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| Father of the Year; Kirk is going to get even with Lars. Het. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: July 3, 2007, 9:40 pm (14,641 Views) | |
| Shayi | July 12, 2007, 3:12 am Post #31 |
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Bring me that horizon
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Wow - Lars is on one isn't he! And Cliff is so sweet around Cecily! Hmm... I have to admit, I actually rather admire Lars in this section - sure he's going about things in somewhat the wrong way, but his heart's in the right place which is what matters really Excellent stuff as always! |
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| Simone | July 12, 2007, 3:36 am Post #32 |
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Mistress of Puppets
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Aaaaaah!!!!!! Lars you asshole!!! Noo...let Cliffy with Cecily !!! I wonder where is this going Lars is a daddyyyyyy!!!!!! And the "Best Fan Fictions" award goes to............ VERITY!!!! :horns2
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| Verity | July 12, 2007, 2:23 pm Post #33 |
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The Story Girl
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Thank you once again for reading this. Kick ass!!!I hope the next chapter is okay. I wrote it in a hotel lobby, which is probably why most of this story takes place in one as well. Chapter 10- No Going Back Kirk Lee Hammett ran through the frosty streets of Denmark as fast as his little tight, black-jean, legs could carry him. He was bursting with happiness! For once, he, Kirk Lee Hammett had gotten revenge on Lars! All of those days cleaning his toilet, and packing away his drum kit, moving amps, and cooking his fucking meals. Finally! Finally, sweet revenge. He had just gone down to the post office to check the PO box that he and Cliff had got especially for Operation Cecily Ulrich, and there were two letters from Lars. A red nosed Kirk burst through the door of Sweet Silence studios. James was in the studio with Flemming Rasmussen working on James’s vocals for Leper Messiah. “Lars wants to see Cecily!” Kirk cried as he burst into the room. James stopped singing at once. His perfect take had just been ruined. Flemming was not happy. He had been listening to James’s snarling and warbling on just one song, the entire afternoon. “By what is the meaning of this?” Flemming bellowed. “Get the fuck out of here boy! I finally get James to sing on key, and you fucking ruin it by bursting in here like a bull in a china shop!” “Don’t worry about it Flemming,” said James as he took off his headphones. “This is very important. Go on Kirk.” Kirk showed James the two letters from Lars. “Shit,” muttered James. “He actually wrote one for the little brat too.” “What do we do now?” Kirk asked. “We tell Cecily that Lars is her dad, and we arrange a meeting for the two of them,” said James matter-of-factly. “I wonder if he’ll actually buy the brat a present? Better yet, we get him to send child support checks to the PO box, and then we take them.” “Oh James that’s absolutely evil,” Kirk chuckled. “I love it! It’s brilliant! Think of all of the pretty things that we could buy for that money.” “I’d buy myself a nightclub,” James mused. “A nightclub with a stripper’s pole, and a mirror on the ceiling like they have out in Vegas.” “I’d buy myself an old fashioned ice cream parlor,” Kirk sighed. “With rod iron tables and chairs, and a real live soda fountain.” “So, who’s going to tell little Cecily that Lars is her daddy? Sure ain’t going to be me. That fucking kid hates me,” James said. “She thinks that I ‘m taking her mom away from her. I can’t help it that Claudia would rather spend more time with me, than with a five-year-old. Cecily can’t do to her what I can.” “That’s gross James,” Kirk quipped. “I think we should have Cliff tell her. Those two adore each other, and he dotes on her.” “He can’t,” replied James as he popped open a beer. “Lars and Claudia have both banned Cliff from seeing Cecily. Rightfully so, we wouldn’t want a pot smoking five-year-old, and she was starting to get a mouth on her.” “Really?” Kirk gasped. “I had no idea. No wonder Cliff was all out of sorts last night. I couldn’t get him to eat any dinner, and I couldn’t get him out of bed this morning either.” “I saw him down at the bar last night,” James reported in a gossipy tone. “He’s feeling really shitty about it because before Lars had banned him, he had promised Cecily that he would never leave her, and now he can’t see her anymore.” “Brutal,” Kirk