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Father of the Year; Kirk is going to get even with Lars. Het.
Topic Started: July 3, 2007, 9:40 pm (14,627 Views)
MissMetallica;;
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Poor Twisted Me
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“What the fuck is her problem?” James wondered allowed.

“Maybe her period started,” Kirk suggested.

my god, i just burst out laughing with that part. brilliant!

i havent got much time today to write an extended responsey thingy-ma-jig today, but i'd just like to say that yet again you've managed to impress me. i love your writing and this story is great! :tu: :tu: :)
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The Story Girl
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This chapter is dumb, but better than nothing.



Chapter 71- Cecily’s Valentine


Mrs. Hammett was baking yet another fucking cake. This one was one of her “famous” cheesecakes, and she was making it for Kirk to take with him to his next Metallica minus Lars rehearsal. As she clamored around the kitchen, she noticed a light blue envelope sitting propped up against the coffee pot. Glued very carefully to the edge of the seal of the envelope was some delicate, fine, lace. In very fine script the name Miss Emily Winston was printed on the front of it. Mrs. Hammett’s heart skipped a beat. It was obviously a love letter for Emily, and it just had to be from her Kirk Lee.

Mrs. Hammett looked over her shoulder, making sure that no one was around. It was morning, neither Kirk or Emily were early risers. She couldn’t help herself. She opened the envelope. Inside, she found a beautiful lacy sheet of paper cut in the shape of a heart. The heart was decorated with pictures of birds, cherubs, and violets. It read

I cannot speak aloud E.W.,
You are not next to me,
But if my heart could sing, it would,
For you are dear to me on this and every day.
We have been friends for a while,
Our friendship though not new,
Grows deeper, and as time goes by,
Improves as good things do.
If your heart cannot care for me,
then please do not reply.
But oh! My dear, if you do care,
Then hurry hurry fly.
And let me know by note or by nod
That I am dear to you.
And then happiness there’ll be,
One heart made of two.


Mrs. Hammett was rather tickled with the love note. It sounded like something that her little Kirk Lee would write. She was over the moon that he would be writing something so beautiful to Emily. Her picnic plan had worked! Her heart sank when she read the admirer’s initials at the very bottom of the page. They should have been K.H., but instead they were C.B. Who the fuck was C.B? The only name that came into Mrs. Hammett’s mind was Cliff Burton. How in charity’s name did Cliff Burton manage to write something so eloquent and profound? He was trying to take Emily away from her Kirk! Have Cliff find his own damn woman! Mrs. Hammett knew that Cliff was Kirk’s friend, but her son’s love life and happiness was at stake. She just had to intervene.

She went over to her desk, and took out a bottle of white out, and a fine ink pen. Very carefully, she whited out the C.B. and replaced it with a very neat K.H.

“There,” she said with satisfaction as she stuffed the letter back in the envelope. “Cliff probably copied it from something that my Kirk Lee had written anyway. It’s all for the best.”

***
Cliff was waiting outside the door of Cecily’s classroom that afternoon. He had to meet with her teacher regarding the great “smashing a book over some boy’s head incident.” As far as Cliff could see it, this was a major waste of his time. The fucking boy deserved it. The boy seriously needed his ass kicked.

Miss Stacy came out of the classroom. Cliff noticed right away that Miss Stacy had rather nice boobs. Her mouth dropped open as she gawked at the long haired, tattooed, skull shirt adorned, dude who loomed before her, smoking a cigarette. She couldn’t imagine sweet little Cecily living with someone like that.

You’re Cecily’s temporary guardian?” she asked.

“Yeah actually,” Cliff replied as he put out his cigarette. “You got a problem with that?”

“No Mr. Burton,” Miss Stacy replied, swallowing. She really wasn’t thrilled having to talk to this man alone in her classroom. “Come in, and have a seat.”

Cliff followed her into the classroom. He selected a desk to plop himself down in. Shit, he hadn’t sat behind a school desk in years. Miss Stacy sat down at her desk.

“Has Cecily been using cuss words in school?” Cliff asked, trying his very best not to be so obvious about staring at Miss Stacy’s tits.

“Uh no,” Miss Stacy replied. That was sure a random question.

“That’s a relief,” Cliff sighed. “She’s doing alright isn’t she?”

“Mr. Burton,” Miss Stacy began. “Cecily is flourishing. When she started here a week ago, she was maybe average in reading, if even that. Now, she’s the head of the class.”

“Fuck yeah!” Cliff exclaimed. “That’s my girl.”

I guess that’s why he was concerned about her using cuss words, Miss Stacy thought to herself.

“I would like to know how she improved so quickly,” said Miss Stacy. “Have you been getting her tutoring?”

“I help her every night with her reading after dinner,” replied Cliff. He took out his pack of cigarettes. “Can I smoke in here?”

“No smoking is allowed in the school Mr. Burton,” Miss Stacy replied. “That’s very nice of you to help Cecily with her schoolwork.”

Cliff lit up his cigarette anyway.

“Well it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do,” Cliff retorted. “It’s that, or watch James screw my ex out in the hot tub.”

Miss Stacy stifled a laugh. “The reason that I called you in here today is because Cecily smashed a book over one of our student’s head,” she said.

“Yeah, but he was being an asshole,” Cliff defended. “He was picking on her Danish accent.”

“I know,” Miss Stacy sighed. “Believe me. I’m going to meet with Peter Jeffries’s parents about that as well. He shouldn’t be picking on the way that she talks. I was thinking that perhaps Cecily could do a little presentation on her life in Denmark.”

“She spent her days sitting by herself in the corner of a hotel room, while her mother fucked every fellow that looked in her direction,” Cliff replied. “There’s nothing for her to present, at least not to a group of kindergartners.”

“Is that why she’s living with you?” Miss Stacy asked.

“Yeah,” Cliff nodded. “Her Mom doesn’t care dick about her.”

“She seems to be doing very well with her studies under your care,” said Miss Stacy. “I can also say that you do keep her very well kept. She’s one of the tidiest kids in the class.”

“Her French braids are a little messy,” said Cliff. “I’m not real good at doing them yet, but my buddy Kirk is going to give me a book on how to do them better.”

Miss Stacy smiled. “There’s one other concern, but it’s nothing major. She likes to read so much that often I have to take her books away from her. Sometimes she has them down in her lap during class. I’m thrilled that she’s reading so much, just not during my lectures though.”

“I used to do that too,” Cliff admitted. “I can talk to her about it.”

“Thanks,” Miss Stacy replied. “Cecily seems very happy under your guardianship. You’re doing very well.”

“Really?” Cliff asked. “That means a lot to me. She’s not my daughter, but sometimes I forget that she’s not. I don’t know why, but I just feel so good whenever I do shit for her.”

“That’s because you love her Mr. Burton,” said Miss Stacy. “Have you thought about applying to be a permanent guardian for Cecily?”

Cliff nodded. “I have all of the paperwork and shit. I just need three letters on recommendation, and I only have two.”

“I could write the third,” Miss Stacy offered. “I’ve done it for Social Services before. I’m her teacher, and I’m on the school board.”

Cliff nearly choked on his cigarette.

“You’d really do that?” he asked. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. He didn’t need to kiss Lars Ulrich’s ass after all!

“I can obviously see that you care about Cecily’s well being. I can tell that by the way you talk about her,” Miss Stacy replied.

“Thank you,” Cliff said as he got up to shake the lady’s hand. “I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

“You’re welcome Mr. Burton,” replied Miss Stacy. “Cecily is certainly a very lucky little girl.”

Well, Cliff thought to himself as he made his way out of the classroom. I guess that was a worthwhile appointment after all.

***
Emily was getting ready to go drop off a few things that she had bought for Cecily.
She was just about ready to leave, when she noticed a blue envelope with her name neatly penned on it, sitting over by the coffee maker.

“Whatever could this be?” she wondered out loud as she grabbed the letter. She didn’t have time to open it right now. She knew that traffic would be a bitch, and she had to be back to Mrs. Hammett’s in time for dinner. Mrs. Hammett had been making some grand, astronomical, feast all day, and she had told Emily not to be late. Swiftly, she stuffed the envelope in her purse to read later.

