***

“So what did Kirk have to say?” Cliff asked as James came back into the den. “Am I out of the band?”

“In Lars’s eyes you are, but not in mine,” said James. “Fuck him. Lars doesn’t know where your Aunt lives and I say that you’re in the band, so you’re safe. I mean hell, we write most of the songs anyway, so if Lars doesn’t come around, we can take Kirk and just find another drummer.”

“Why are you being so kind to me James?” Cliff asked. “Is it just because of my Aunt’s hot tub?”

“That’s most of it,” admitted James. “I like her big screen TV and swimming pool too, plus your Dad makes good drinks. Anyway, Lars is staying at the Metallimansion, and I really don’t feel like seeing the sack of shit, so is it alright if I stay here for awhile?”

“Of course James,” Cliff replied. “I owe you everything.”

“Philippa is coming over tonight for dinner,” James warned. “That’s not going to bother you, is it?”

“I’m over Philippa,” Cliff said. “I blew it with her because of my own stupidity. I’m pretty much done with chicks anyway. I have to focus my attention on Cecily.”

“Cecily is a chick magnet,” James pointed out. “You could score all kinds of puss by strutting her about.”

“Using a kid to bag chicks isn’t going to impress Social Services,” Cliff replied. “Plus, I can’t be off rutting around until all hours of the night with a chick if I have a little girl to take care of. I have to help Cecily with her homework and shit.”

“Boy, it would suck to be you Cliff,” James muttered. “I couldn’t even think of giving up chicks. The very thought makes my dick shrink up like a raisin.”

“It doesn’t have very far to shrink,” Cliff returned.

“Very funny,” James spat. “Anyway, I’m going to go shower and shave, since Cecily insists that women like men that are clean shaven and smell nice.”

“Yeah, but she also likes Kirk,” Cliff pointed out. “I shaved and even deep conditioned my hair for Philippa and it didn’t work.” He muttered under his breath as James shuffled out of the room. “Fuck her. I don’t care about silly Philippa anyway. James can have her.”

Just then, Cecily came running into the room. She ran straight to Cliff and threw her arms around him. “Hiya Cliff!” she greeted. “Mandie and I just listened to the entire stack of Black Sabbath records that you gave me.”

“What’d you think Cess?” Cliff asked.

“Do fairies really wear boots?” asked Cecily.

“Sometimes they do,” Cliff laughed. “But hopefully, you’ll never see one that does.”

“Why not?” Cecily asked.

“Never mind, bad joke,” Cliff sighed. He caught sight of James walking by the door, wearing nothing but a towel tied around his waist, and whistling as he hooched himself up for Philippa. Cliff couldn’t help but feel a little jealous and very self pitiful. He was back to feeling that he would never get laid again.

“What’s wrong Cliff?” Cecily asked. “Why do you seem so sad?”

“Sometimes I just feel sort of lonely,” Cliff explained.

“But I’m here now,” said Cecily as she sat down on the floor next to him. “I’ll keep you company. Want to hear about Mandie’s new pet guinea pig?”

“God no,” Cliff replied. “And it’s a different kind of company that I’m missing.”

“Like getting laid company?” asked Cecily.

“You’re a very smart girl,” said Cliff nodding in approval.

“Maybe Mr. James and Miss Philippa will invite you into the hot tub with them tonight?” Cecily suggested.

“You know Cecily,” said Cliff as he raised an eyebrow. “You’re also a very naughty girl.”

He pulled Cecily into his lap. Come to think of it, he really didn’t feel like sitting through another dinner with James, Aunt Josephine, his parents, and Philippa and her perky breasts. It would be weird to have him and Cecily there with Philippa around, and since he was now indebted to James, he couldn’t very well tell James and his new squeeze to take a hike.

“How about I take you out for dinner tonight just you and me?” Cliff asked Cecily.

“Like at a restaurant?” Cecily asked. “I’ve never been to a restaurant before.”

“Of come on Cess!” Cliff retorted. “Don’t be silly. Of course you have.”

Cecily shook her head. “Sometimes Mummy would bring me back something from the hotel’s restaurant, but I was never allowed to go in there to eat. My Mummy got to go there a lot with her boyfriends, but they never let me go with them.”