breathed. James shrugged and down his beer. “If you ask me, it was a stupid promise anyway,” he said. “What did Cliff think he was going to do when we leave Denmark? Kidnap Cecily and take her on tour with us? Plus, I’m the one banging Mommy. If anyone was going to be her new step daddy it would be me.” “I guess I’ll have to be the one who tells Cecily about Lars,” Kirk stated. He had to admit that he did feel kind of bad about it. Cecily had already been through so much with not having a dad around, and having a mother who was more preoccupied with boys than raising a five-year-old daughter. Now she was going to get a father for a little while, until they decided to come clean about the entire thing. How would she feel after having a father, and then having him snatched away? Maybe they should just fess up to the entire thing, before really involving Cecily. Just then, Kirk spotted Mr. Chelton through the window. He was closing up his guitar shop. He caught sight of Kirk, and smiled and waved. That was all that Kirk needed. Lars had hurt both him and Mr. Chelton, by stealing his essay. He wasn’t going to let Lars have an out this easily. However, once they brought Cecily in, there would be no going back... *** Later that very same evening, Kirk spotted little Cecily sitting in the hotel lobby with the little, white, teddy bear that Cliff had given her. She was crying. “What’s wrong Cecily?” Kirk asked, as he sat down next to her. He took the small forlorn figure into his arms. “You can tell me.” “Nobody loves me,” Cecily cried. “That’s not true Cecily,” Kirk replied. Cecily buried her face, and blew her nose in Kirk’s fabulous black denim vest. Kirk went on “Your mother loves you very much.” “No she doesn’t,” Cecily answered through tears. “All she cares about is Mr. James. They’re off having dinner together in the hotel restaurant, and they left me here alone. They told me that it wouldn’t be for long, but I’ve been here since six o’clock.” Kirk glanced at the clock that was in the hotel lobby. It was now eight-thirty. They had left a five-year-old unattended in a hotel lobby for two and a half fucking hours? “Mr. Cliff loves you,” Kirk tried. This sent Cecily into another episode of tears. “No he doesn’t! He left me too! He had even promised that he wouldn’t leave, and he did! He was even going to teach me how to play Dungeons and Dragons,” Cecily cried. She looked down at the teddy bear. “He was the closest thing to a father that I’ve ever had. Even though Mummy didn’t like him, none of her boyfriends ever spent time with me, or bought me a present, not ever. Did I do something wrong? Why doesn’t he like me anymore?” “No Cecily,” said Kirk. “It’s not you. Your parents don’t think that Mr. Cliff is a good influence on you, so they banned him from seeing you. He’s really sad about it too. It’s your parents’ fault though.” “Parents?” Cecily asked. “I only have a mom, and even she’s hardly ever around.” “Cecily, I know who your real dad is,” Kirk said carefully. “You do?” Cecily’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Do you remember Mr. Lars?” Kirk asked. “I hate Mr. Lars,” Cecily snapped. “He’s a wicked, mean, and nasty toad.” “Well, that wicked, mean, and nasty toad is your dad,” replied Kirk. “Mr. Lars is my dad?” Cecily repeated. Kirk nodded. “He wants to meet you too,” he added. “It’s not so bad, really it isn’t. Your grandfather is a rich and famous tennis player.” “Really?” asked Cecily. “He sure is,” said Kirk. “He has tons of money, and lives in a huge castle out in the countryside. Lars has tons of money. He’ll be able to buy you a pony, and beautiful dolls, and dresses from Paris.” Cecily’s eyes were now shining, and she seemed very excited. “Mr. Cliff says that I need a winter coat,” she said. “Will my Dad buy me a winter coat?” “He’ll be able to buy you five of them,” said Kirk. “Kids aren’t that hard to manage,” he thought. “I got her to stop crying all by myself.” Cecily sprang up from the couch, dropping the teddy bear to the floor. She ran towards the elevators. “Cecily! Where are you going?” Kirk asked, as he picked up the teddy bear. “Don’t you want your bear?” “No!” shouted Cecily as she pushed the call button for the elevator. “I have a new daddy now, a real dad. I don’t need Cliff’s silly old bear. I’m going to see my real daddy now!” “Cecily! You come back here!” Kirk yelled, and started to run after her, but he was too late. Cecily jumped in the elevator and the doors slammed shut right in Kirk’s face. Cecily remembered right where Lars’s room was. How could she forget? It wasn’t everyday that a silly guy babbled incoherently about her eyes, face, and nose. She got off at the third floor, and raced down the hallway, right to his room. She pounded on the door. To her relief and excitement Lars answered the door. He was wearing nothing except a terrycloth bathrobe. He actually, was just about to step in the bathtub, for a nice, warm, bath. “Cecily!” he gasped. “Whatever are you doing here?” “Mr. Lars!” Cecily sighed out of breath. She threw her arms around him. “You’re my, you’re my, you’re my dad!” |