However, when she got to Aunt Josephine’s she found that Metallica was still rehearsing, and that Cecily was not yet home from school. Brunhilda set Emily out on the veranda with a pot of tea. Emily decided that this was the perfect opportunity to read her letter.
She read it again and again. She was just finishing up responding to the letter, when Cecily came home from school.

“Hello Miss Emily!” she said, as she ran to give her a hug. “Did you come by to see Cliff?” She added hopefully.

Emily frowned. “Why on earth would I come by to see him?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Cecily mumbled, a look of confusion crossing her face. Didn’t she know yet?

“Cecily, did you know that your hair barrettes are in upside down?” Emily asked.

“Are they? Cliff put them in for me this morning,” Cecily explained.

Emily shook her head, as she went to fix Cecily’s barrettes. “He’s a bassist, not a hairdresser,” she sighed.

“Are you sure that you didn’t come to see Cliff?” asked Cecily.

“No Sweetie,” replied Emily. “I came to see you. I bought you a new skirt and a top to go with it. I thought that you might like it.”

“Oh thank you Miss Emily,” said Cecily, hugging her again. “You have been so good to me. How can I ever repay you for the kindness that you have bestowed on me?”

Bestowed? Emily thought. Has Cliff been giving her pot?

“Actually,” she said. “You could do me a favor.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” said Cecily. “I hate Peter Jeffries. He’s this really creepy boy at school, but I’d even be nice to him if it would please you. I’d even eat grilled toads.”

“All you have to do is just give Mr. Kirk this letter for me,” said Emily. She pressed an ivory envelope into Cecily’s hands. In very neat writing it said

To: K. H.
From: E.W.


“I’ll give it to him,” Cecily promised as she carefully took the envelope. “What is it?”

“Just something private for Kirk,” Emily answered. “Can you promise to give this to him?”

Cecily nodded. “I promise.”

“That’s a good girl. I really should get going now,” said Emily as she stood up.

“Don’t you want to see Cliff?” asked Cecily. “You could have dinner with us. Mr. James has Miss Philippa over for dinner all of the time.”

“I promised Mrs. Hammett that I would have dinner with her and Kirk tonight,” Emily explained. “Could you be sure to give him that envelope before he leaves here? I’d like for him to have it before dinner tonight.”

Cecily nodded. She just wished that Emily would stay. Philippa came over virtually every night and hung around for hours, why couldn’t Emily? She also wondered why Emily couldn’t just give Kirk the envelope herself. She was even staying at his fucking house!

“Don’t you want to see Cliff even for a minute?” Cecily asked.

“I think that Cliff can live without seeing me,” Emily reassured her. She bent down and kissed the top of Cecily’s head. “Don’t forget to give Kirk his letter.”

Cecily read her book until Metallica minus Lars, ended their rehearsing for the day. She went straight to Kirk.

“So did Miss Emily mention anything about our letter?” he asked Cecily. Cecily shook her head.

“She wanted me to give you this though,” she gave him the envelope. Kirk raised an eyebrow, as he took it and opened it.

“No shit,” he murmured as he read it.

“What is it Mr. Kirk?” asked Cecily. “Is it an auto insurance bill? Cliff is always talking about not being able to pay his auto insurance bill.”

“No it’s certainly not a bill,” Kirk sighed. “It looks like Emily has replied to our letter. But for some reason, she replied to the wrong person…”






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MissMetallica;;
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wonderful poetry writing there ashley. i liked it alot, and very kirk like. :lol:
ah throughout that whole chapter i was like.. anticipating about the letter that mrs. hammett changed the signature. oh dear, and it looks like emily likes kirk. ah i was right :) but poor cliff. oh what will happen!

that chapter was certainly not dumb at all. it was really good. and im glad cliff got cecily's teacher to write the letter. yay!

fantastic!
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Kristen: Thank you so much for reading this! I'm keeping it going more for my own selfish reasons, but I am very glad that you're enjoying it. :dance

I had grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. So they get to be in the story now. :P



Chapter 72- James and Philippa to the Rescue


Kirk was just as confused as Cecily was over why Emily replied to him. He had never dreamed that Emily was sweet on him. Yeah, he had Ernestine, he was even supposed to take her to the zoo tomorrow, but until now, Emily had never even been an option. Emily’s words about pretending to like James to make someone jealous came back to his mind. He could have sworn that someone just had to have been Cliff. He never dreamed that it would actually be him. He started to feel very warm and tingly inside at the very thought of her. Kirk was jolted out of his thoughts by Cecily, tugging on his sleeve.

“What are we going to do Mr. Kirk?” she asked, her big green eyes were filled with worry.

“I’m not sure yet,” Kirk stammered. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. Yeah, he had promised Cecily that he would help her, but part of him wanted to answer Emily’s reply, and keep it for himself. Why give her away to Cliff?

“Didn’t she know that the Valentine was supposed to be from Cliff?” Cecily whined. “I wonder why she replied back to you.”

“She either A, thought that Cliff wasn’t capable of writing such a poem,” said Kirk. “Which he’s not, or B, she flat out doesn’t like Cliff, and would rather have me instead. Quite frankly, I’d like to have a try with Emily. Everyone else got one, even Lars.”

Cecily frowned. “But she’s not supposed to like you!” she cried. “She’s supposed to like Cliff. How can you do this to me? You’re betraying me!”

Kirk took his finger and lifted up Cecily’s chin so that he had could see that he had her full attention.

“Cecily,” he began. “I would never betray you. I may be sweet, quaint, meek, and sensitive, Mr. Kirk. I might be able to do beautiful needlepoint, and play the lyre, and bake fabulous cakes, but I’m still a man. I have needs. If Emily fancies me, she has every right to do so. I can’t force her to like Cliff. After all, I’m clean shaven and I smell nice.”

“But I want a Mom,” Cecily whined,

“You have a wonderful adopted father,” said Kirk. “A lot of kids only have one parent. My Mom basically raised me. I’m sorry Cess, but I’m not Cliff. You can’t just give me your sweet little pout, and tell me that you like Geezer Butler, to get anything that you want out of me. Emily must have seen something in me that she liked. Now I must get home. My Mama is preparing some big, special, dinner for tonight.”

As Cecily watched Kirk leave, she felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. It just wasn’t fair. Miss Emily was acting like a tramp! Couldn’t she tell that she liked Kirk herself? Emily was supposed to live happily ever after with Cliff, and now it wasn’t going to happen because Kirk’s dick was more important.

“Hey PrinCess,” greeted a stoned Cliff as he came into the room. “What’s wrong?”

Cecily didn’t answer. Instead, she just sulked and looked down at her shoes.

“Aw, I have bitchy Cecily today,” Cliff slowly replied as he tugged on Cecily’s hair. “Hey I actually got your barrettes in straight today! I’m a fucking bad-ass.”

Cecily was still sulking. Cliff shrugged. Maybe Hamster was right. Maybe she was getting her period or something. “Well,” he continued. “Brunhilda has the night off, so I’m going to make myself some grilled cheese sandwiches, have some beer, a little weed, and go watch Miami Vice in the den for the rest of the evening. You’re more than welcome to join me.” He shuffled off towards the kitchen.

“This is a disaster,” Cecily moaned as she plopped down on the stairs. “It’s Friday night and Cliff Burton is spending it eating grilled cheese,and watching Miami Vice? Something is drastically wrong here. I just have to get him laid, I just have to!”

If Cecily thought that grilled cheese sandwiches and Miami Vice was bad, things only got worse. It was around eleven o’clock at night, and she was sitting up in bed reading one of her books, when Cliff poked his head in.

“Lights out,” he said. “You know the drill. Lights out at ten o’clock on non school nights.”

“I’m sorry,” Cecily replied. “I’m just reading the most wonderful book, and I couldn’t put it down.”

“You know that after your bedtime, and during school lectures, are not the times to be reading,” said Cliff. “No matter how boring the lecture is.”

“Yes sir,” Cecily mumbled as she put down her book. Cliff came in the room to help her settle down into bed.

“You say your prayers?” he asked her.

“I sure did,” answered Cecily.

“You ask God and Jesus to bless the Misfits?” Cliff asked.

