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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 (14,621 Views)
Shayi
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Bring me that horizon
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HAHA! Fantastic! Little Kirk Lee as a wedding planner as well! Now that is most excellent. Poor, poor Cliff though. I love the fact he views marriage as some big fucked up conspiracy, it's so perfectly right for the character you've built.

This has to be the best line for me:-

He would rather be tarred, feathered, and disemboweled than married.

The scary thing is, Elsa could probably happily arrange that, evil bitch that she is!

I wonder what on earth Aunt Josephine is going to think hearing that not only is Cliff getting married (which I really don't know if the poor chap can cope with) but her villa is going to be the venue... the woman has been put upon enough already. I get the feeling her and Cliff may need to turn to pot...

And James... good god the man is a veritable stallion.... what on earth would he do if he had to be celibate for a week!

Fantastic update, so so great. I truly love this story so much!

(And good luck with the festival, sounds awesome!)
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Simone
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Mistress of Puppets
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AWESOMEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CLIFFY AND EMILY ARE GETTING MARRIED!!!! If Cecily will find out there's no way of turning back :lol:

Still Verity,are you playing in that band or something else?? I wanna know!! And something about the concert please tell! I gathered my own band as well and would appreciate if you tell us how everything is going on a tour :P

This chapter made my heart skip a beat! :nanner: I can't wait to see them married!!!! But...what about Claudia? If she hears that Emily will be Cecily's new mother,I don't think she'd agree :ugh: it's all up to Verity :D
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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I had a lot of time to write, being stuck in the car with shitty ass traffic backups. It sucked ass. Plus, everyone is either sick or depressed, so it was a long, boring, silent ride. I was also told no headbanging in the front seat. I guess it makes my friend dizzy. So it was either sit like a lump for 12 hours or work on this fanfic.

This chapter isn’t very good. I think it’s the rain, and everybody is pissy.

That's cool you play in a band Simone. I do to, I guess. :P




Chapter 93- Cecily Gets the Truth

“Here, take it back,” Emily said as she slipped Cliff’s skull ring off of her finger, and pressed it into his hand.

“Gladly,” Cliff replied as he slid the ring back on his finger where it belonged.

“It’s filthy. You need to clean it,” said Emily.

Thelma, Elsa, and Holly (though she would probably pop up at the villa later) had just left, though they were going to come by in a week to see if Cecily had found Jesus yet, and to see how the wedding went. Cliff and Emily trooped out to the kitchen.

“This is so exciting,” said Kirk as he danced into the kitchen right behind them. “I think your wedding colors should be lilac and ivory.”

“Kirk, there’s not going to be any wedding colors,” said Cliff as he opened up a fresh box of nicotine patches. He was going through them as if they were going out of style.

“But why?” Kirk asked. “Everybody picks out their wedding colors.”

“There’s not going to be any wedding Kirk,” replied Emily. “It’s pretend. We aren’t really engaged.”

“I think that we should call up your mother and tell her anyway,” said Aunt Josephine to Cliff. “She’d have a heart attack. It would be so funny.”

“Yeah, she’d shit,” Cliff agreed. “It might be fun to fuck with her. Especially, since she thinks that I can’t quit smoking. I haven’t had a cigarette in two days. I’m totally kicking the habit.”

“With the help of a shit load of nicotine patches,” put in Emily. Cliff flipped her off.

Cecily burst into the room. “Is it true?” she asked as she ran to Cliff. “I so hope so. Mr. James says that you and Miss Emily are getting married.”

“It’s not true Sweetheart,” said Cliff.

Cecily’s face fell. “But I prayed for it,” she moaned. “I even learned that prayer card that nasty old bitch gave me.”

“Yeah, well as a kid I’ve prayed for lots of shit too,” said Cliff. “When I was twelve, I had this one sickly marijuana plant and I was trying so hard to nurture it to health. I kept it on my desk in my bedroom where I fed and watered it, and even prayed for it every fucking night.”

“Did you grow lots of weed from it?” asked Cecily.

“No,” Cliff quipped bitterly. “It fucking shriveled up and died. Fucker.”

“So there’s not going to be any wedding ceremony?” Cecily asked sadly.

“Not with me and Cliff there isn’t,” Emily replied.

“But you’d look so pretty,” Cecily argued. She looked towards Cliff. “Don’t you think that Miss Emily would look beautiful in a wedding gown?”

“Yeah,” Cliff nodded as he opened up another box of nicotine patches. “But she’d look much more beautiful naked, with nothing except maybe those pasty things on.”

“You’re a pig Cliff!” Emily snapped.

“Well then,” Cliff retorted. “It’s a good thing that you don’t have to really marry me now isn’t it? You’ll only have to pretend to be my wife when Social Services come around, and in front of my Mom. We have to video tape her reaction. She’ll shit a brick. Maybe she’ll even buy us a toaster, and barware, and shit. We could split it between the two of us.”

“I can think of many easier ways to get myself a toaster,” shot Emily. “Why’d you have to go so far for? Couldn’t you just leave it as girlfriend? What if they ask to see a marriage certificate?”

“Don’t blame me!” Cliff squawked as he popped open a beer. “It’s that fucking Elsa bitch. She wasn’t going to drop it. She wants Cecily to have a Mom.”

“I want one too,” sighed Cecily wistfully. “Mr. Burton, why can’t you marry Miss Emily?”

“Cecily, that’s enough!” Cliff scolded. “I’m not a marrying man. That oppressive bullshit just isn’t for me. It’s not how I roll. And even if I was the marrying type, I sure wouldn’t marry Emily.”

Emily glared at Cliff. She couldn’t help but be offended. What a rude, nasty, and totally uncalled for thing to say. She had bent over backwards to help Cliff keep Cecily.

“I wouldn’t marry you either,” she snapped. “Emily Burton yuck! And just for the record, if you ever do find some chick insane enough to marry you, don’t purpose to her with a skull ring.”

“Why the hell not?” Cliff asked as he finished his beer.

“Because,” Emily replied. “It’s tacky.”


***

“Later that night Cliff was in his room, getting ready for bed. Usually, this consisted of listening to a tape of Bach partitas, and smoking his bedtime joint, but he was trying to cut back on his weed intake as well. It was rough, especially after such a shitty day. He wanted nothing more than to take a couple of hits and forget about Emily, and that little Kirk weasel.