“Well I’m letting you go with me,” said Cliff. “Aren’t I more fun anyway? I’ll take you to one of my favorite places where my parents used to take me. But you better go wash your hands first.”

“I can’t wait!” Cecily cried as she jumped up. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small purple stone. “Mandie gave me this,” said Cecily. “She said that it’s a friendship stone. You’re supposed to pass it on to a special and dear friend.” She placed it in Cliff’s hand.

“You’re my best friend, so I’m giving it to you!” She said as she gave him another quick hug, and then bolted out of the room to go wash her hands.

Cliff looked at the stone in his hand. He had never been given a friendship stone before. He tucked it safely away in his pocket.

“My stars!” exclaimed Aunt Josephine as she came into the room. “That kid is practically bouncing off of the walls. You do make her happy Cliff.”

“At least I make someone happy,” Cliff quipped pathetically as he lit a cigarette. “I’m not going to be able to keep her.”

“Don’t talk like an ass!” scolded Aunt Josephine. “Of course you are.”

“I only have two people to write letters of recommendation for me,” Cliff said glumly. “Lars would never do it. I don’t know why Cecily can’t just go to the courts and tell them that she wants to stay with me.”

“Because that’s not the way that the government works,” sighed Aunt Josephine.

“Oh don’t get me started on the government,” Cliff snarled.

“You’re right. I don’t want to hear one of your four hours long political tirades,” Aunt Josephine laughed. “You need to get washed up for dinner as well.”

“Actually, I’m taking Cecily out for dinner,” said Cliff. “We’re going to get out of here for a little while.”

“Your parents will be so disappointed,” said Aunt Josephine. “Tonight you’re taking Cecily out, last night you were both off skulking in your rooms. They want to see you two, and get to know Cecily.”

“Well fuck them,” Cliff shot.

“Kirk and Emily are coming over too,” said Aunt Josephine. “I invited Kirk when I had him on the phone.”

“Kirk and Emily?” Cliff repeated as he blew out a trail of smoke.

“Kirk said that he and Emily probably wouldn’t eat very much,” Aunt Josephine reported. “I guess they went out for a picnic lunch in the park together.”

“That’s cozy,” Cliff quipped bitterly. Damn, Emily gets around. First James, now Kirk. I could have had her too, if I hadn’t acted like a drunk, pathetic, whiny, loser last night.

“Don’t you think that they make a cute couple?” Aunt Josephine asked.

“Fucking adorable,” Cliff said glumly. “Maybe they too can go out and fuck in the hot tub.”

“Who’s going to go out and fuck in the hot tub?” Cecily asked, coming into the room, with Mrs. Burton following her. Cecily was all washed up, and Mrs. Burton had neatly brushed her hair, and put two pink barrettes in it.

“Kirk and Emily,” Cliff replied, Cecily’s choice of vocabulary flying right over his head.

“But Cliff, Emily is supposed to be fucking you in the hot tub,” said Cecily.

Cliff grounded out his cigarette and looked at her. “I keep telling you that you can’t say fuck until you’re eighteen! Damn it kid! You better not be saying that shit at school!”

“It might help Cliff, if you cut back on the cuss words a bit,” Mrs. Burton suggested.

Cliff just rolled his eyes at his mother, mothers could be so silly sometimes, and turned his attention back to Cecily.

“Emily and me fucking in the hot tub,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Just where in the Sam hell would you get an idea like that anyway?”

“It’s obvious Cliff,” said Cecily. “Everyone can see that you two are still madly and ever so tragically in love, just like two star crossed strangers in the night. You spend every night pining away for her heart like a wilting swallow -”

“Okay Cess, that’s quite enough,” Cliff interrupted blushing, as he put his hand over Cecily’s mouth. “The shit that comes out of your mouth sometimes!” he grunted as he ushered her out the front door.