Cecily nodded. “I even asked God to please help Ozzy reunite with Black Sabbath,” she replied. Cliff smiled

“That’s my girl,” he said with satisfaction as he yawned. “I guess I’m going to turn in myself,” he said. “I’m tired. I think I’m going to go back to my room, and smoke a big, fat, joint, and fall into a deep, pot-induced, sleep.” He bent over and gave Cecily a kiss goodnight. “Goodnight Cecily. You rock,” he mumbled, and then he turned out the lights and trudged out of the room.

He’s going to bed at eleven o’clock on a Friday night! Cecily said to herself. He’s becoming lame! I just have to get him with Miss Emily, but how? I’m just a little girl. I know nothing about romance and love, and Mr. Kirk won’t help me. Cliff always says that desperate times cause for desperate measures. I’m in desperate need of help, I guess that I’ll go to the last person available.

Cecily quietly tiptoed out of the bed, to her door, and out into the hall. She could smell the sweet smell of weed drifting from under Cliff’s bedroom door. He had a towel stuffed under it, but it was pretty much like pissing in the ocean. Everyone could still smell it. She could also hear Bach playing faintly from his stereo. Hopefully, he would be too stoned to hear her tiptoe by. Cecily made herself over to the West Guestroom, where James had been staying. She knocked on the door.

“Mr. James,” she whispered. Cecily heard a moan and a squeal, but no answer from James. She opened the door, and let herself into the room. “Mr. James,” she said again.

“Jesus Christ Cecily!” James shrieked. “Didn’t Cliff fucking teach you how to knock?”

He was mounted on top of Philippa, who had dived for cover underneath the bedcovers.

“I’m sorry Mr. James,” Cecily said turning beet red. “I just needed some desperate help.”

“Have Cliff help you,” retorted James. “He’s not in the middle of getting laid.”

“That’s the problem,” said Cecily. She came right into the room, and plopped herself down on the edge of James’s bed. She told them everything about her great Valentine love note disaster.

“That’s so sweet,” Philippa cooed. “No one has ever written me a love note before,” she gave James a look.

“I’m sorry Cess, but I can’t really blame the Ham Man,” James retorted with a shrug. “Emily’s a hot lass. I’d definitely drink her bathwater.”

“James!” Philippa scolded.

“If you want to help Ole Cliffy get laid it’s quite easy,” said James. He grunted and then continued. “Just take him on down to Pandora’s Box. It’s this little strip joint down on highway 580. He can have his choice. Cliff’s not a picky guy. You should have seen some of the puss that he dragged in on our last tour. If it has a hole between its legs, he’s in there. There was this one chick her name was Peg, he picked her up at the homeless shelter and-”

“James Alan Hetfield!” Philippa interrupted. “That’s quite enough! We have a child in our presence, and you have to remember, I slept with Cliff once. I don’t want to hear about him banging chicks from the homeless shelter.”

“Sorry, I forgot about that,” said James, blushing. Cecily committed to memory that she should ask Cliff about Peg sometime.

“I think that you missed Cecily’s point,” said Philippa. “Come here Sweetheart,” she held her arms out to Cecily, and took the girl intp her arms. “Cecily wanting Cliff to hook up with this Emily chick goes beyond just getting him laid. She wants a mother figure.”

“I do,” Cecily nodded. “I have a Dad. I have a perfect Dad, but I would like a Mum too.”

“Oh,” James gasped. “I see. Is Emily aware that Cliff has a rich aunt with a hot tub?”

Cecily nodded. “She’s in love with Kirk though. Isn’t it tragic?”

“We just have to get them alone is all,” said Philippa. “I mean, Cliff and Emily have at least one thing in common: they both love Cecily. So if we could get Emily over here to like have lunch or tea with Cecily, but then have Cliff sitting there instead, bingo!”

“They’ll be banging like fuck bunnies in no time!” squealed James, as he clapped his hands excitedly.

“I know that if I called her and asked, I could get Miss Emily to have tea with me tomorrow afternoon,” said Cecily.

“And I’ll take care of Cliff,” said James. “I’ll make sure that he conveniently gets his ass out on the veranda. If I’m not mistaken, Kirk was supposed to be taking that brain dead, insipid tit Ernestine, to the zoo tomorrow, so we weren’t even going to do any rehearsing. There’s no reason in the least for Cliff not to be around tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh thank you James! Thank you Miss Philippa!” Cecily exclaimed. “Thank you so much for helping me! How will I ever repay you?”

“You don’t have to Sweetie,” Philippa said as she gently smoothed out Cecily’s hair. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now, snuggled in next to Jamie, enjoying things such as Miss Josephine’s hot tub.”

“Yeah Cess,” agreed James. “I have you to thank because you found Philippa. You can hand select my chicks anytime.”

“You won’t be needing to though,” Philippa added as she kissed the tip of James’s nose. “He has me.”

Philippa turned to Cecily. “And Sweetie,” she said. “If you ever feel like you need someone like woman to talk to, you can speak with me anytime.”

“But you’re mad at me,” said Cecily.

“I’m not mad at you,” Philippa explained, as she gave her a hug. “I’m mad at Cliff, but I’m not mad at you. You can’t help what he put you up to.”

“Don’t worry Cessy-Poo,” James laughed. “Philippa is too damn smoking hot to be a mama anyway. You just handle Miss Emily. I’ll handle the Cliffster, and bam! We’ll have them both laid in no time. Now we need to think about all of the romantic details.”

“Romantic details?” Philippa asked. “James, your idea of romance is fucking in the hot tub instead of in the pool shed.”

“You know what? It would be fun to fuck in that fountain that Miss Josephine has out in the front yard,” Cecily sighed.

“Damn kid,” said James. “You’re a naughty little fucker. That’s a hot idea. Phil and I will have to try that.”

“Don’t call me Phil!” Philippa scolded as she whacked James upside the head. “Now Mr. Het, why don’t you tell me all of these romantic details that you proclaim to know so much about…”
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MissMetallica;;
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cecily is sure a little scheming chicken isnt she :lol: hopefully her plan to get cliff and emily together will work out. but then poor kirk will be stuck with ernestine. ah dear what will happen.

i actually feel like eating a grilled cheese sandwich now after reading this. its like the time i felt like a diet coke after kirk wanting one. :lol:

im enjoying reading this, and you're enjoying writing this. :) its definately a win win situation

:D :D
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Another pointless chapter, but a fun one. At least for me anyway.

Kristen: I made you want a grilled cheese sandwich?? That's awesome.
I just really felt like one today, I hadn't had one in a very very long time.

Anyway, I seem to be fascinated by sunny mornings at Aunt Josephine's villa. I want to lounge around with an indenpendently wealthy aunt.


Chapter 73- Mornings with Cliff and James


Cliff was up, showered, and dressed with the chickens the very next morning. Even though it was Saturday, since he was going to bed a lot earlier, he was now getting up earlier. Brunhilda was off until noon, and it was only ten, so Cliff took it upon himself to cook breakfast for the entire household.

He knew that James loved fried meat and eggs for breakfast, and he was frying some up for him while singing I Wanna Rock by Twisted Sister, and smoking a cigarette at the same time.

“Shut the fuck up,” James groaned as he groggily trudged into the kitchen.

"No!" Cliff sang. “No! No, No, No, No, No!”

“Damn, Cliff you sure do suck at singing,” James grumbled as he helped himself to some coffee.

“Go back to bed Hetfield,” Cliff retorted. “What are you doing up anyway? You have Philippwhore waiting in the sack for you.”

“How can anyone sleep through your shitty-ass singing?” James shot. “You’d wake the dead.” He threw a spatula at him, but instead it nearly hit Cecily, who was walking into the kitchen still dressed in her nightgown.

“Watch it fucker!” Cliff yelped at James. “You almost hit my favourite little girl.” He ran to give Cecily a good morning hug.

“Aw, this is just like Little House on the Prairie,” snarfed James. He took a sip of the coffee that Cliff had made and spat it out. “Jesus fuck Burton!” he gasped. “This is like drinking toxic mud.”

“It’s a little strong so?” Cliff shrugged.

“It’s like a brown sludge of caffeine is coating the whole inner lining of my gut,” James spat as he choked on the coffee.

“Here,” Cecily reached into the cabinet where Brunhilda kept some liquor, and pulled out a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream. She poured a fair amount into James’s coffee cup.

“Good thinking kid,” said James as he downed the coffee, and reached for some more Irish Cream. He could drink Bailey’s straight.