“First and foremost, I’m a friend to Kirk,” Cliff reminded himself as he polished off another beer, and added the empty bottle to the collection on his bedside table. Since he had quit smoking, his alcohol intake had increased. There was a knock at his door. It was probably Lars. He had been coming by Cliff’s room every night to pick up weed.

“Go the fuck away Lars, you nasty ball sack!” Cliff snarled through the closed door.

“It’s me Mr. Burton!” Cecily’s a little voice cried. “Please don’t send me away.”

Cliff sighed and opened the bedroom door. Cecily was standing in her nightgown, holding his old, decrepit, teddy bear.

“You know my door is always open for you Cess, unless I’m practicing bass,” Cliff told her as he invited her in. “But what the hell are you doing out of bed? You have school tomorrow.”

Cecily buried her face in Cliff’s nasty teddy bear. It was missing it’s nose. “I couldn’t sleep,” she whimpered.

“Did Kirk give you vodka and 7-up like I asked him to?” Cliff asked as he flopped back down on his bed.

Cecily shook her head. “No, but he gave me hot chocolate.”

“He’s such a tard,” Cliff sighed. “You don’t fucking give a kid hot chocolate before bed. The sugar only riles them.”

“Don’t blame Mr. Kirk,” said Cecily as she plopped down at Cliff’s vanity table, which was covered with baggies of weed, rolling papers, a cigarette lighter, and Q-tips. “I have a lot on my mind right now,” she sighed as she grabbed a rolling paper.

“Oh yeah?” Cliff snorted. “Like what? Iowa? The Bay of Shining Waters? The next rainbow thing that you’re going to make me wear?”

Cecily frowned. “I don’t see why you won’t marry Miss Emily,” she moped. She opened up one of the many sandwich bags of weed that adorned Cliff’s dresser, and began to evenly disperse some of it onto the rolling paper.”

“Cecily, I quit smoking because of you, and I’m trying to fucking adopt you,” Cliff snapped. “I think that I’ve done quite enough for your benefit. I already told you, I’m not a marrying type. Now quit fucking pestering me!”

“I’m sorry,” Cecily sighed as she used a pencil to help roll up her joint so that it was symmetrically perfect. “I guess that I’m just missing my Mum.”

“Why would you be missing that piece of shit for?” Cliff asked feeling a little hurt. “She treats you like dirt.”

“Because every girl needs a mother,” said Cecily. She proudly admired the joint she had just rolled, and then held it up to Cliff. “Want this?” she asked. “I made it just for you, and it’s not even rainbow colored.”

Cliff had to smile as he took the joint and examined it. He let out a low whistle. “Damn it Cecily Virginia!” he exclaimed. “You are my daughter! Sometimes I could just swear that five years ago I must have gotten severely drunk and stoned, flown over to Denmark, impregnated your mother, and then flown back home.”

He fished around his night table for a lighter. Yeah, he was trying to cut back on pot, but Cecily had made it for him. He lit the joint. “I couldn’t have done better myself,” he said as he took a hit.

“Well I have watched you do it enough times,” admitted Cecily, as she climbed up next to Cliff, and laid her head in his lap. She sat there silently, as Cliff took a couple of hits.

“I love you Cecily,” he gushed as he buried his face in her hair. Good. He was stoned. Cecily could begin to work her magic.

“Mr. Burton,” she began.

“You don’t have to fucking call me that when Elsa’s not around,” Cliff told her. “Makes me sound like a high school history teacher. You can call me Dad if you like. I don’t mind anymore. Fuck it.”

“I’d like that,” Cecily replied. She watched Cliff take another hit. The more hits the better. She had been quite generous with the weed when she had rolled it. “Daddy,” she said sweetly.

“Yes Princess,” Cliff returned, now feeling very laid back and chilled.

“Don’t you think that Miss Emily is pretty?” Cecily asked.

Cliff let out a trail of smoke. “No,” he replied. “She’s not pretty. She’s fucking gorgeous. There should be laws against looking that good, you know.”

“Why don’t you ask her out?” asked Cecily. “Like on a date.”

“Because she’s getting cock from the Hamster,” Cliff replied. “Hamster is my friend. Never sleep with your friend’s man Cecily Virginia. It will only fuck everything up.”

“Okay,” nodded Cecily. “If Miss Emily wasn’t with Mr. Kirk would you date her?”

“I would,” said Cliff thoughtfully as he took another hit. “But I don’t know if she’d have me or not. I’m not handsome, and I don’t smell nice.”

“I think that you smell nice,” said Cecily.

“Thanks Sweetie,” rambled Cliff as he ruffled Cecily’s hair over her eyes. “You can tell all the pretty ladies that.”

“Daddy,” Cecily went on. “Say that you were the marrying type, and that Miss Emily didn’t like Mr. Kirk. Would you marry her then?”

Cliff looked thoughtful as he took the very last hit from Cecily’s joint. He’d have to get the kid to roll him joints more often. “Sure,” he finally replied.

“Really?” Cecily asked, her eyes brightening.

“Yeah,” Cliff nodded. “I certainly would.”

That was all that Cecily needed to know. Still, she was a curious girl. “Why?” she asked.

“Because,” Cliff said as he held Cecily close and began to drift off into a pot induced sleep. “I’m in love with her…”
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Raedoll
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Cliff loves her that should be enough! He's only saying those things because he thinks she's getting with Kirk! That's not fair ;_;...they're perfect for one another. I wish that Emily and Cliff would stop being such blind dumb dumbs and open up their eyes a freaking fraction of an inch and see that they're PERFECT for one another. BLAH. :( I love this but I'm so torn on how to React. Aunt Josephine and Cliff talking about how Jan would shit a brick is funny. Whenever I get astounded by something I say, "Well shit me a brick." and whoever happens to be around me (I only say this when not around my sister or parents) cracks up.
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Simone
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WOOOOOOOOWWWWW!!!!!!! Dayum! that kid is evil!!!! I bet james taught her that! :lol:

Greeeeeeaaat!!!!!And her evil plan is to brainwash emily and make her marry Cliffy boy!