“I don’t know Josephine,” Mrs. Burton sighed as she watched them leave. “Sometimes I could just swear that he’s giving that poor little girl pot…”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
this didn't suck at all. it was good :) and i'm very glad that you have alot of ideas, i cant wait to read what happens!

cliff taking cecily out for dinner is sweet, and the poor girl has never been to a resturant before so that makes it even sweeter.
and that lars, scheming again. i wonder what is going to happen when he finally goes out to aunt josephines.

i read the myspace bulliten that harptallica is going on tour. congratulations and hope that goes well for you. :) and if you want, you can always come tour over here in australia. :wink :lol:

andddd i was thinking today, wondering how your dog was going after the surgery she had. lol
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Kristen- I'm not even sure what Lars is scheming for myself. :) Until I re-read it, I forgot about that part. :lol:


Chapter 70- Cecily in Trouble


For the next few days Cliff, Cecily, and even James, who had latched onto living at Aunt Josephine’s villa like a horny school boy on a titty dancer, settled down into a relaxed, efficient, and happy routine. Everything was going by so smoothly. If that didn’t convince Social Services that he was right for Cecily, then Cliff was certain that nothing ever would.

Every morning Cliff would roll his ass out of bed to take Cecily to school. He wouldn’t be showered, and he’d barely be dressed, but at least he got her dressed, and her hair neatly braided (even if they were two uneven braids) and he always got her there on time every morning.

Since Cliff usually couldn’t fall back to sleep after dropping Cecily off, he started to spend his mornings doing some individual bass practice. By the time James and Kirk came around to rehearse, which was never before noon, Cliff was already warmed up and ready to go. Barnabas would always pick Cecily up at school, so that Cliff could have more time to rehearse with Metallica minus Lars. By the end of the fourth day of this schedule, Cliff was noticing a vast improvement in his bass playing.

The boys rehearsed in Aunt Josephine’s gigantic sunroom. It had a wall that was all windows, and a huge soaring two-story cathedral ceiling, which gave it bad-ass acoustics. It was much more pleasant practicing in Aunt Josephine’s sunroom, than in James’s moldy garage. Plus, Brunhilda always kept them well endowed with fresh, cold, beer and those little cheese puff ball things in the red bag.

Philippa was coming over nearly every evening to see James. Usually she would spend the night.

“Why can’t you ever go over to her place?” Cliff asked once he had found out that she was coming over for the third fucking day in a row.

“Because she doesn’t have the pool and the hot tub,” replied James. “Or a live in cook to make dinner.”

After dinner, Philippa and James would go mung all over each other, usually in the pool or in the hot tub. Sometimes Cliff and Cecily would spy on them. One evening, they dropped balloons filled with beer on top of them from the balcony. But for the most part, Cliff’s evenings were spent helping Cecily with her reading. She was starting to become a very fast reader, and she began to blow through library books as fast as James could polish off a case of beer.

No, Cliff wasn’t getting laid, but at least he was starting to feel better about himself. Since he was getting up earlier, he had more practice time, and he felt good about helping Cecily learn how to read and write.

One sunny late afternoon, Kirk, James, and Cliff were rehearsing in the sunroom. They were working on polishing up The Thing That Should Not Be. Cecily sat just outside the door, reading one of her books. She was waiting for them to take a break. Cliff always yelled at her if she came in and interrupted them, even if it was just to show him the star she had earned in school from reading that day. They played the same two measures over and over as Cliff’s metronome clucked away. Cecily didn’t know how to break it to them, but they weren’t with the metronome at all. Finally, James threw his guitar down.

“Burton!” he bellowed. “Shut that infernal thing off!” He pointed to the metronome.

“But we need it,” Cliff argued.

“It’s not like we’re with the god damn thing!” James sneered.

“We were to,” Cliff retorted.

“No we weren’t actually,” said Kirk. “I think we’re rushing.”

“But we don’t have a drummer to keep time for us,” said Cliff.

“What else is new?” hissed James. “Like Lars ever kept good time. Oh well,” he shrugged. “I think we need a beer break! And I have to take a piss.”

“The Thing That Should Not Be is a James that needs to pee!” Kirk exclaimed laughing.

“That’s poetry Kirk,” James muttered as he popped open a beer. “Remind me not to let you write any of the lyrics on this album.” And he unzipped his fly, and flounced off to the bathroom, taking his beer with him.

Cliff noticed Cecily hovering outside the door. He went over to her, and knelt down on the floor. “How’s my favorite person in the whole entire world?” he asked as he gave her a hug.

“I thought that Geezer Butler was your favorite person,” Cecily returned.

“Ole Geezer might be my favorite bassist, but he doesn’t make me laugh like you do,” Cliff replied. “How’d you do on that spelling test that I helped you study for last night?”