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| Raedoll | July 12, 2007, 4:13 pm Post #34 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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OHSHIT. Cover could be blown!!! Poor poor Cliff! She just threw his teddy bear down like it didn't mean anything! Little BRAT. But hse has been through so much...stupid whore of a mother. |
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| Verity | July 12, 2007, 6:57 pm Post #35 |
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The Story Girl
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I was feeling antisocial today so I finished 2 installments today. Not many people around to bug me so I could write. Rock on! Chapter 11- An Unlikely Reunion “Please Cliff, you must eat,” Kirk begged. He pushed the room service cart towards Cliff’s bed. He had been trying to coax a broken Cliff into eating some dinner for the past hour, but Cliff refused. Kirk had ordered all of Cliff’s favorites: potato skins, chicken skewers, enchiladas, and fried cocktail weenies dipped in Worcester sauce, but nothing seemed to appeal to the bassist. “I’m not hungry,” Cliff snapped, and reached for his cigarettes. “I’ll smoke my dinner tonight.” “I promised your Mom that I would make sure that you eat properly,” Kirk protested. “Then fucking box up this food and send it to her!” Cliff retorted. “Please Cliff,” Kirk coaxed. “Just take one bite. One little bite of this yummy enchilada.” “I told you! I don’t fucking want it!” Cliff snapped. “Cliff!” Kirk argued. “You can’t let perfectly good food go to waste.” That was enough. Cliff got up from the bed, took the plate with the enchilada on it, and marched over to the window. To Kirk’s horror and amazement, Cliff opened up the window, not minding the snow that blew inside the room as he did so. “Hey you homeless fucker!” Cliff yelled to a bum outside the window. “Here’s dinner!” And with that, he hurled the plate with the enchilada on it out the window. “There. Happy now?” Cliff asked as he shut the window and flopped back down on the bed. “It didn’t go to waste.” “You can really be a prick sometimes,” Kirk sighed as he popped one of the cocktail weenies into his mouth. “I’m not the prick! Lars is,” said Cliff. “He’s not even really Cecily’s father.” “He could be though,” Kirk reminded him. “And this whole shenanigan was your idea. You wanted Lars to think that he was the father.” “I didn’t know that he was going to fucking ban me from seeing her,” Cliff replied as he reached for his bong. “I wonder why,” Kirk scoffed as he watched Cliff take a hit. “Fuck you! I took better care of her than her own mother did,” Cliff hissed. “She had fun with me.” “You two did seem to like each other,” Kirk agreed. “And you could just tell that Cecily worshipped you. It’s so surprising though.” “What do you mean by that?” Cliff growled, offended. “Nothing,” replied Kirk. “It’s just that you were always so vocal about not ever wanting any kids.” Cliff grew very quiet. He took another hit from the bong. Finally he said “I guess a little daughter would be nice someday. I could buy her dresses and shit. Maybe she would even go fishing with me.” “Oh Cliff, I just knew you had a softer side!” Kirk exclaimed. “You could have a daughter of your own. You don’t have to take Lars’s daughter. As soon as we get back to the United States, I’ll take you down to my favorite strip club. There, I’m sure that we could find a beautiful mother for your daughter.” “That won’t be necessary Kirk,” Cliff retorted. “I wouldn’t want a daughter if she wasn’t like Cecily. Cecily was a cool kid. She even dug the Misfits, the band and the stories.” “I know what will make you feel better,” said Kirk. He got up from the bed, and opened his bedside drawer. He pulled out the white, teddy bear. “Cecily didn’t want this anymore. I guess she wants Lars to buy her one instead. You can have it.” He handed the bear to Cliff. Cliff sadly took the bear. “She didn’t want it anymore?” he asked, hurt. “It’s only natural that she would want toys from her real dad, or whom she thinks is her real dad,” Kirk explained. “Fucking brat!” Cliff spat. He grabbed