“It’s a trick that Grandpa showed me,” Cecily explained. “He gave me coffee a few days ago, and I didn’t like it, so he put some of that in there for me. I liked it after that.”

“I never fucking told him that he could give you coffee,” Cliff snapped. “And he’s not your Grandpa, he’s, I don’t what the fuck you should call him, Mr. Burton I guess.” He went back to his eggs. “I was even going to drop you off over there today, but not if he’s giving you coffee with Kahlua in it.”

“It’s Irish Cream,” corrected Cecily. “What’s the big deal? You give me vodka and 7-Up every night before bed.”

“There’s a difference,” Cliff snapped as he waved his spatula at her.

Cecily did not like the difference.

“You don’t want to dump Cecily off at your parents’ house anyway,” said James as he swiped a piece of half fried bacon out of the frying pan. “She wants to have tea out on the veranda with you this afternoon.”

“She’s going to have to do it on a different afternoon,” Cliff replied. “I’ve made plans to go fishing with Dusty, Pod, and Chet, and my Mom really wants to like do little girl stuff with her.”

“But Cliff,” piped up Cecily. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Of course I do,” answered Cliff. “I just need a little time for myself. I need time away from James, and Kirk, Aunt Josephine, and even from you. You’ll have a great time at my rent’s house. If you play your cards right, and tell her that she’s beautiful, my Mom will buy you tons of shit. Just don’t let my Dad give you anymore coffee with that Irish shit in it.”

James and Cecily exchanged a glance. This was not good. For one thing, Cecily had to be around to make sure that the meeting between Cliff and Emily went according to plan, and how could Cliff meet Emily if he was off fishing with Chet, Pud, and Dusty?

“It’s supposed to rain Cliff,” said James. “You shouldn’t go fishing.”

Cliff glanced out of the sunny window. “It sure as hell don’t look like rain to me,” he scoffed. “We aren’t rehearsing today, so I can do the hell whatever I want. I’ve been working very hard this past week on the new album, and of taking care of Cecily. I think that I deserve a “Cliff” day.”

“Fuck that’s like everyday,” James snorted. “You get your ass kissed constantly.”

“Make your own fucking eggs!” Cliff snapped as he hurled a piece of greasy bacon right at James. It smacked and plastered itself right on James’s forehead.

“Fuck you!” James shrieked. He picked up the half full can of beer that Cliff had sitting out on the kitchen counter, and threw it at Cliff. Cliff was drenched in beer.

“You asshole!” he screeched. He turned around towards the sink, and took the sprayer out of the socket, and turned the faucet on. He aimed it right at James spraying water on him, and all over the entire kitchen.

James was now drenched, and extraordinarily pissed off, but he was not a pussy. He grabbed the open carton of eggs that was sitting out next to the stove, and began to pelt eggs at Cliff.

Cecily ran around shrieking, as she ran through the battleground of water and eggs.

“Get behind me Cess so that you stay safe,” Cliff said, as he pushed the little girl to safety right behind him.

“What the fuck is going on?” The voice of Aunt Josephine demanded. Aunt Josephine and Philippa dressed in their night clothes, stood in the kitchen doorway. Cliff stopped the sprayer at once. James was a little slow with his reflexes, and ended up pelting one last egg. It landed right in between Philippa’s eyes and broke, spewing yellowy yoke all down her face.

“Fuck,” James muttered.

“I don’t have one child living in this house!” Aunt Josephine screamed. “I have three! Actually two, because the five-year-old acts more mature than the twenty-three year olds do!”

“I’m twenty-two actually,” said James.

“More like twenty-two going on five,” Aunt Josephine quipped. “Just who do you think is going to clean this mess up?”

“That’s what you pay Brunhilda for,” Cliff replied as he pulled an egg shell out of Cecily’s hair.

“Wrong,” shot Aunt Josephine. “Brunhilda is not your boys’ guinea maid. You two will spend your Saturday cleaning this mess up.”

“Can I clean it up tomorrow?” Cliff asked. “I have plans to take Cecily to Mom and Dad’s, and go fishing with my friends.”

“I’m afraid that you’ll have to give your friends your regrets,” replied Aunt Josephine. “I don’t want egg yolks rotting all over my kitchen until tomorrow.”

“But Aunt Josephine!” Cliff protested.

“And when you boys finish cleaning the mess that you’ve made, you can help put my new entertainment center together.”

“Entertainment center?” James asked.

“You know that big screen TV that you like to vegetate in front of for hours a day?” said Aunt Josephine. “I bought a new cabinet for it, but it’s so huge that it comes in pieces. You boys can put it together for me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” James squawked. Aunt Josephine frowned

“Excuse me, but I fucking let you two boys stay at my fabulous villa free of charge. I think that you two have it pretty good here. You have a live in maid who picks up all of your beer cans, and does your laundry. You have all of your meals prepared to order, a wonderful rehearsal space, and Mr. James: you do seem rather fond of my hot tub. I think that the least that you two boys could do is clean up the mess that you made, and help an old lady with a huge piece of furniture. Come Philippa, I’ll help you get cleaned up.” The two women left the room.

“This is some serious bullshit!” Cliff snarled as he kicked his empty beer can across the room. “Now my plans are ruined! Ruined, ruined, ruined! I won’t get to go fishing!”

“But you can have tea out on the veranda with me at four o’clock,” said Cecily as she began to wipe egg yolk off of him with a clean dishrag.

“Fuck that,” Cliff grumbled as he took a mop, and began to mop up the waterlogged floor. James gave Cecily a wink. The last thing that he wanted to do was clean the fucking kitchen, and dick around with an entertainment center, but at least their plan was back into action.

“Go run along Cecily,” Cliff said. “You didn’t make this mess. You don’t have to help clean it.”

“I don’t mind helping Cliff,” she replied as she began to wipe up the kitchen island. “I’m just so glad that I get to stay with you. You’re so much fun. Mummy never had food fights in the kitchen at the hotel.”

“She did drizzle my entire body with whipped cream and honey once,” said James. He rested his chin on the handle of his mop, and got a dreamy look in his face, as his dick got all hard. “Then she came and licked it all off. Slurp. Slurp. She had a very finely trained tongue.”

“For fuck’s sake James!” Cliff exclaimed. “Quit talking about her mother that way. You’re weirding the kid out.”

A melancholy look crept up on Cecily’s face. “She hasn’t called me back at all has she?” she asked. Cliff shook his head. “I’d much rather live with you,” Cecily went on. “But still, it would have been nice to have Mummy at least call and check to see how I’m doing. I wanted to tell her about Mandie, and about my good reading scores.”

“It’s been a week,” said James. “She’s got to be back from her vacation with her boyfriend by now.”

“And still, she couldn’t even make time to talk to me,” Cecily put in sadly. “My Mum is probably happy that I’m gone.”

“Well fuck yeah,” said James. “She can fuck without you staring at her in the next bed. But don’t worry kiddo. Cliffy and I adore you.” He bent down and James Hetfield himself, gave Cecily a hug.

“Thank you Mr. James,” said Cecily. “If it wasn’t for you and Cliff and Miss Emily, I’d be in the depths of despair right now.”

Just then, the phone rang. Cliff answered it.

“Burton residence,” he said cheerfully. “This is Cliff speaking. To whom may I direct your call.”

“Is this Cecily’s father?” a voice asked.

“Yes it is,” Cliff replied. It was a lot easier just to say yes over the phone than explain that he was only a temporary guardian filing for custody, and all of that bullshit.

“This is Lydia Jeffries, Peter’s Mom,” said the voice.

“Your fucking son is a dick!” Cliff yelled into the phone. “How dare he pick on my daughter! She can’t help it if she has a Danish accent!”

“You don’t seem to have one Mr. Burton,” Mrs. Jeffries replied.

“Oh yeah?” Cliff snorted. “Fock you! You tell your dweeby son to stay the fuck away from my daughter! He made her cry!”

“I was going to apologize for that,” said Mrs. Jeffries. “I had a talk with him about being hurtful to others. However, two wrongs do not make a right, and your daughter was not right in smashing a book over my Peter’s head. He has a bump now. You need to apologize as well.”

“I’m sorry if my daughter has more balls than your son does!” Cliff snapped into the phone. “Fuck you!” And then he slammed down the receiver.