“I missed one,” Cecily sighed as she pulled out her corrected test. I missed the word “there.” Do you hate me?”

“Of course not,” Cliff replied as he looked over her test she had spelled it “thare,” which he found kind of amusing. “One word is a fuck load better than how I did on my first spelling test. We’ll go over that word after dinner. It’s a good thing that you didn’t get them all correct, because then you’d be perfect, and if you were perfect, I’d have to take you out in the backyard and shoot you.”

“But don’t you want me to be perfect?” Cecily asked.

“I just want you to be the best that you can possibly be,” Cliff replied as he took out a cigarette. “I sure as hell ain’t perfect.”

“To me you are!” Cecily returned.

“You’re really sweet Cess,” Cliff replied. “I’m going to go to the kitchen to get a beer. You want anything?”

Cecily shook her head. She needed Cliff to be out of the room for a few minutes. She needed to talk to Kirk. As soon as Cliff had left the room, Cecily made her way over to Kirk, who was fucking around with his amp.

“Mr. Kirk,” said Cecily. “I need your help.”

“Have you come for another whistling lesson?” Kirk asked. “I thought that you had a loose tooth.”

“It’s not about whistling,” answered Cecily. “I need helping writing a letter, and you always write so well.”

“You’re right, I do,” Kirk agreed. He squatted down so that he was Cecily’s height. “What kind of letter is it Sweetie?”

“It’s sort of like a Valentine I guess,” said Cecily as she took a book out of her backpack. “I have this book that I got from the school library, it might help.”

Kirk glanced at Cecily’s book. How to Put Your Heart on Paper, the art of writing a love letter, he read.

“Cecily,” he said. “Aren’t you a little young to be writing love letters?”

“That’s why I need your help,” said Cecily. “You can help me with the long words.”

“You better ask Cliff first,” Kirk said as he flipped through the book. “From what he tells me, you won’t be getting laid until you’re thirty-six, and he won’t let you date until you’re thirty-one. I don’t think he’s going to be too down with me helping you write love letters to your kindergarten crushes.”

“I don’t have any kindergarten crushes!” Cecily replied, her face turning red. “The boys in my class are disgusting! Yuck! And Mandie and I prefer the company of older men.”

“Don’t be telling Cliff shit like that, or else he won’t let you date until you’re fifty,” Kirk replied. “Just who is this letter going to be going to?”

“Miss Emily,” Cecily answered.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” said Kirk. “But the letter that you want to write is a thank you letter, not a love letter.”

“No,” said Cecily. “I’m certain that it’s a love letter, and it’s not going to be signed from me.”

“And just who is it going to be signed from?” Kirk asked, amused. Kids were so weird. Cecily smiled and bent over towards Kirk’s ear.

“Mr. Kirk,” she whispered. “Can you help me keep a secret?”

***
All hell broke loose a couple of days later. Metallica minus Lars, were busy trying to help James write lyrics. They were lounging around in the sunroom drinking beer, and making their way through a plate of Brunhilda’s raspberry jelly filled cookies (because beer and cookies really goes together nicely).

Barnabas had just arrived home with Cecily. He was actually a good hour late bringing her home. Usually if they were on break, Cecily would run right into the sunroom and say hello. However today she began to run right up the stairs, and it sounded as if she was crying.

“Hey Cecily!” Cliff bellowed. “Get your ass over here and say hello to me, you little motherfucker!”

Cecily ignored Cliff, running straight to her room instead. She slammed the door.

“What the fuck is her problem?” James wondered aloud.

“Maybe her period started,” Kirk suggested.

“You fucking ass-twat!” Cliff snarled at him. “Five-year-olds don’t get their periods. I guess I better go upstairs and find out what’s wrong with her.”

Cliff traipsed up the stairs, with James and Kirk following behind. Through the closed bedroom door, they could hear Cecily sobbing into her pillow.

“Hey Cess,” Cliff called as he knocked on the door gently. “May I come in?”

“No!” cried Cecily. “I shall wither, and die, and perish in this room and never come out again!”

Cliff rolled his eyes, and opened the door, letting himself into the sunny bedroom. Cecily was sobbing fanatically into her pillow. She was almost crying as hard as she did when Cliff had first told her about Operation Cecily Ulrich.

Cliff reached out and touched her hair. “Cecily baby,” he said. “You have to tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it.”