the bear by it’s neck, and trudged over to the window, opened it, and again bellowed to the homeless person outside. “Hey homeless dude! Here’s a fucking toy for you!” he yelled as he chucked the bear out of the window. “Fucking prick teddy bear!” *** Meanwhile, Lars was a little taken a back by the little girl who was clutching him, and holding onto him so tightly. He knew that he would soon be meeting Cecily formally as her father, but he wasn’t expecting her to randomly pop up at his doorstep. He didn’t know how to act around the little girl. “Now that I’ve found you, you’re never going to leave me right?” Cecily asked. “Please don’t leave me. Everybody leaves me. Even Mr. Cliff left me.” “Cecily,” Lars hissed. “Cecily, honey, uh girl, don’t hang onto me so tight.” He pried the girl away from him. For some reason, calling her “honey” didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem natural at all. It seemed foreign and awkward. Cecily looked up at Lars with big, pleading, green, eyes. Lars could tell that she was afraid. Afraid, that he might reject her. He took her over to the bed, and sat her down. “You are right Cecily,” he told her. “I am your dad. I’m sorry that it took us five years before we got to finally meet.” “That’s okay. I don’t mind,” said Cecily. “I’m just glad that you want me. I wish I would have known you just a little earlier, because then I would have entered you in the Father of the Year Contest.” For once Lars Ulrich did not know what to say. He had barely uttered two words to the girl. That hardly made him Father of the Year. “Cecily, I’m going to try and be a good dad to you,” he went on. He stoked the girl’s long, unruly hair. That was definitely one thing that Lars was going to change right away. Cecily must keep a tidier appearance. She wasn’t a rag picker’s child. She was an Ulrich, and Ulrich children were always kept neat and tidy. “Will you tell me stories about the Misfits?” Cecily asked. Lars frowned. “Why on earth would you want stories about a horror punk band?” he asked. “Not the band,” said Cecily. “Though I like them too. But what I mean is The Misfits as in the orphan children who live in London with their mean, sourly, wealthy Uncle Murdock. Mr. Cliff tells me stories about them.” “What the fock?” Lars slipped up. “Burton has been smoking way too much weed.” “Mr. Cliff also says that I can’t say “fuck” until I’m eighteen,” said Cecily. “Are you over eighteen?” “Yes Cecily I am,” Lars mumbled dumbfounded. “And I don’t ever want to hear the word coming out of your mouth again young lady. Understand?” Cecily was about to nod when James came stumbling through the door. He and Claudia had polished off two bottles of wine, plus he had had a plethora of before dinner cocktails. “This is cozy,” he remarked as he took off his leather jacket. “Is Daddy Lars going to tell you a story?” “Shut up James,” snarled Lars. “Leave us alone.” “I will actually,” replied James. “I just came back here to freshen up. Then I’m going over to Claudia’s room for the night. I guess you should probably keep Cecily here. That way we can have some privacy.” Cecily frowned. “Don’t frown little girl,” said James. “You’re an Ulrich now. Lars is going to buy you all kinds of wonderful things. Dolls, and dollhouses, ponies, a merry-go-round.” “I will do no such thing,” Lars snorted. “I’m not going to go about spoiling the girl. Spoiling the child won’t accomplish anything.” “I know, look at you,” James laughed. “Don’t worry Cecily. Your Daddy will give you a bath and put you to bed. You can sleep in my bed since I’ll be residing in your Mommy’s bed for tonight.” “That’s quite enough James,” Lars hissed in annoyance. “Plus, your Daddy is going to start sending you child support checks,” James went on. “That means he’ll give a sum of money each week for your care.” “Oh fock- I mean fudge nuts!” declared Lars. “I forgot all about that. How much is it weekly?” “Two hundred buckaroos a week my friend,” replied James. “You’re going to have to shell out the bread, or else they can put you in jail. You probably already owe thousands in backed child support.” Lars swallowed in fear. He knew that James was right. He would definitely have to start paying for Cecily’s care. “I’ll write a check to that Mr. Gurken dude tomorrow,” he sighed, as he looked over at Cecily. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching them. “Sounds awesome,” James said happily, as he gave Lars a slap on the back. “You’ll be the perfect Father. Maybe even Father of the Year. Now I’ve got to go be Lover of the Year.” He gave Cecily a little bow, and headed out the door. “I’m sorry that I have to be such a financial drain,” said Cecily. “You really don’t have to give me any money. Mummy gets by just fine with her pastry chef job, and Mr. Cliff said that he was going to buy me a winter jacket, but I guess he can’t see me anymore, but still. I’ll be alright.” “Don’t be silly,” replied Lars. “Mr. Cliff isn’t your dad, and I bet that I have more money than your mother does. I’ll take you out to buy a winter coat first thing tomorrow morning.” “Really?” Cecily asked. “Oh thank you! It will be the first present that I’ve ever gotten from my Dad!” “First of many,” Lars replied, blushing. Cecily threw her arms around him once again. She smiled up at him, showing her small pearly white teeth. Lars couldn’t help but feel a small surge of fatherly pride come over him. Cliff thought that he was so high and mighty because he had won Cecily over. Well, Lars Ulrich had just done it too. Raising a kid would be a piece of cake, and he could do it a hell of a lot better than Cliff ever could, even if he couldn’t tell tripped out stories. “Thank you for being my Dad,” said Cecily, as she snuggled down next to him. “You know Cecily,” said Lars as he began to pet her head. “I think that I’m going to like having a daughter…” |
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| Raedoll | July 12, 2007, 11:10 pm Post #36 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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ROAAAARGHTHHT! Cliff ;_; Poor darling..*wubs on him* Lars you shouldn't have banned Cliff and Cecily from eachother!!! The child's too impressionable! James you're such a dirty MANWHORE. *smacks James in the face* Lars is doing the right thing. For Now. |
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| Simone | July 13, 2007, 2:29 am Post #37 |
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Mistress of Puppets
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Lars is going to be s baaaad dad! Poor Cliff! I really wanted him to play with Cecily Jack pot for james! way to go Verity!!!!! |
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| Shayi | July 13, 2007, 4:00 am Post #38 |
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Bring me that horizon
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“Hey you homeless fucker!” Cliff yelled to a bum outside the window. “Here’s dinner!” And with that, he hurled the plate with the enchilada on it out the window. “There. Happy now?” Cliff asked as he shut the window and flopped back down on the bed. “It didn’t go to waste.” ^^^^^ That bit was brilliant - talk about a beautifully done petulant teenager moment. Fantastic! Made me think of Kevin & Perry And as for Lars - well I don't know what to think of him in this - the desperation, then the panic, and now he's so sweet now he's becoming reconciled to the idea. It's a bit worrying as to how it's all gonna go when the truth finally comes out. James needs a damn good walloping. And possibly a chastity belt And Kirk bless the sweet little thing - he's possibly my favourite character in this. Cute and devious at the same time - what a winning combination! You have definately taken the prize for being my favourite comedy author, your stories are amazing |
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| MissMetallica;; | July 13, 2007, 7:04 am Post #39 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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wow verity, this is awesome. im feeling proud of lars, he actually WANTS to be a part of her life now. thats great! keep it coming! i love it |
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| Verity | July 13, 2007, 1:53 pm Post #40 |
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The Story Girl
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Thanks for the kind words girls! I'm thrilled. Shayi- I can take credit for the throwing food out the window incident. I didn't throw an enchilada at a homeless person, but I did leave a pie outside on the streets of downtown Rochester NY once, so it wouldn't go to waste. Maybe a homeless dude picked it up. No one else wanted it. Anyway, back to the story. I'll admit that I was pretty lit when I wrote the first half of this. My appologies. Chapter 12- Lar's First Night “Come here Cecily,” Lars said later that night. Cecily had just had her nightly bath, and was wrapped up in her robe and pajamas. Her long brown hair hung down her back in tangles. “I’m going to brush out your hair,” said Lars. “Now? But I’m tired,” Cecily whined. “You’re not a streetwalker’s daughter, you’re my daughter, and I want everyone in Copenhagen to know that I take pride