Verity...what do you play? Like bass,guitar,...? :biggrin I'm desperately in the need of a bassist (girl) too bad the bus ride was so bad :( buy some beer and then you'll all be cheered up :lol:
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MissMetallica;;
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aww he really does love her. and i congratulate cecily on sucking that information right out of him. she really has that man wrapped around her little finger!
she's definately cliff's little girl when she knows how to roll a perfect joint. :lol:

i hope it is all getting a bit better now ashley, and everyone isnt in such pissy moods. :(

fab writing!!
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Thanks so much everyone!
I might not get to update for a couple days. I might or might not have internet.

Things are much better. I had one of the most amazing days today and I'm very happy right now. I feel like a lot of hard work as paid off, and I'm very content with life right now. :dance :dance

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Raedoll
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Verity
Sep 16 2007, 03:53 AM
Thanks so much everyone!
I might not get to update for a couple days. I might or might not have internet.

Things are much better. I had one of the most amazing days today and I'm very happy right now. I feel like a lot of hard work as paid off, and I'm very content with life right now. :dance :dance

I'm glad to hear you're doing okay now, that's nice to hear. But YOU DAMNED FAKED US OUT. Bleh. lol.
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Shayi
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Cecily really is awake upon every suit isn't she? I love how she rolls the perfect joint - that really made me chuckle! And I'm glad that now she can begin to plot and plan to get Cliff and Emily together...I think Cliff needs Emily. And Emily, well, I'm sure she can tolerate Cliff ;) So that's most excellent.

I loved where you put in the part about the pot plant Cliff prayed for each night that shrivelled up and died... it's bits like that that really round out the story, give it background. So good.

And in a more silly way, I giggled at 'That's not how I roll'. This is simply because my younger bro has been in the habit lately of saying (whenever asked why he does something) 'That's how I roll'. Just makes me laugh!

I'm glad that things are getting better for you and you're happier! I hope that things continue in that way and you have a great time :)
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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I have to be quick. I'm at a quick stop but here's the next stop. Now for more driving yay!!!!
Nah, honestly the driving is worth it.

And thank you so much for sticking with me.


Chapter 94- Another Crazy Random Chapter

Kirk Lee Hammett breezed into his mother’s sunny kitchen (since now it’s convenient for me to have Kirk back at his mom’s) that very next morning. The smell of baked cinnamon apples filled the room.
Kirk plopped down at the table, and opened up his mint green hat box. The hat box served as Kirk’s “craft” box, and kept all sorts of wonderful things such as ribbons, beads, colored construction paper, lace, glue, scissors, paint, and yarn together while Kirk was on the road. Kirk would amuse himself for hours on long bus rides through never ending states such as Illinois, Tennessee, and Iowa, by working on crafts for people. At the moment, he was already working on Christmas presents for his friends. He had hand made a strawberry pincushion stuffed with sawdust for James, and a birdhouse made from a milk carton covered with popsicle sticks for Lars. For Cecily, he was working on a light blue silk cape for her doll (which was left in Denmark anyway) and for Cliff he was originally making a Misfits cross stitch, but Lars had crumpled it, so he’d have to think of something else. However today, he wasn’t working on Christmas presents, he was going to make Cliff and Emily’s “gag” wedding invitation to send to Cliff’s mother.
Kirk had been rather disappointed when he had found out that there wasn’t really going to be any wedding ceremony. At least Aunt Josephine said that he could make one invitation to send to Cliff’s parents. He carefully cut a heart shaped piece of lavender paper, and with a calligraphy pen he scripted

You are the mostest of most cordially invited to the Wedding Ceremony of Clifford L. Burton and Emily A. Watkins, Saturday, November 30, 1985 at three-thirty in the afternoon, at the Northshore Winery. RSVP

Kirk bit his lip as he meticulously dabbed little dabs of glue around the heart’s edges, so that he could stick lace to it.

“Kirk Lee!” Mrs. Hammett bellowed as she came into the kitchen to check on her baking apples. “I wasn’t expecting to see you home today. I thought that you were staying with Cliff’s Aunt.”

“I was,” Kirk replied as he gently pressed lace to the edge of the heart. “But I had to come back home to do laundry.”

“You mean for me to do your laundry,” his mother corrected him.

Kirk grinned up at his mother as he selected a stunning golden ribbon to tie onto the top of the heart. “You always do a much better job of doing my laundry than Ernestine ever does,” he said. “Ernestine doesn’t put sprigs of lavender powder in her wash, and she doesn’t iron my pillow cases.”

“I really think that you deserve someone better Kirk Lee,” said Mrs. Hammett as she took her apples out of the oven. “Like what about that Emily girl?”

“I don’t think that Emily irons pillow cases either,” said Kirk as he blew on the invitation in order to get the glue to dry faster.

“She’s a nice girl though,” said Mrs. Hammett.

“She is,” Kirk agreed. “So, will you do my laundry?”

“On the condition that you have at least two of these,” Mrs. Hammett replied as she started to arrange the baked apples on a plate for Kirk. “You’re so gaunt and thin. Doesn’t Cliff’s Aunt ever feed you?”

“That’s all that she does,” said Kirk. “I’m really not that hungry right now. Brunhilda made Belgian waffles for breakfast this morning with whipped cream and real maple syrup from Vermont in a little tin jar.”

“I’ll fix you a sandwich dear,” Mrs. Hammett replied and tugged on one of her son’s whirly curls. “Why don’t you bring me your laundry, and I’ll throw it in for you.”

“Yes mother,” replied Kirk. He obediently got up from the kitchen table leaving his opened hat box and wedding invitation out on the table. He flounced off towards his bedroom.

Mrs. Hammett retrieved a tray of deli meats from the refrigerator and began to work on fixing Kirk his favorite sandwich: turkey with Swiss cheese, pickles, sprouts, and extra mustard on wheat. As she reached over the kitchen table for a butter knife, she accidentally bumped Kirk’s hat box causing a spool of rose colored silk ribbon to unravel out onto the table.

“Oh dear,” she sighed. “My little Kirk Lee is again working on something. Perhaps it’s a Christmas gift for me.” She knew that she shouldn’t look at whatever he had been working on, it might ruin her surprise, but as she went to pick up the ribbon, she couldn’t help but glance down at the lace trimmed lavender heart. The name Clifford L. Burton caught her eye. Mrs. Hammett frowned at the heart as she picked it up to have a closer look.