“Cliff, you sound mad,” Cecily said sheepishly.

“I’m not mad at you Sweetheart,” Cliff replied in a much gentler tone, as he gave Cecily a hug. “Monday in school, even though you’re not really sorry, tell that little Jeffries shit weasel kid that you’re sorry for smashing a book over his head. Okay?”

“Okay,” Cecily answered. “Would Geezer Butler do it?”

“He sure as hell would,” replied Cliff. “Now why don’t you go run along and get dressed. I’m pretty much Aunt Josephine’s personal slave for the day.”

“Remember that you have to have tea with me on the veranda at four o’clock,” Cecily reminded him as she skipped towards the door.

“Jesus Cliff,” said James as he swept up broken egg shells. “You were talking like a full fledged father on that phone.”

“I’m all that Cecily has,” Cliff retorted. “I mean, Claudia is a fucking sorry excuse for a Mom. You have to admit that James. She hasn’t checked up on Cecily even once.”

“I know,” James agreed. “I even know how that feels, you know with my Dad. I guess that’s why I’m sort of feeling a soft spot for the girl myself. She’s been really good for you Cliffster. I hope that Social Services let you keep her.”

“Thanks James,” Cliff replied. “I hope so too. I don’t know what I’d do without her. Life just means so much more having her around.”

“I’m sorry that I threw eggs at you,” said James.

“I kind of started it,” said Cliff. He reached into the pocket of his bellbottoms, and pulled out a small purple stone. He pressed it into James’s hand.

“What the fuck is this?” James asked as he examined the stone. “Some sort of hippie stone or something?”

“It’s a friendship stone,” replied Cliff. “Cecily gave it to me. You’re supposed to pass it along to a special friend.” Cliff turned around and went back to his mopping.

James stuffed the stone into the pocket of his extremely tight jeans. He hoped that he could get Cliff out on the veranda that afternoon, so that he could help both him and Cecily out…
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MissMetallica;;
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that plan is back on track. phew. i got worried there for a minute ash! that food fight between cliff and james was brilliant. very descriptive and i could see the whole thing going on inside my head.

aww cliff gave james the friendship stone. thats sweet. :)
cant wait for more. :)
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Verity
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Eek! I forgot all about Lars and Claudia. Shit, that was bad of me. Luckily, they get this chapter. :P



Chapter 74- Lars's Quest for Revenge


Copenhagen

Claudia unlocked the door of her hotel room, and flicked on the light. Ryland, her rich boyfriend at the moment, trailed in behind her. Both were a little tipsy, and were revved up and up ready for a night of blissful fucking.

“I’m going to go freshen up a little,” said Claudia, as she stumbled into the bathroom.

Ryland plunked himself down on Claudia’s bed. He had been seeing Claudia for just a little over a week. Her personal life was still a mystery to him, but she was still the best sex that he had ever had. As he waited for Claudia, his eyes began to wander around the room. Come to think of it, he had never even been in Claudia’s room before. They were always going back to his place, because it was so much bigger, and last week they were on vacation. He noticed a picture over on the desk of Claudia and a very young girl who looked to be around four or five.

Ryland got up from the bed, made his way over to the desk, and picked up the picture to get a better look at it. It looked fairly recent, and it must have been taken in the lobby of the hotel on one of the sofas. Claudia was holding the young girl in her arms. Both had long, thick, brown hair, but Claudia’s shade of brown was much darker than the girl’s. The little girl also had a few freckles that Claudia certainly did not have. Still, they both looked happy, and there was a resemblance. It had to be a niece or much younger kid sister. Could it possibly even be a daughter? It would be possible, but Claudia had never mentioned a daughter, not once.

Claudia came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a short, silk, pink bathrobe. She wrapped her arms around Ryland’s waist.

“Ry?” she said.

Ryland whirled around. He was still clutching the picture. Claudia glanced at it, her eyes went wide.

“Who’s this little girl Claudia?” he asked.

“Why do you ask?” asked Claudia as she went over to the bed and sat down. She did not seem real happy.

“She’s cute. Who is she?” Ryland returned.

“She’s my daughter,” answered Claudia distantly.

“You never mentioned a daughter to me Claudia,” said Ryland.

He’ll be like all the others, Claudia thought. They always leave when they find out about Cecily.

“Most of my boyfriends aren’t too thrilled when they find out about her,” Claudia admitted as she lit a cigarette.

“Where is she?” Ryland asked. “How come she isn’t around?”

“She’s in San Francisco,” Claudia answered as she blew a puff of smoke.

“Does she live with her Dad?” Ryland asked.

Claudia looked past Ryland, out the window. “Yeah,” she lied. It was much easier to lie. For one thing, she didn’t have to explain that she didn’t know where or who Cecily’s real father even was. She also didn’t have to explain that Cecily was really half a world away with some dude that Claudia barely knew. She knew Lars, and she had gotten to know James, but she hardly knew anything about this Cliff. If she had told Ryland the truth, she would have looked like a horrible mother, which she was. Plus, she didn’t want to admit to Ryland that her daughter would rather live with an immature stoner in a different country, than with her own mother.

“You never mentioned her,” said Ryland.

“It makes me sad to think of her,” sighed Claudia. “It’s really better for her over in San Francisco though. Her health is fragile. She gets sick a lot, and faints and stuff. The warmer air is better. Plus her Dad has more money than I do. He can support her better.”

Claudia looked down into her lap. That part had to be partly true. Cecily was better off living in San Francisco with Cliff. She just had to keep telling herself that so she wouldn’t feel guilty about letting her go. Living in a tiny little hotel room was no life for a little girl anyway. She was doing the right thing. Every parent wanted their kid to grow up and be better off than they were. She felt as if now she was giving Cecily that chance.
She just hoped that Cecily would never forget her.

“You seem like you miss her,” said Ryland.

“Of course I do,” admitted Claudia, choking back tears.

“Does she visit often?” Ryland asked.

“It’s far and expensive,” Claudia replied. She hadn’t even thought of anything such as having Cecily come back in visit. It was a long trip, a trip that a five-year-old shouldn’t be making alone. Claudia didn’t even have the money for a plane ticket for Cecily anyway, let alone an adult to go with her. She doubted that once this album was finished, that Metallica would have much business to do over in Copenhagen anyway. It dawned on her that more than likely she would never see Cecily again.

***
San Francisco

Lars Ulrich was awakened out of his blissful slumber by the sound of his bedside phone ringing.

“Fock!” he muttered. “It was eleven o’clock Saturday morning! How dare someone call and wake him.”

“Are you going to answer that Lars?” Roslyn, the prostitute that he had hired for the night asked.

Lars didn’t want to, but he knew that he should. It could be James. Lars had been hiding out at the Metallimansion for a week, and hadn’t seen anything of James or Cliff. He assumed that they must be shacked up together at Cliff’s aunt’s house. Probably off sucking each other’s dicks or something.

“What do you want?” Lars growled into the phone.

“Lars, this is Flemming,” said the voice on the other end.

“In case that you are unaware,” Lars snarled. “I’m in the United States right now! We’re in a different time zone!”

“I’m well aware that you’re off in the United States,” said Flemming evenly. “After all, the only member of Metallica that has been in the studio at all this week is Yann, and I’m sick of him sitting there staring at me on the couch. Is James around?”

“I don’t know where the fuck he is!” grumbled Lars. “If I did, I wouldn’t still be in San Francisco.”

“That’s odd,” said Flemming. “I just got the package that he sent.”

“What package?” demanded Lars.

“James sent me a couple of tapes of some adjustments that he, Kirk, and Cliff made to some of the songs this past week. They sound really good. I’m very impressed. They made some vast improvements. I think getting out into the California sunshine was good for them.”

Lars felt as if his whole stomach had just turned into a great ball of lead. This confirmed it! James, Kirk, and evil, nasty, Cliff, were rehearsing behind his back! Lars had never felt so betrayed. They had practically kicked him out of the band! Cliff was the one who was supposed to be out of the band, not him.

“You didn’t know about it?” Flemming asked. “I guess that explains why they’re aren’t any drums on any of the tapes. Just either get everyone back to Denmark so that we can finish the album here, or have me send the pre-recorded shit to a studio in California, so that you can finish it over there, anything! We just have to get this album finished, or else I’m cutting you goons from the label.”