“It can never be fixed,” Cecily wailed. “I’m sorry Cliff, but I have disgraced the Burton family name.”

“That’s okay Cecily,” said James. “Cliff already did that when he took a dump on the stage during this one Metallica gig in Cleveland.”

“Here,” she sobbed as she held a sealed envelope out to Cliff. “I’m not worthy enough to even be in the same house as you and Miss Josephine.”

Oh fuck, Cliff thought as he took the envelope. Cecily got herself in trouble for swearing in school. That just has to be it.

Cliff began to rip open the envelope. James and Kirk clamored to him like two dingleberries.

“Dude!” Cliff spat. “Get the fuck away from me! What goes on with my daughter is my business.”

“She’s not your daughter Cliff,” James retorted. “You’re not even her legal guardian yet. She’s just a random kid who happens to live with you, and me.”

“Fuck you James,” Cliff snarled as he took out a neatly typed letter. It read

Dear Mr. Burton,

I am writing you due to concern that I have over Cecily’s temper, when she cracked a book over the head of a fellow classmate, today in my classroom. I would like to meet with you regarding her temperament, whenever it is convenient for you.

Sincerely,

Ella Stacy



“She fucking cracked a book over some kid’s head?” James said allowed as he read the letter over Cliff’s shoulder. “That’s fucking bad-ass! Way to go Cess!”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Cecily cried. “Peter Jeffries was making fun of the way that I talk.”

“What the fuck for?” Cliff demanded. “There’s nothing wrong with the way that you talk.”

“He’s been awful to me all week long,” Cecily cried. “He’s always making fun of me, and saying that I talk different. All I did was asked him where he got his toy firetrock.”

“Firetrock?” Kirk repeated. “Oh I get it. He was picking on your Danish accent.”

“Don’t worry Cess,” said James. “In about ten years from now, that accent is going to be a major, major, major, asset for you. You’ll be able to score with just about anybody.”

“You smashed a book over this dude’s head just because he was picking on your accent?” Cliff asked, as he lit a cigarette.

“I just had enough of it,” lamented Cecily. “It’s been going on all week. He pulls on my hair too, and yesterday he ripped out one of my hair ribbons and ran off with it.”

“Prick,” Cliff muttered thoughtfully. “How hard did you smash it over his head?”

“Very hard I’m afraid,” answered Cecily. “I’ll never be able to face him again.” She buried her face back into her pillow. “Miss Stacy even made me stay after school and write “Cecily must control her temper” fifty times.”

Cliff sighed. Now on top of Social Services paperwork, trying to find a third candidate for the letter of recommendation, taking care of Cecily, and Metallica rehearsals, he’d have to go meet with Cecily’s dippy-ass teacher. Big deal, she cracked a book over the fucker’s head. He used to fucking beat the living shit out of his sister all of the time.

“You know Cecily,” he said as he sat down on the bed next to her, and handed her a tissue. “The reason that he’s fucking around with your hair, and teasing you is because he likes you.”

“That’s a weird way of showing it,” Cecily sniffled.

“Burton is actually right on this,” agreed James. “When we boys, see a totally smoking hot chick, sometimes don’t know how to act, so we torture the fuck out of her. I remember my first crush. I was around your age. Her name was Penelope, and I thought that she was totally fucking hot. She had these little ringlets, and one day I was sitting in the desk behind her, and I just couldn’t help it. I snipped one of them off with my scissors. Her Dad came over to my house that evening and kicked my ass.”

“Is Peter’s Dad going to come and kick my ass?” asked Cecily.

“No,” said Cliff. “I won’t let him. It certainly looks like Peter Jeffries has a thing for you.”

“Well I think that he’s vile and disgusting,” Cecily retorted.

“Good,” replied Cliff. “You’re much too young for boys. And don’t worry about him. If he ever wanted to date you, he’d have to deal with me first.”

“Thank you Cliff,” said Cecily through tears. Cliff took the tissue and dabbed her eyes.

“I’m so glad that you’re not mad at me,” Cecily went on. “I should have just told Peter to go fuck himself.”

“No Cecily,” said Cliff. “I’m glad that you didn’t. I think that you’ve gotten yourself into quite enough trouble…”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Het / Gen · Next Topic »
Add Reply