“Wedding ceremony!” Mrs. Hammett gasped in a combination of horror and shock as she read the invitation. Emily had been staying at Kirk’s house, but even she didn’t know Kirk well enough to go off and marry him. She had to know Cliff even less. It didn’t make any sense! And such a quick wedding? They were less than a week away, barely time to even send out invitations! Maybe Cliff had gotten her pregnant. Whether or not that was the case, Mrs. Hammett didn’t care. She felt that Emily was perfect for her son, and her son deserved the best.

“Hey Mom,” Kirk said happily as he breezed into the kitchen carrying a laundry basket under his arm. Mrs. Hammett’s face was ghastly white. “What’s wrong Mama?” he asked.

“Nothing Kirk Lee,” replied Mrs. Hammett as she discretely placed the wedding invitation back down on the table. “I’m going to bake you a cocoa butter cake.” She finished making Kirk’s sandwich and roughly slid it across the table to him.

“Thanks Mom,” said Kirk as he sat down to try and stuff the sandwich down his already full stomach. “You really don’t have to bake me a cake though. I’ve been eating tons, honest.”

“Don’t talk back to me Kirk Lee,” Mrs. Hammett snapped as she angrily began to smash eggs over the side of her mixing bowl.

At that moment, Emily came into the kitchen looking bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“Good morning,” she greeted as she put on the tea kettle for her morning tea.

“Hey Emily,” Kirk piped up from behind his sandwich. “I’m thinking about making Cliff a hand stuffed sachet to keep in his duffel bag while we’re out on the road. It would be a rather useful gift, because then his shirts wouldn’t get so stinky.”

“The only way that Cliff would actually use it is if you stuff it with weed,” replied Emily.

“You’re right,” Kirk sighed. Cliff was so difficult to make presents for. What do you make for someone who spends their free time doing nothing but reading, drinking, and getting stoned? Kirk cross stitched him a bookmark last year, and Cliff had lost it a week after Christmas. He was so difficult.

Mrs. Hammett glared at Emily. “How are you feeling this morning Emily?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” said Emily.

“You’re not feeling sick are you?” Mrs. Hammett asked.

“Not at all,” Emily responded, looking at Mrs. Hammett quizzically. “Is something wrong?”

Mrs. Hammett stared at Emily. She didn’t look like she had morning sickness or anything. The whole situation was very strange. She glanced at Emily’s fingers. Emily had on no ring. Cliff was too cheap to even buy her a ring. Emily totally deserved so much better.

“No,” Mrs. Hammett replied. “Nothing is wrong at all.” She went back to working on her cake. Baking always helped her think, and she just had to come up with some way to stop that wedding.

***
Cecily arrived home from school that afternoon. Metallica was busy doing some demo recording for their album in Josephine’s totally kick-ass phenomenal basement, and they were not to be disturbed. That was okay because she had to work on her presentation on Iowa. She was determined to give the best presentation possible. She’d show Peter Jeffries and Mandie. Mandie still wasn’t speaking to her. They had had a bad fight that very afternoon on the playground.

“I don’t talk to stupid people,” Mandie had said.

“Go fuck yourself,” said Cecily as she flipped her off in Cliff fashion.

“What?” Mandie had asked. “What does fuck mean?”

“Now who’s the stupid one,” Cecily had shot, and had went running off towards the monkey bars. Though deep down inside, she wasn’t quite sure what “fuck” meant either. She’d have to ask Cliff sometime.

Cecily shut the door to the den to try and block out some of the noise coming up from downstairs. Lars sounded particularly loud today on the drums. They were working on The Leper Messiah and James was just shrieking at the top of his lungs. Somewhere from under all of the madness, Cliff’s metronome clicked vigilantly.

“They’re off with that metronome again,” Cecily sighed to herself as she sat down at the desk to work on her report. She heard James screech

“Cliff! Turn that fucking thing off!” Then she heard the metronome slam against the basement and shatter once again.

“Fuck you, you dick!” Cliff squawked.

Cecily smiled and shook her head as she opened up her notebook to look at her notes on Iowa. They ranged from everything from corn to prairie settlers, Laura, western expansion, Wendy, a lady in a wheelchair that Cliff claimed to have banged down in Davenport, and Carol’s Kitchen, a diner that Kirk claimed had the best cornbread in the world. For some reason, she thought that she should leave Laura, Wendy, and Carol’s Kitchen, out of her report.

Cecily worked quietly for about forty-five minutes trying to ignore Lars’s drumming, James’s snarling, Cliff’s metronome (which they were off with again) and Kirk’s squeals and whimpers from each time that Lars and James bitched him out. Finally, she set down her pen, sighed, and gazed out the window. She couldn’t help but randomly wonder what her mother was up to right now. Was her mother thinking about her? Did she miss her? Did she even still remember her?

Cecily stared at the phone that was sitting on the desk in front of her. She knew that she should probably get permission before making a long distance international call, but she was pretty sure that Josephine wouldn’t mind. After all, Lars had been making calls to Denmark all week, and James had even called a courtesan in Paris the other day.

Cecily took her address book out of her backpack, and looked up the number for the Hotel Iroquois (because all five-year-olds are savvy when it comes to making international phone calls).

“Hello,” Cecily said into the phone once a front desk clerk answered. “May I please speak with Claudia Mickelson please? It’s her daughter.”

“I never knew that Claudia had a daughter,” replied the front desk clerk. “I slept with her last week, and she never mentioned one.”

“I’m used to that,” Cecily replied, feeling very, very, sad. Obviously her mother hadn’t been missing her very much. She fought to hold back a few tears. “Can I speak with her please?”

“You could,” said the desk clerk. “But she doesn’t work here anymore.”

“What?” Cecily squeaked.

“She quit a few days ago,” answered the desk clerk. “She wanted to try something new.”

“Did she leave a number or anything?” Cecily asked.

“Nope. She left nothing,” said the desk clerk. “She never told me where she was heading off to. Would you like to book a room?”

“No thank you,” answered Cecily, as she put down the phone. She was devastated. Sure, Claudia had been a terrible mother, but she had never flat out abandoned Cecily, and now she had. If Social Services didn’t let her stay with Cliff, she would surely be sent off to live with strangers now. Perhaps Cecily had offended her mother by jetting off to San Francisco, but just because she was now living with Cliff, didn’t mean that Cecily never wanted to see her mom again, but obviously Claudia felt differently…
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Shayi
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Bring me that horizon
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Arrr me hearty, 'tis a terrible thing fer a little girl ter have ter hear about 'er mother! What an evil wench that Claudia be! (But I be most impressed by Cecily bein' savvy enough ter use a phone book!). That Claudia deserves keelhaulin' an' if I 'ad anythin' ter do wi' it, the landlubber'd meet 'er end!