“Did there happen to be a return address on that package that James sent?” Lars asked.

“Just the address at the Metallimansion,” replied Flemming. “Why?”

“Never mind,” Lars snarled. He couldn’t believe it. Didn’t anybody know where the fuck Cliff’s aunt lived? What the fuck was she? A CIA agent?

“Oh and Lars,” Flemming added. “I really think that you should use Cliff at least until the album is finished. You can fire him again after the recording, but Yann just isn’t going to cut it.”

“Fock you, Cliff sucks!!” Lars snarled as he slammed down the phone.

“What’s the matter Larsy-kins?” Roslyn asked, as she began to slop all over him.

“Oh quit drooling all over me you foolish girl!” Lars scoffed as he pushed her away. Roslyn didn’t look quite so hot-to-trot when he was sober. “Don’t call me Larsy-kins!”

Lars hopped out of bed and started to throw his clothes on. He felt as if James had just shoved a dagger through their friendship. James would rather side with Cliff, than with him! Of course, Lars wasn’t aware of the fact that Cliff’s aunt had a fantastic hot tub.

“If they decide to start their own band together, they can’t use the Metallica name!” Lars ranted as he bustled around the house like a hurricane. “It’s mine! It's a good thing that I don't know where Cliff's been hiding out, or else I'd take that Cecily kid and I'd torture her. I hate the focking kid anyway! I'd break all of her fingers, and set her hair on fire! I'd torture her right in front Cliff, until he begged for my mercy! Use the stupid kid. That would be one way that I could get that fucker down on his knees!”

“You haven’t paid me yet Lars,” Roslyn announced, as she stood waiting to leave in his living room, twirling her bra that she didn't bother to put back on around her fingers. She really wasn't too interested in Lars's tirade.

“I don’t pay for a job not well done,” Lars snickered.

“You sure seemed to be enjoying it last night,” Roslyn retorted.

“I’m a good faker,” snapped Lars. “Now get the fock out of my home!” He chased the hooker out of the front door. “And don’t ever come back!” he screeched at her, as she stumbled down his front porch steps.

Lars slammed the door, and went back to his bedroom. He swiped up the picture that he had of First Communion Kirk, and stuffed it into the pocket of his spandex trousers. This was war! It was time to get even! Cliff and James thought that they were so fucking high and mighty sending cute little demo tapes to Flemming, well he would show them who's boss! No one made an ass of Lars Ulrich.

“Nobody messes with Lars Ulrich!” Lars ranted as he grabbed his car keys and made his way out to his car. “As God as my witness, I’m going to get Kirk Hamster back in my band even if it’s the last thing that I do! Cliff and James won’t have a guitarist, and then they’ll be back to what they have always been without me: nothing!”
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Shayi
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Hey hey man you've written tons in a fortnight!! I'm trying desperately to catch up here :) Just to let you know, so far it's absolutely awesome :)
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MissMetallica;;
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shayi's back! yayyy! hope you had a wonderful time away. :D

that lars, he just needs to take a few deep breaths. BREATHE LARS OR YOU'LL POP THAT VEIN IN YOUR NECK. ackk im scared of what he's going to do to get kirk back in the band :ugh:

and for the first time in the whole story..i actually felt sorry for claudia :( she needs to call cecily and let her know that she loves her and misses her.

great! cant wait for more :)
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Raedoll
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I'm back and I'm on track, I'm so glad that I took the time to re-catchup on this story. I could see Lars taking that picture, and whining about having to do 'servant' stuff. Cliff and Cecily are so freaking adorable with eachother, and Cecily's teacher cracked me up when she was "interviewing" Cliff. Cliff's turning into such a daddy, and it's funny to that Cecily's starting to think he's getting Lame. I can't believe Kirk's mum did that!! BOOOO. Boo hiss! She's ruined a lot of junk, and blargh! lol, I don't know much else to say other than that Lars is a douche that needs to be put into place. They should vote Lars out of the band! bwahah. That would be brilliant.
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Verity
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Hi Shayi!!! Glad to have you back. Hope you had fun. When I'm stressed I write a lot. Obviously I'm a tad stressed out.

Rae: Nice to see you back as well. I'm glad that you had fun catching up.

Kristen: I'm feeling a little bad for Claudia too. :( But she's still a slut. :lol: and poor little Kirky.




Chapter 75- Lars Gets Even


Cliff Burton and James Hetfield were sitting on the floor of Aunt Josephine’s spacious living room, trying to assemble her brand new entertainment center. They had just unpacked all of the different parts out of the box. It came in an absolute shit load of different pieces which were now strewn about the floor.

“Wow,” Cecily who had been watching from the sofa gasped. “That’s like a giant jigsaw puzzle.”

“Jigsaw puzzle?” Cliff snorted and took a long drag on his cigarette. “It’s more like a fucking labyrinth monstrosity. I can’t believe Aunt Jo is making us do this shit. This totally blows all cock.”

“Yeah, what the fuck is up with that?” sighed James. “She was such a cool motherfucker. I don’t see why we fucking need an entertainment center anyway. I mean, the TV is big enough by itself.”

“Because Master James,” said Aunt Josephine as she strutted into the room. “It’s called accessorizing the home.”

“James’s idea of accessorizing his house is to have a beer bottle from every country decorating his windowsill,” Cliff retorted.

“Someday, I’m going to have a hot tub in my bedroom,” said James. “A black hot tub.”

“Good, then you won’t have to keep using mine,” replied Josephine. “Well, I guess that I’ll leave you two to work. It will more than likely take you the greater part of the afternoon. I told Brunhilda to bring you boys some beer and sandwiches after awhile, since you did do an adequate job cleaning up the kitchen.” She turned to Cecily. “Cecily darling, would you like to come with me, or stay here?”

“I’d rather stay here if that’s alright Miss Josephine,” replied Cecily. “I just have to watch this. It’s going to be funny.”

“Why the fuck do you say that?” demanded Cliff. “You don’t think that Mr. James and I can put this fucker together?”

Cecily smiled and shook her head, sending her curls flapping back and forth.

“Fuck you Cess!” Cliff grunted. “Come on James, read me the instructions.”

James hunted around through the rubble of parts, and located the instructions that were still deep inside the box.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he squinted at them. “I can’t read them.”

“You’re such an ass James,” Cliff snapped. “Even Cecily could read them.”

“Can she read Spanish?” James asked.

“Give me that!” Cliff snatched the instruction sheet and frowned at it. There wasn’t one word of English. “Fuck!” he spat as he threw them down. “We don’t need them anyway! It’s just an entertainment center. It should be as easy as taking a shit.”

“That wasn’t so easy for me this morning,” James sighed as he tried to stand up two pieces of wood together. “I think that I’m a little blocked.”

“Some coffee and a granola bar ought to do the trick,” said Aunt Josephine. “Clifford, what are you doing?”

“I’m screwing the fucking thing together,” Cliff replied. He was attempting to use a screwdriver, and screw in the screws that held together pieces of the entertainment center. Let’s just say that Cliff is a better bassist than tool person.

“You’re not even holding the thing right,” sighed Aunt Josephine. “Apparently, your father never showed you how to use a screwdriver.”

“He showed me how to make a screwdriver,” said Cliff. He watched as Aunt Josephine got down on her hands and knees, and began screwing the parts together. “I shouldn’t be doing that shit anyway,” he went on. “Might give me tendonitis in my wrists.”

“Me too,” said James. “I shouldn’t use a hammer either. Might hurt my fingers. I need my shredders.”

“Oh honestly James,” shot Aunt Josephine as she began to put the entertainment center together herself. “You play your ax for what? Two measly hours a day? The only muscle that gets overused in your body is, oh never mind!”

“My cock!” James finished proudly. “You sure as hell got that right.”

“My cock is atrophying,” Cliff moaned as he handed his aunt the screws that she needed.

James gave Cecily a mischievous grin. “Hey Cecily,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

Cecily got up to follow James out of the room.

“You better not be showing her your cock James!” Cliff bellowed.

“She could only wish,” snapped James.

“Actually, I’d rather see Mr. Kirk’s,” chirped Cecily.

“We need to do something about that,” Cliff sighed. He watched as she followed him out of the room. What the fuck did James have to show her? It didn’t matter, Cliff knew that James cared about Cecily, and he trusted him around her.