in my Cecily,” Lars replied. Cecily sat down next to Lars on the bed. Lars began to run the brush through her hair. It immediately got tangled. “Ouch!” Cecily cried. “You’re hurting me!” “Hold still!” Lars hissed. The brush tangled again, and pulled on Cecily’s hair. Cecily let out a yelp. “Stop Daddy! Please stop!” she cried. “Cecily, I really need to brush out your hair,” Lars said exasperated. “It never hurts when Mr. Cliff brushes my hair!” shouted Cecily. “That’s because Cliff has never brushed it,” snapped Lars. “Yes he has,” answered Cecily. “He brushed it for me yesterday, and even French braided it.” “Well la tee da,” spat Lars. “I can’t do a foc- I mean frigging French braid.” With a hard yank, he went back to Cecily’s hair. Cecily howled in over dramatized pain. “Daddy! You’re hurting me!” she cried and pulled away from Lars. She leapt off of the bed. Lars reached to grab her by the leg, but she shimmied away. She ran into the bathroom, and locked the door. “Cecily!” Lars demanded as he pounded on the door. “Cecily Anne Ulrich you open up this door this instant!” “That’s not my middle name!” yelled Cecily. “Well it focking is now!” yelled Lars. “I didn’t get to pick out your first name, so I at least get to pick out your middle name. Cecily is a ridiculous name for a little girl anyway!” This caused Cecily to yet again burst into tears. “Jesus,” thought Lars. “ My daughter sure is a whiney, little, brat. She needs discipline.” “Is that why you left Mummy and me?” Cecily asked. “Because you didn’t like what she named me?” “No Cecily,” Lars replied. “Just open the door.” Cecily wouldn’t budge. She kept howling. Lars was certain that she would wake the neighbors. He was sure to get a complaint from hotel security. “I’ll give you three seconds to open up this door!” Lars bellowed for all the world to hear. “If you don’t, I’m going to break it down, and tan your hide! That’s what you need if you ask me! Your mother hasn’t taught you any discipline, and that has to change, and it will now that I’m around!” Cecily just cried and cried. Her own Father had just met her, and didn’t even like her. It was pretty clear that Cecily was not going to open the bathroom door for him. He knew the one person who could get her to open it. Hastily, he threw on his shoes and a robe, and made his way up to Kirk and Cliff’s room. He rapped on the door. A groggy Kirk answered it. “Is that you Lars?” he asked squinting, for he did not have his contacts in. “Whatever are you doing at this time of night?” “It’s only nine o’clock Kirk,” Lars spat. “I decided to make it an early night,” Kirk shrugged. “I need Cliff,” said Lars. “Where is he?” “He’s in the bathroom,” Kirk answered. “If I were you, I wouldn’t go in there.” “Fock off,” snarled Lars as he walked into their room, and barged into the bathroom. “Jesus fuck Lars!” Cliff gasped, and the random chick that he was with, shrieked. Cliff and some chick were naked, and were lying on a towel on the bathroom floor. They were obviously in the middle of something. Cliff had picked up a young, seventeen-year-old girl in the elevator earlier that evening. It had been as easy as pie. He had said hello, and then he had asked her if she wanted to get together. Obviously, her answer had been yes. The rest was history. Lars turned red. “Cliff, I need your help for a minute,” he stammered. “Can’t you see that I’m busy with, with, what’s your name?” Cliff asked the girl. “Missy,” the girl replied. “I don’t know your name either.” “Great,” Lars muttered. “I’ve banged a lot of chicks in my day, but at least I knew their names first.” “Screw you!” Cliff snarled. “I’m trying to make a daughter of my own, since you took Cecily away from me.” “Well, I need you to help me right now,” said Lars. “I have no reason to help you,” snarled Cliff. “It’s Cecily,” Lars explained. “She went and locked herself in the bathroom. I can’t get her to come out. You could though. She adores you.” Cliff looked thoughtful. He turned to the poor, random, chick. “I’m sorry Misty,” he said. “It’s Missy,” the girl snapped. “Same thing,” said Cliff. “Cecily needs me.” He immediately got up and started to shimmy back into his bellbottoms. “And just what I’m supposed to do now?” Missy demanded, throwing a towel over herself to hide from Lars’s ogling eyes. “Kirk!” Cliff called. Kirk entered the bathroom. “Take care of Missy,” he instructed as he pulled on a shirt. Kirk looked at the young, seventeen-year-old, doe eyed girl, who lay on the floor in front of him. “Hell yeah,” he replied. Between Operation Cecily Ulrich going on in full force, and this decent looking, young, random chick that had just