I would love ter read Cess's report on Iowa - sounds like it be full o' wenchin' an' other piratical style practices. Fer landlubbers them Metallica dogs be damned good men!

I ain't too 'appy wi' Kirk Lee's mum. She be a feisty ol' salt, an' I see she be lookin' out fer 'er son... but she needs ter stop 'er interferin' ways! 'owever, she do seem like the only sort o' woman ye be needin' aboard ship - one who can be cookin' up all manner o' good food!

As fer Emily - she be a feisty wench an' I like 'er observation about Cliff not usin' the bag unless it be stuffed wi' weed! Arr tis a true observation! (An' I'd like ter get me 'ands on Kirk's craft box, it sounds as if it be full o' all sorts o' goodies!).

Aye, I be lookin' forward ter the next episode - I'd like ter see what Cliff 'as ter say about what Claudia's done. This 'ere yarn gets better an' better as it goes along - an' I can't stop readin' it!


(An' I don't be takin' the piss - 'tis Talk Like A Pirate Day today an' I be doin' me best ter uphold it!)
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MissMetallica;;
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Poor Twisted Me
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yarrgghh
this chapter was great. sometimes i forget the little cecily is only 5 years old and mistake her for a 15 year old. she's just so mature for her age :P
kirk is such a sweetie.. making that invitation to trick mrs. burton into thinking there really IS a wedding. and mrs. hammett, she'd better not screw things up with social services because she wants emily and kirk together.

i have a feeling that claudia is on her way over to san fransisco to see cess. but thats just a feeling :P i could be completely WRONG! (which i most likely am :P)
cant wait for more :D
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Shayi- That was totally awesome having a review typed up in real pirate talk. Most impressive. It made me smile. I want to make pretty things out of Kirk’s craft box too.
He can make me a pincushion too!!

Kristen- You’re right. Cecily does act older than five. I don’t know much about five-year-olds, so that’s probably why her character’s age seems older. Oh well, at least she can use the telephone. And I’m not sure where Claudia is either.

Sorry for the delay. I’ve had little time to write because I’ve had to do some of the driving since my husband who usually does it passed a kidney stone and is cracked out on Vicodan. I think he can start driving again soon, because I’m a shitty, shitty, shitty, driver. The only reason that I finished this chapter was I was kicked out of the driver’s seat because everyone was getting nauseous (that’s how terrible I drive) so I was banished to the back seat. Which is a good thing because we’re coming up in New York City during rush hour, and I really shouldn’t be the one driving through all of that shit. And I don’t know why I just told y’all that.

Chapter 95- Dinner for Two
That evening there was an extremely rare event that went on at Aunt Josephine’s household: Cliff and Cecily were the only ones at dinner. Kirk’s mom had ordered her little Kirk Lee home, and Lars was having dinner over at Amy’s house since she insisted that he meet her mass population of brothers and sisters.
“She just won’t get it through her focking head,” Lars had said as he squirmed into an even tighter pair of black spandex jeans for the event. “I want to see her, not her focking sisters.”
James had a seven o’clock dinner date with Holly, and then a nine-thirty movie date with Philippa.

“Must you go James?” Cliff had asked. He was really hoping to have one of his trusty guy friends around to hang out with. Maybe they could play a game of pool together or something.

“The puss is calling me,” James replied as threw on a denim shirt with ripped sleeves. Cliff frowned, and sulked making his bottom lip quiver, a trick that he had learned from Cecily. Unfortunately in Cliff’s case it didn’t work. “Don’t worry Cliffy,’ James replied as he gave his bassist buddy a slap on the back. “You can have whoever I don’t bring home.”

“I don’t think that Philippa would have anything to do with me, and I really don’t think that it’s in my best interest to screw someone from Social Services,” Cliff answered glumly.

“Maybe not, but it sure as hell is in my best interest,” said James. He playfully smacked Cliff upside the head, grabbed a bottle of beer for the road, and flounced out the door.

Just then, Aunt Josephine walked by with a depressed looking Cecily trailing behind her. Josephine looked radiant. She was dressed in a long, dark blue evening dress, and was working on putting in a pair of diamond, dangly, earrings.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Cliff snarled, ornery that even Aunt Josephine seemed to have a more happening social life than he did these days.

“I’m a grown woman and it’s really none of your business where I’m going,” Aunt Josephine replied as she stood in front of the parlor mirror so that she could put her earrings in. “But if you must know, I’m going out with Arnie tonight. He got us box seats to the opera.”

“Doesn’t Aunt Josephine look beautiful?” Cecily asked as she admired Josephine’s pretty evening dress.

“Fuck off Cess,” Cliff snapped. “You think that everyone looks beautiful.”

“I don’t think that you look beautiful,” Cecily replied with a shrug.

“You little turd!” Cliff shot. He reached out and playfully grabbed Cecily by the hair. Cecily let out a shriek. He began to madly tickle her stomach, and usually this sent her into hysterics. But today, she pulled away from him.

“Stop it Cliff!” she demanded.

“Jesus Cecily!” Cliff snarled. “What the fuck is your problem? Have a cat up your ass?”

“Children!” Aunt Josephine barked. “Enough! Now can I count on you two to behave while I’m gone?”

“Absolmotherfuckinglutely,” Cliff replied as he glanced at Cecily out of the corner of his eye. For some reason, she looked near tears. She usually loved it when he said that.

“That sounds encouraging,” Josephine sighed as she rolled her eyes at Cliff’s choice of French. “Since it’s just you two, Brunhilda will make whatever you want for dinner.”

“Enchiladas with her beef chimichangas and array of dipping sauces of course,” said Cliff.

So Cliff and Cecily had the dining room to themselves. For some reason, Cecily still seemed to be in a funk that night. She hardly spoke.

If she wasn’t banging the Hamster, I could have at least invited Emily over for dinner Cliff thought as he stabbed his chimichanga with his fork. Then maybe I would be the one who gets to go play in the hot tub for a change.

Cliff let out a sigh as he lethargically dipped a chimichanga in ranchero sauce. He noticed that Cecily’s plate of food sat untouched. Didn’t that fucking kid eat anything?