James led Cecily to the kitchen, where they could speak with Brunhilda in peace.

“Hey Brunhilda,” greeted James. “We need your help.”

“Judging by the food fight that I heard about this morning, I’d say that you sure do,” replied Brunhilda.

“We need your help fixing a romantic tea out on the veranda for Miss Emily,” Cecily explained.

“Cecily Sweetie,” said Brunhilda. “Isn’t Cliff having tea with you out on the veranda? Considering the fact that he’s in the process of adopting you, I don’t think that a romantic tea is appropriate.”

“He’s not having tea with Cecily,” said James. “We’re trying to get him some action. Emily is going to be there instead.”

“Oh!” Brunhilda gasped, her eyes widening. She loved shit like this. “You two are playing cupid. That’s good, because Clifford has been turning in for bed awfully early lately.”

“You got it,” nodded James. “We need your help in making it all romantic and shit. We need candles, flowers, cheap champagne.”

“Cliff doesn’t drink champagne,” said Cecily. “He likes Heineken.”

“But Miss Emily doesn’t,” retorted James. “If you want to fuck, you drink beer. If you want to fuck and fall in love, you drink champagne.”

“There’s nothing worse than a broken heart,” Brunhilda stated. “Don’t you two cupids worry, I’ll take care of all of the romantic details. We can have champagne and Heineken, but you two will have to help me…”

***

Kirk Hammett was dressed in his finest tight, tight, black jeans, the one without a hole ripped in the ass, and a freshly cleaned and pressed Metallica tank top. He was going with Ernestine to the zoo today. It would be safe. Emily was supposed to go over to Cecily’s for tea, so she wouldn’t even know. Kirk wasn’t sure how he wanted to handle his new found knowledge of a possible relationship with Emily. He didn’t want to just throw away Ernestine though. She had been his steady U.S. girlfriend for nearly five months now. That was a record for anyone in Metallica.

Kirk was happily plucking his eyebrows in the bathroom mirror, while Ernestine waited for him out in the living room.

“Hurry up Kirky,” she moaned. “I want to see the sea lions.”

“I’m just trying to make myself look really good for you,” said Kirk.

“You already look good enough for me Kirk,” she replied.

“Our new album is coming along nicely,” Kirk prattled. “James, Cliff, and I made some really good changes. I think it’s going to be some of our best work.”

“Whatever,” Ernestine sighed. “Someday, you’ll grow out of that silly band. Can we go now?”

There was a knock on the door.

“Ernie dear,” Kirk called. “Can you get that please?”

“I’m in high heels,” Ernestine protested. “You try walking around in high heels.”

Kirk sighed, and made his way to the door. As soon as he opened it, he knew that it had been a mistake. There stood Lars Ulrich, and he was flaming mad.

“Hiya Lars,” Kirk greeted. “Care for a spot of tea?”

“I’ll slam that tea up your ass!” Lars snarled. He slammed Kirk head first right into the back of the door. “You focking listen up puss-wad! You got that?”

“I didn’t do anything Lars!” Kirk squawked. “Please, please, let me go! You’re hurting me.”

“Good,” Lars snarled. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the picture of First Communion Kirk. “Tell me Hamster,” he demanded. “Just who is this little turd in this picture?”

“How’d you get that?” Kirk asked. “That’s from my Mama’s personal photo album.”

“It’s not too personal,” snapped Lars. “She shows it to every focking person that comes through her kitchen. She even gave it to me. Now who is it?”

“It’s me,” Kirk squeaked.

“That it is,” said Lars. “And you’re looking very unmetal.”

“I was a child,” Kirk defended. “It was my First Communion.”

“Are you looking at Kirk’s First Communion pictures?” Ernestine asked, as she came to the door. “You should have Mrs. H show you the ones of baby Kirk naked in the bathtub.”

“I don’t want to give myself nightmares,” Lars retorted. “Hey Flat-Chesty,” he hissed to Ernestine.

“Fuck you Ulrich!” Ernestine snapped.

Lars turned back to Kirk. “I was thinking about turning this darling photo into Kerrang! Magazine,” he said. “It could go in their Jesus issue.”

“Lars, you wouldn’t,” pleaded Kirk. “My buds would never let me live it down.”

“But you look so sweet Kirky,” said Ernestine.

“I’m not supposed to look sweet, I’m supposed to look metal!” Kirk retorted. “Don’t do it Lars!”

“I won’t do it under one condition,” said Lars. “I want to know where Cliff’s Aunt lives.”

“Never!” yelled Kirk. Lars smacked him across the face. Kirk yipped in pain. Ernestine just watched the whole scene with her thumb up her ass, totally useless.

“If you don’t take me to Cliff’s Aunt’s right now, this photo will be the cover of Kerrang!,” threatened Lars. “I know the editor. He’s my man. He’ll print whatever I ask him to.”

That was true. Lars was always getting himself on the cover, just not in First Communion suits.

“It’s not fair to disrupt his aunt,” Kirk tried weakly.

“You sure are,” said Lars. “With all of this rehearsing and sending demo tapes to Flemming. Just remember Kirk, I’m Metallica’s purse strings, not James. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. ”

“I think all of you Metallica people should give it up,” piped up Ernestine. “Grow up and get a real job. Kirky could get a job selling insurance with my Dad.”

“Fock off you flat chested bitch!” Lars griped at her. Damn, he detested Ernestine and her twaddle. He turned back to Kirk and began to choke him. Kirk gurgled and his eyes began to bulge out of their sockets.

“I can’t breathe Lars!” he peeped. “Please stop!”

“You going to stop sucking James’s dick, and licking Cliff’s pussy?” Lars snarled. “Are you ready to take me to Cliff’s Aunt’s house?”

Kirk gagged. His poor, little, face was turning purple. His vision was going blurry, and he could see a white light. He was suffocating!

“Okay,” he moaned. “I’ll take you there.”

Lars loosened his grip. Kirk fell to the ground gasping for air.

“That’s a good boy,” Lars said as if Kirk were his dog. “Let’s get going. I understand that the Napa Valley is a ways away from here.”

Kirk slowly got up, his head felt light and woozy from lack of oxygen. “Let me catch my breath Lars,” he said.

“Catch it on the drive there,” Lars replied, and he pulled Kirk towards his car.

“Kirky!” Ernestine yelled. “What about the zoo?”

“Fock the zoo!” Lars yelled back. “He’s on important Metallica business.”

“I’ll take you tomorrow Ernestine,” Kirk promised as he slid into the car.

“But Kirky!” Ernestine cried. “I wanted to go right now!”
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MissMetallica;;
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Poor Twisted Me
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LARS NEEDS TO BE SLAPPED UPSIDE OF THE HEAD! poor kirk!! i just dont know how he could be such an ass to everyone. gah its like he has permenant PMS. hahaha.

claudia is definately still a slut :lol: i dont think she will be changing anytime in the near future

hope you're feeling a bit de-stressed soon ashley. :)
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Raedoll
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Kirk needs to grow a pair and deck Lars. (I'm sorry, but that's all the review that popped into my head. More to follow later in a possible Edit.)
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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:lol: that last update wasn't very inspired. I think this one is better.

And my updates might start getting slower now. I'm going to go from moderately busy to very very busy. EEK!

and Cliff took his asshole pill for this chapter.


Chapter 76- Getting Too Attached


Cliff was getting himself ready to go have tea with Cecily. Her and her fucking tea all of the time. All she wanted to do was have tea, tea, and more tea.
“What the fuck is it with you and tea?” Cliff had asked after she had begged him to meet her out on the veranda.

“Just think Cliff,” Cecily had replied. “Geezer Butler is English. He must have tea every afternoon.”

“Her real dad must be a British dude,” Cliff muttered as he ran a comb through his hair. He couldn’t help but worry a little. What if Cecily’s real dad ever popped up? What if he was rich and powerful? Would he demand that his daughter get sent back? Now that he had her, Cliff couldn’t imagine his life without her. “Claudia is a slut,” Cliff told himself. “She’ll never find Cecily’s real dad.”

Cliff still needed to round up Cecily some flowers. For some dippy reason, Cecily had insisted that he bring her flowers to tea.