been bestowed upon him, it was Kirk’s lucky day. As the other two left, Missy just stared up at Kirk with confused, bewildered, eyes. "Hey Missy," Kirk said as he unzipped the fly of his tight, black, jeans. "I guess that you're stuck with me instead..." *** Within in five minutes, Lars and Cliff were back to Lars’s room. “She won’t come out,” Lars moaned. “She hates me!” “I don’t blame her,” Cliff hissed. “Cecily honey,” he said in a much sweeter tone. “It’s Mr. Cliff. Please open the door.” Cecily just whimpered. “I’ll tell you another chapter of The Misfits story,” Cliff bribed. Cecily grew quiet, but she did not open the door. “What did you do to her Lars?” Cliff asked. “Why would she lock herself away?” “She doesn’t focking like the way that I brush her hair,” said Lars. “Girl is way too damn picky. She needed a good hair brushing. She looked like something that the cat dragged in.” “You have to be gentle with her hair,” replied Cliff as he lit a cigarette. “She’s only a little girl.” “She’s not a focking porcelain doll that’s going to break if you look at her cross eyed,” snapped Lars. “But she’s not a rag doll that you can yank and pull around either,” said Cliff. “Cecily, sweetie,” he called. “Please open the door. Lars, I mean, your Dad isn’t going to brush your hair anymore. I’ll brush it.” “But you left me,” Cecily whimpered. “Why don’t you love me anymore?” “I love you lots and lots Cecily,” Cliff said. “Your Dad told me that I can no longer see you anymore.” “Great,” Lars muttered. “Make me look bad.” “It’s true,” Cliff shrugged. “Cecily!” barked Lars. “Open the door, and you can see Cliff whenever you’d like.” “Really?” Cecily asked. “Yes,” Lars snapped, growing impatient. “You promise that he’ll be the one brushing my hair?” Cecily asked. “It doesn’t hurt when he brushes it.” “For the next ten years we’ll hire Mr. Cliff to come in everyday and brush it,” Lars replied. “Please come out Cecily,” Cliff begged. “Do it for me.” Slowly, the door opened, and little Cecily came out of the bathroom. Her face was streaked with tears. She ignored Lars, and immediately ran to Cliff. Cliff picked her up off of the ground and swung her through the air. “Who’s the best guitarist in the world?” he asked her. “Ed King from Lynyrd Skynyrd,” replied Cecily as she laughed. “That’s my girl!” Cliff replied, and he deposited Cecily onto the bed. Lars watched in disgust and amazement as Cliff very gently brushed Cecily’s hair. Cecily didn’t whine, complain, or even fidget once. “Mr. Cliff,” said Cecily. “Am I pretty?” “You’re very pretty,” Cliff replied. “Really?” Cecily asked. “Mummy tells me that I’m homely.” “Your Mom has a warped sense of beauty,” said Cliff as he set down the hairbrush. “She slept with Lars and James.” “She says that I look like my Dad,” reported Cecily. Cliff looked at Lars, who was sulking in the corner. “You’re way prettier than your old man,” he replied. “Before you know it, he’ll be warding off all of the boys.” “Thank you,” Cecily said. She smiled. “No one has ever told me that I’m pretty before.” “You are. Definitely,” replied Cliff. “You want a Misfits story?” “I’d love one!” Cecily nodded. “I love you Mr. Cliff.” “Aw Cecily, I love you too,” Cliff said and he hugged her. “Excuse me while I go fetch my barf bag,” Lars quipped. He left the hotel room, and plopped down on the floor in the hallway. He lit a cigarette. So far, his first night of being a father had been disastrous. Not only was he not good at brushing his daughter’s hair and telling her stories, but she now knew that he had been the one who had banned Cliff from seeing her. His daughter downright hated him and he couldn’t really blame her… |
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| MissMetallica;; | July 13, 2007, 7:58 pm Post #41 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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aww cliff is so sweet, but DAMN lars! you need to learn how to take care of a little girl! great update verity, cant wait for more! |
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| Raedoll | July 14, 2007, 1:27 pm Post #42 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Lars can learn a lot from Cliff. Cliff's a big teddybear that.....just happens to be able to be Mean sometimes. :3. Cecily's adorable, allbeit a touch spoiled from not having a father figure or proper Guidance. Lars just needs to learn to have a firm but gentle touch. He needs the following classes from Cliff. Hairbrushing 101, Story Time for Dummies, and Introduction to Love. Brilliant, and Misty- “It’s Missy,” the girl snapped. “Same thing,” said Cliff. “Cecily needs me.” was a nice touch. Poor Cliff wanting a little girl of his own, she'd be the most adorable thing. |