“Don’t fucking tell me that you don’t like chimichangas either Cess,” Cliff growled at her. “You can’t be my daughter and not eat chimichangas. It’s not how Cliffy rolls.”

Cecily delicately poked one of the chimichangas with her fork. She liked chimichangas and enchiladas very much actually. She just didn’t have much appetite tonight. After all, her mother had disappeared, and didn’t even care enough to tell her own daughter where she had went.

“I’m in the depths of despair,” Cecily sighed wistfully. She pathetically dipped her pinky finger in her cup of cheese sauce, and licked it.

“You’re always in the depths of despair,” Cliff hissed. “Every time that I go and take a shit, you’re in the depths of despair. Try going a month without getting any puss. Then we can talk about being in the depths of despair.”

“But Daddy,” said Cecily. “I’ve never had any puss.”

“You’re right,” Cliff sighed. “Try not getting any puss and having to quit smoking on top of it. Now that’s the depths of despair.”

Cecily burst into tears right there at the dinner table.

“Cecily chill out,” Cliff said as he got up at once to go and console the crying girl. “I’m just feeling horny and crotchety. I was just fucking around with you. I didn’t mean it. ”

“It’s not you,” Cecily cried. “It’s my Mum. She’s not at the hotel anymore.”

“How do you know that?” Cliff demanded.

“I called looking for her,” Cecily replied. “They said that she was gone.”

Cliff frowned. He didn’t like it that Cecily had gone behind his back to call Claudia. In his mind, she didn’t need Claudia. She had him, and she had Miss Emily. Claudia needed to go take a hike.

“You really shouldn’t have done that without my permission Cecily,” he said sternly.

“I’m sorry,” Cecily sobbed. “I was just missing her so.”

“Why?” Cliff asked. “I know that she’s your mom and all, but the woman fucked you in the ass Cess.”

“I just want a mother!” Cecily lamented as she laid her head down on the table.

Cliff just stared at her. He wasn’t sure what to say. In truth, he was relieved and overjoyed that Claudia had flown the coop. Now he didn’t have to worry about Social Services handing Cecily back over to her. She was a problem that was now gone, and he felt like celebrating, though Cecily obviously didn’t feel that way.

“I’m sorry Cess,” he finally said. “I’m sorry that I can’t seem to pick up a chick to be a nice mom for you.”

“You could pick one up!” Cecily snapped. “You just won’t do it because when you’re not stoned, you’re too pigheaded and obnoxious to realize that you’re in love.”

“That’s enough Cecily,” scolded Cliff. Their private little dinner wasn’t going very well at all. “I’m not in love with anyone, except for Geezer Butler.”

“What about Emily,” Cecily mumbled.

“Fuck Emily!” Cliff shot.

“I wish you would,” Cecily cried.

“Cecily!” Cliff squealed. He watched as the poor little girl’s tiny frame heaved up and down as she sobbed. Was she really this upset about losing Claudia? Claudia was a waste of space. She shouldn’t care so much. Big deal, the slut ran off with some dude somewhere. It was in Cecily’s best interest that Claudia stayed the fuck away from her anyway.

“I can’t talk to you, and I don’t even have Mandie to go and talk to,” Cecily moaned.

“What the fuck is wrong with Mandie?” Cliff asked.

“She hates me,” Cecily cried. “She thinks I’m dumb, so I told her to go fuck off.”

“Great,” Cliff sighed as he put his arm around Cecily. “Now I’ll have Mandie’s mother calling me, and her mom is a bitch.”

“I thought that Mandie was my friend,” said Cecily. “She’s all over my ass for not knowing where the fuck Iowa is.”

“Watch the rough language Cess,” Cliff scolded. “You don’t work in the shipyards. I think that Mandie is just a little jealous is all.”

“Jealous?” Cecily squeaked. “Why would she be jealous? She has not one but two parents that adore her, and she lives in a beautiful home, and she has honey blonde hair. I would sell my soul to Dave Mustaine himself for honey blonde hair.”

“Don’t let Lars and James hear you talking like that,” Cliff replied. “I think that she’s jealous because you do much more grownup things. You’re not like most five-year-olds Cess.”

“Why not?” Cecily asked sadly.

“Not too many five-year-olds say words like “fuck” and can roll a perfect joint,” Cliff told her. “Fuck, I was still pissing the bed when I was five.”

“It’s not that hard to figure out how to roll a joint Daddy,” said Cecily innocently as he poked at her chimichanga with her fork.

“No, but the joint you rolled for me the other night was quite impressive,” said Cliff as he popped open another can of Beck’s and took a long swig. “You’ve also been through a lot of shit. Your Mom left you alone a lot, so you had to fend for yourself, and it’s that kind of shit that makes you seem more grownup. People trust you to do more important and grownup things. I mean, you even managed to get your ass on a plane to San Francisco first class without paying for it.”

“That’s because I didn’t want you to leave,” said Cecily. She looked up at Cliff. “Are you still mad at me for getting on that plane?”

“Not in the least Sweetie,” Cliff replied as he finished off his Beck’s and dove into another one. He took Cecily into his lap. “I know that you sometimes think that you can’t talk to me about your Mom, but you can. I’m sorry that she left without telling you where she was going. Perhaps she’s trying out a new job, and when she gets more settled she’ll call you.”

“I just would like to know that she loves me,” Cecily sighed. “And that she’s not angry with me for leaving her.”

“You didn’t leave her Cecily,” Cliff replied as he fiddled with one of his nicotine patches. “She left you along time ago, and you just went out to get yourself a better life. Now eat your fucking food. I know I sound like Kirk, but I’m beginning to think that Cecilys don’t eat anything at all. After dinner, I’ll help you give the best fucking report on Iowa that has been given ever.”

“Are you going to invite that chick in the wheelchair that you banged back in Davenport to come and talk to my class?” asked Cecily as she took a very dainty bite of her chimichanga.

“Nah,” Cliff sighed. “She’s not too thrilled with the likes of me because I banged her, and then left without saying anything.”

“Good,” Cecily replied as she forced down another bite of chimichanga. “I don’t think that Miss Stacy would appreciate me bringing a whore into her classroom, even if she is in a wheelchair. I was thinking about bringing in corn for the class to eat.”

Cliff made a face. “I hate corn. Shit tastes nasty.”