Cliff moseyed his way out to Aunt Josephine’s garden. She was down with him taking any flowers that he pleased, especially if they were for Cecily.

“Cecily likes purple,” Cliff said as he surveyed the rose garden. “I’ll make her a bouquet of all purple flowers.”

Cliff was standing in the kitchen, trying to somewhat arrange the flowers neatly when the phone rang. Cliff answered the phone.

“Hello Cliff,” said a voice. “This is Claudia, Cecily’s Mom.”

Fuck, Cliff thought. He was silent on the phone.

“Hello?” Claudia asked again. “Cliff? It’s Claudia, Cecily’s mother.”

“I know who you are,” Cliff said finally.

“I was just wondering how Cecily is doing?” she replied.

“She’s doing fine,” Cliff retorted coldly. “It’s about fucking time that you called to check up on her.”

“Cliff, I’ve been very busy, and I don’t have the money for the long distance calls,” said Claudia.

“How was your week vacationing with your boyfriend?” Cliff asked. “Really busy?”

“I’m not here to discuss my personal life,” Claudia retorted. “I want to know how my daughter is doing.”

“She’s doing great,” said Cliff. “She’s no longer sick, she’s happy, she has a little friend. She gets good marks in school.”

“School?” Claudia repeated. Having Cecily in school in a different country made everything seem so finalized. “Could I talk to her?” Claudia asked.

Cliff could hear Cecily laughing at some sick perverted joke that James was telling out in the other room. He cleared his throat

“Actually, she’s not here right now,” he lied. “She’s spending the day at her friend’s house.”

“Oh,” Claudia replied, sounding very disappointed. “I’d say that I’d try calling her again tomorrow, but I don’t have the money. “Will you tell her that I called?”

“Yeah,” said Cliff.

“Could you also tell her that I’m proud of her doing so well in school?” Claudia asked. “And tell her that I love her, and that I miss her so very much.”

“Will do,” Cliff assured her.

“Has she mentioned missing me at all?” Claudia asked.

“No,” Cliff replied. There was more silence from Claudia. The devil must have made him do it, or maybe it was just his perpetual disdain for Claudia, but he added. “The only time that she even mentions you is when she says that you care more about your boyfriends, than you do taking care of your own daughter!”

“Oh no Cliff, that’s not true!” Claudia exclaimed.

He hung up the phone before Claudia could babble some more. That was completely a lie. Cecily rarely mentioned Claudia, and when she did, it was usually pretty dark.

“Who was that?” asked Cecily as she came into the kitchen.

“No one important,” Cliff told her, as he tugged on her hair. “Are you ready for your tea?”

“Almost,” replied Cecily. “I just need to go upstairs quick, but you can wait for me out on the veranda. Does that sound okay?”

“I could just wait for you here,” said Cliff.

“But Cliff, there’s much more scope for the imagination outside,” argued Cecily. She started to usher Cliff out the door.

“Cecily, if I need more scope for my imagination I can just roll a joint,” Cliff replied. “But if it will make you happy, I’ll wait for you outside. You’re a crazy girl.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Cecily asked.

“Nah, I like it. Crazier the better,” Cliff told her.

“At least you like me,” said Cecily. “Which is more than I can say for my Mum.” Cecily to leave the room.

“Cecily,” Cliff called. He was starting to feel bad about not telling her about her Mom calling.

“Yes?” Cecily obediently replied as she turned around. “Is there anything that I can do for you?” She gave Cliff her sweetest smile.

Cecily is just too fucking sweet all of the time, Cliff thought to himself. He just couldn’t tell her that Claudia had called. What if she then decided that she wanted to go back to Denmark? Everyone did say that a child always belonged with it’s mother. He didn’t want to give Cecily back. He had gone too far, and had gotten much too attached.

“Nothing,” Cliff stammered, turning red and avoiding her eyes. “Just that uh, Glen Danzig would think that you’re really cool.”

“Really?” asked a very confused Cecily. “Are you stoned Cliff?”

“Maybe a little. Why?” asked Cliff.

“You’re acting strange,” said Cecily.

“No I’m not!” retorted Cliff.

“You won’t even look at me,” Cecily replied. “Is something wrong? Is there something that you’re not telling me?”

Cliff knew that she could sense that he wasn’t quite right. “Everything’s fine,” he told her. “I’m going to go wait for you outside. Hurry up though. I want to get this tea nonsense over with.”

Meanwhile, Emily was just arriving at Aunt Josephine’s. James actually answered the door for her. He broke out into a huge smile when he saw her. For having tea with a five-year-old, Emily was awfully gussied up. She had a pretty lacy skirt and matching top on, nice makeup, and best of all for James, nice boobs.

“Hi there darlin,” greeted James as she walked on inside. “You’re looking mighty pretty this afternoon. You get all dressed up just for Cecily?”

“Shut up James,” Emily snarled. “What are you in such a good mood for? You run over a small child or something?”

“Yep,” James replied. “I ran over Cecily. She’s squashed right under the tires of my truck.”

“You’re a pig James,” Emily quipped. “So where is she really?”

“She’s upstairs,” James answered. “You are to wait for her on the veranda.”

James led Emily out to the veranda. Cliff was not there yet, he was the last piece of the puzzle. Brunhilda had gone above and beyond her call of duty. She had set up a beautiful tea on the porch, and had lit candles, and other shit like that.

“This is an awfully nice setting for tea,” Emily thought as she waited. “She went all out. Cecily is so sweet to me.”

Just then, the door opened, but it wasn’t Cecily who came out onto the veranda. It was Cliff, and he was holding flowers.

“Emily!” he exclaimed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Cecily invited me for tea,” Emily replied. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Cliff snapped. “Cecily invited me to tea.”

“She invited me too,” said Emily. “If you want, I can leave.”

“No,” Cliff mumbled. “Stay put. When that little imp gets her ass down here, I can ask her just what the fuck she’s doing.”

Cliff had never felt so silly in his entire life. He also felt like a complete idiot holding the flowers. He threw them down in a heap on the table, and lit a cigarette.

“Any fucking going on yet?” James asked. He was now up in Cecily’s room, where they were spying on the two below with binoculars.

“They don’t seem very happy,” Cecily answered unhappily.

“Give me those!” James swiped the binoculars to take a look for himself. Cecily was putting it lightly. They both looked quite miffed. Emily sat sulking in a chair, and Cliff stood at the other end of the porch smoking a cigarette, with his back to her.

“No wonder he doesn’t get laid,” James scoffed. “Emily parading around in a little lacy number like that! I would have had that little dress off in a heartbeat!”

“Even outside on the porch?” Cecily asked.

“Nothing stops the Het,” James replied. “Anyway, they’re probably going to come in here to kick your ass soon. Go hide under the bed Cecily.”

“But I want to see them kiss,” whined Cecily.

“Trust me, they aren’t even close to kissing,” said James.

Back on the porch, Brunhilda brought out a chilled wine bucket filled with a bottle of champagne, and a few Heinekens.

“Fuck yeah,” said Cliff as he greedily reached for a Heineken. “Cecily always knows my favorites!”

“And is the champagne for Cecily?” Emily asked. “Cliff, I think this is a set up.”

Cliff spat out the beer that he was guzzling with laughter.

“Oh come on Emily. I’m in Metallica,” he laughed. “I don’t need to pretend to have a tea party just to get some babe in the sack with me.”

Emily just ignored the comment, and rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying that you made the setup,” she said. “I think Cecily set it up. It makes sense. Her wanting both of us here, the candles, the flowers, she’s conveniently not around.” Emily reached for the bottle of champagne and began to struggle popping the cork.

“And just why in the Sam heck would she do a thing like that?” Cliff asked as he opened his second Heineken. He noticed Emily struggling to open the champagne. “Let me get that,” he said as he reached for the bottle. “I’m really sorry that Cecily pulled this kind of shit,” he went on as he poured Emily a glass. "Do you want me to kick her ass?"

“Of course not!” Emily exclaimed. “I feel sorry for the girl. It was a sweet gesture. She tried.”

“I guess so,” Cliff mumbled as he went back to his beer. “I guess that she’s wanting a mom or something.”

“Hmmmm,” Emily replied as she took a sip of champagne. “Cecily’s still trying to land you dates. I guess you don’t have such an easy time getting babes in the sack after all…”
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