“Oh yes, me too,” said Cecily.

“But I don’t hate popcorn,” said Cliff. “We’ll pop up a huge-ass cauldron of popcorn for you to take to school tomorrow for your presentation. Now that will shove the cattle prod up Peter Jeffries and Mandie’s ass.”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Cecily exclaimed, finally for the first time that day brightening. The students had been bringing in all sorts of food for the class to sample, and now she had something fun to bring in as well.

“You going to eat that last chimichanga?” Cliff asked. He pointed to the one, lonely, chimichanga that sat untouched on Cecily’s plate.

Cecily shook her head.

“Can I have it?” Cliff asked.

“Of course,” Cecily slid her plate towards Cliff. “You can have my ranchero sauce too.” She nudged her small little cup of sauce over towards him as well.

“Thanks. You rock Cess,” said Cliff as he grabbed the chimichanga.

“No, you rock,” answered Cecily. “Mr. James is nice, and he’s very funny, and he’s a master in bed, but you’re much better at helping me out with my homework.”

“That’s because I’m a lot smarter than he is,” Cliff replied as he licked ranchero sauce off of his fingers. “Shall we go to the kitchen and figure out how to make popcorn?” he asked.

Cecily nodded, and followed Cliff into the kitchen. They were just about to go through the kitchen door when Cliff put his hands on his hips, and whirled around to face Cecily.

“Tell me one thing,” he said. “Just how in the Sam hell do you know that Mr. James is a master in bed?”

“Because,” said Cecily. “That’s just common knowledge…”
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Raluque
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Poor Twisted Me
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“Tell me one thing,” he said. “Just how in the Sam hell do you know that Mr. James is a master in bed?”

“Because,” said Cecily. “That’s just common knowledge…”


that was soooooooo goood!!! loved it!

sorry about your hubby. that must hurt like hell!

i'm happy you didn't get to drive much though. made you write an awesome update :P cess being so mature for her age and her and cliff getting along so well just made my day again. thank you!


please update soon!
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The Story Girl
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Thanks Raluque- I'm happy that you are still reading this. I don't have to do much more driving because my hubby is better. So that's a very good thing. :dance :dance





Chapter 96-Surprises



Cliff had just returned from dropping Cecily and her basket of popcorn off at school.

“Knock ‘em dead Cess,” he told her as he gave her a quick hug. “And if Mandie doesn’t want to be your friend just because she doesn’t like your report on Iowa, she can go to hell.”

“Thanks so much for helping me Daddy. I love you,” Cecily replied, and flounced off towards the school clutching her basket of popcorn close. Since she couldn’t talk about Metallica’s sex escapades to the class, she’d need the popcorn to make her presentation more interesting.

Cliff plopped himself down in his bedroom, and was just about to start tuning up his bass when the phone rang.

“James! Lars! Aunt Jo!” Cliff bellowed. “Answer the fucking phone!”

The only answer that he received was a “Fuck you Clifford!” from Aunt Josephine, and a moan of pleasure from James’s room.

“Fucking Brunhilda gets paid to answer the phone and she never does it,” Cliff grumbled as he made his way over to his night table, where he picked up the phone. “Burton residence this is Cliff speaking. To whom may I direct your call?” he said.

“Clifford,” said a familiar voice on the other end. “It’s Mom.”

“Oh hey Mom,” said Cliff. “Do you think that you and Dad could loan me three hundred bucks so that I can make a credit card payment? It’s maxed out to the limit right now.”

“Of course Sweetie,” Mrs. Burton replied happily.

“Really? No shit. That’s awesome. You guys rock,” said a stunned Cliff. Usually he had to grovel and beg for money from his parents. “Can I have an extra two hundred bucks for my car insurance too?”

“I think that can be arranged,” said Mrs. Burton. “Your father is also giving you his gas card privileges back.

“Wow,” said Cliff, he felt as if it were his birthday or something. “Did you and Dad win the lottery or something?” Cliff hadn’t been allowed to use his Dad’s credit card for gas since 1983, when Metallica had went out to New York for a while. The band had no money, so Cliff had charged all of their gas from California to New York on his father’s gas card. Metallica made it out to New York, but Mr. Burton was sure not very happy having to pay for Metallica’s cross country road trip and Cliff’s gas card privileges had been revoked.

“We’re so very proud of you Clifford,” said Mrs. Burton. “You’ve finally grown up, and your father and I want to help you and Emily out with your new start in life.”

So that’s it, Cliff thought, everything making sense. She must have gotten the pretend wedding invitation. And I thought that I’d be getting a toaster. Help with my bills and gas card privileges, is a hell of a lot better than that. Shit. Maybe I will get married someday after all. Having the gas card would be worth it.

“I appreciate that,” Cliff said, wondering what else he could get out of them. Maybe they’d spring for a honeymoon. Wouldn’t that be fine? It would surely kick ass, even if he did have to drag Emily along with him.

“I never would have dreamed that you would get married,” Mrs. Burton prattled on. “I owe your aunt fifty dollars. But why so soon? Why don’t you wait until the spring? Josephine’s winery is so much prettier then, and we could plan the most fabulous wedding.”

“Um,” Cliff fumbled around. He should come clean on the joke, but he really wanted the gas card back. “You see, uh, Social Services really want Cecily to have stability, so we’re going to have a simple ceremony this weekend, and then do a really big one in England later.”

“Cecily has been so good for you. She’s such a dear and sweet granddaughter,” Mrs. Burton gushed. “I’m so happy right now.” She sounded near to tears of joy. “Your invitations were beautiful too. Emily must have picked them out.”

“No, actually Kirk did,” said Cliff.

“Kirk’s such a nice boy,” Mrs. Burton replied. “Is he going to be your best man?”

“I guess,” Cliff quipped. Maybe I should start designing wedding invitations, he thought. Then maybe I’d have half a chance with Emily.

“I don’t really know Emily very well,” said Mrs. Burton. “Is she the one with the big bouncy breasts?”

“That’s every girl that I date,” said Cliff. “Emily’s British.”

“I don’t remember her,” Mrs. Burton confessed. “I remember a dark haired girl, running around half dressed.”

“That’s Philippa,” said Cliff. “She gets cock from James now.”

“Clifford!” Mrs. Burton exclaimed. “You talk like they do down at the fish hatchery.” She sighed “It’s very hard to keep all of your girls straight. So what was so special about Emily? What made her the one?”

Besides from the fact that she likes Cecily? Cliff thought. He really didn’t know. He still didn’t know much about Emily at all. She was British, liked to sew, liked champagne, and looked very good in blue. That was pretty much it.

“She’s good between the sheets,” said Cliff. “Look Mom, I really need to go right now. I have some uh, um, some wedding shit that I need to do.”

“Oh yes,” said Mrs. Burton. “And if you need any help with the plans I’d love to help you. Planning a wedding is so exciting. Anyway, is it alright if your father and I drop by Josephine’s tonight? We have a very, very, very, special surprise for you and Emily, and we would like to present it to the both of you. It’s a wedding present.”

“Of course it is,” Cliff replied, growing excited. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise,” his mother reminded him. “And I want to give it to you while you and your little wife-to-be are together. I want Cecily there too, because if she gets to stay with you, it will affect her as well.”

“Alright,” Cliff sighed. He would have to somehow convince Emily into coming over to the villa tonight. Oh well, it would be a small price to pay for a really kick-ass present. He wondered how it would affect Cecily too. Maybe it was a puppy, a real life cocker spaniel puppy. Cliff could hardly contain his excitement.

Cliff drowned his mother out as she rattled on to him about having to have his sister in the wedding. Yeah right. Finally, he hung up with her. Now he had to make sure that he could get Emily to come over.

Cliff took a deep breath, and then dialed the number to Kirk’s house. He felt a bit awkward. After all, Kirk might answer the phone, and it would be rather weird asking if he could speak with his girlfriend. To Cliff’s relief and good fortune, Emily answered the phone.

“Hey, it’s Cliff,” he said.

“Oh,” replied Emily, sounding a bit disappointed. “What do you want?”

“Can you come over to the villa tonight for dinner?” Cliff asked.

“Is Social Services coming over again?” Emily asked. She could see Mrs. Hammett hovering by the door, listening to the conversation. She did not look happy. What’s her problem? Emily thought.

“No, but my parents are giving us some kick-ass wedding gift, and we both have to be there to receive it,” Cliff explained.

“Why do we both have to be there in order to receive a toaster?” Emily asked.

“Beats me,” Cliff replied. “Look, if you can just pretend long enough for me to get the gift, then I promise that I’ll tell them the truth.”

“You promise?” Emily reinstated.

“Absolutely,” Cliff nodded. “My Mom’s getting way too into this wedding shit anyway. She even asked me to have my sister be in the wedding. Isn’t that outrageous?”

“That’s normal Cliff,” said Emily. “I don’t have any sisters to be in my wedding.”

“You’re lucky,” said Cliff. “You’re an only child aren’t you?”

“I am,” returned Emily.

“That’s why you’re so prissy all of the time,” said Cliff.

“I’m most certainly not!” Emily gasped.

“You fucking nearly broke my neck the other day,” Cliff shot.

“You grabbed my ass!” Emily retorted.

“Yeah, and it was good. Anyway, whatever the gift is, whether its money or a vacation, I’ll split it with you,” said Cliff.

“Sounds fair enough,” Emily agreed. Who knows? Maybe she would get a pretty sweet chunk of change. She felt bad for making Cliff’s parents spend money on wedding gifts for a false wedding, but then again, Cliff had put her through a lot of bullshit. She deserved whatever she could get.

“You’d have to share a hotel room, and being an only child and all, I know that you aren’t used to having to share shit with others,” Cliff taunted.

“You’re right,” Emily replied. “I don’t know how to share, so I wouldn’t be able to share a bed with you. That’s why they make sofas. Oh well, just as long as you don’t pee in the sink, or off of the balcony.”

“Just as long as you don’t make me drink tea and shit,” Cliff snarled.

“Fine, just as long as you don’t give me any shit,” shot Emily.

“Very funny,” Cliff snapped, though he couldn’t help but laugh a little. The thought of sharing a hotel room with Emily amused him. He didn’t know why, but the image of her and himself bickering over who gets to sleep in the hotel room’s bed made him smile. What if Cecily was right? What if he really did like Emily, but was just being too stupid to admit it. “Can you come over at six?” he asked, trying to redirect his thoughts.

“I can,” nodded Emily.

“Okay,” Cliff said. There was an awkward silence between the two of them. “Uh, Emily,” he finally said.

“Yes Cliff,” Emily returned.

Cliff was contemplating telling her to bring a bathing suit so that they could go in the hot tub. Hell, maybe he’d get really lucky. Maybe he should ask her to bring an overnight bag over as well.

“Emily,” he began. “If you want after dinner, maybe we can go in the hot-”

Cliff was cut off by Mrs. Hammett who jumped onto the phone.

“Emily,” she said urgently.

“Mrs. H!” Emily gasped, not realizing that Mrs. Hammett had slipped onto the phone.

“Kirk Lee has a special luncheon planned for you,” said Mrs. Hammett smoothly. “He told me to let you know. He’s looking forward to it very much.”

“A luncheon?” Emily asked. “I just saw Kirk earlier. He didn’t mention any lunch.”

“He’s so shy and bashful around you,” Mrs. Hammett gushed. “You know how Kirk Lee is. I mean you two are always together.”

Cliff fell silent as he listened to Mrs. Hammett prattle on about Kirk. There was no way in hell that he could go behind his friend’s back and invite his woman into the hot tub. James had no qualms about sleeping with girls who belonged to Kirk, Lars, and Cliff, but Cliff just couldn’t do that. Maybe to Lars or James he could, but never to Kirk. Kirk trusted him, and looked up to him. Without even saying goodbye, Cliff hung up the phone. Not that Emily would miss him anyway since she was having lunch with Kirk Lee.

Cliff sat in his bedroom feeling defeated. He needed a cigarette. He reached over for his wallet and his car keys. He’d have to go down to the store and buy a pack. He had been four whole days with not one cigarette, but he didn’t care. He needed one now. It was either that or alcohol, and since it was only nine o’clock in the morning, even Cliff felt that might be a hair too early to start drinking. He reached for the door knob of his bedroom door, and caught sight of the plastic rainbow bracelet that adorned his wrist. He couldn’t cave in. He had promised Cecily that he would quit. Cliff sighed, turned around, and flung himself down on the bed, where he fell asleep for the rest of the morning…
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