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| Verity | July 14, 2007, 6:45 pm Post #43 |
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The Story Girl
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I think I met the real Cecily last night. I was getting ready to play my set and this little girl taps me on the back and said "Ash-elle-ley I like your dress." Just kidding, she had parents with her but still I was thinking: Hey, she could be Cecily. I'll stop being a freak of nature now. It was just funny how she pronounced my name. Chapter 13- Gone too Far? James Hetfield strutted through the doors of the Hotel Iroquois as if he owned the joint. Kirk and Cliff were again sitting in the lobby. Kirk was teaching Cliff how to make a cootie catcher. Both of their eyes widened, and their mouths dropped open at the sight of James. James was carrying a couple of shopping bags, and a new pair of skies. He was wearing a mink lined leather jacket, and one of those furry Russian hats. He also sported a new pair of expensive sunglasses. “What’s up bitches?” he asked. “Want to play?” Cliff asked. He held up his dilapidated and sick looking cootie catcher up to James. “Maybe some other time,” replied James. “Claudia and I are going skiing for the weekend.” “But what about recording?” Kirk asked. “Flemming wants us to finish this album sometime in the next five years.” “What about Cecily?” Cliff asked. “Is she going with you guys?” “Hell no!” retorted James. “The reason that we’re going skiing is to get away from everyone, including you guys and little Cecily. Claudia thinks that the hotel babysitting services is going to take care of Cecily while we are gone, but really it will be Lars. The two can bond.” “You mean I’ll be taking care of her,” snarled Cliff. “Well don’t kill her then,” James shrugged. “I’ve rented a ski lodge for us to stay at, and look what I have here!” With a flourish, James reached into one of his shopping bags and pulled out a beautiful, little diamond heart necklace. “Do you think that Claudia will like it?” “Jiminy!” Kirk exclaimed. “What a nice necklace! Wherever did you get the money? How are you affording this ski trip anyway? And that nice new jacket that you’re wearing?” “Ain’t it cool?” James asked as he turned around to model his new jacket. “It’s lined with real mink. Real, live, mother-fucking, mink.” “Them mink don’t look live to me,” Cliff muttered as he lit a cigarette. “Ha ha,” snorted James. “Hey, are you dudes down with getting a bottle of Louis XIII and splitting it?” “James!” Kirk cried. “That stuff is one-hundred and ninety bucks a glass! We can’t afford booze like that. Where are you getting all of this money? You rob Lars’s Daddy’s estate or something?” A devilish grin spread onto James’s face, and his eyes started to dance. “You’re close,” he replied. “Though I didn’t rob Lars’s Daddy. I robbed Daddy Lars.” Kirk and Cliff just stared at him like two sheep. James reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. Cliff nearly pissed himself, and Kirk let out a shriek. “James! Where did you get all of that cash!” he cried. “That must be a thousand dollars.” “It’s two thousand actually,” replied James. He gave the wad of cash a kiss. “This daddy Lars idea is the best idea that we’ve had since the lyrics to Master of Puppets. We’re going to make tons of bread! Larsy decided to pay some of his backed child support for dear little Cecily. I checked the PO box this morning, and there was this check from Lars for five thousand dollars to a Mikhail Gurken. So I went to the bank, opened up a bank account for Mr. Gurken, and then went shopping.” “James!” Cliff cried. “That money is supposed to be for Cecily’s care!” “You buy her enough shit as it is,” said James. “Cecily has enough money.” “You could have set it aside for her schooling,” said Cliff. “I’m using it to wine and dine Cecily’s mother,” James defended. “James, we don’t know for sure that Lars is Cecily’s father,” said Kirk. “When we come clean about everything, he’s going to want all of those child support checks back.” “And what if he is Cecily’s Father?” James asked. “Then the money goes to Cecily,” replied Cliff. “Take all of that shit back. You don’t fucking ski. You fucking live in California. Do you really need all of that shit?” “Fuck off Cliff!” James snapped. “You’re just jealous.” “Jealous?” Cliff snorted. “Jealous of what? I fucking hate skiing. It’s for white bread pusses. ” “You’re jealous of me and Claudia,” said James. “I wouldn’t bed that whore even if she were the last piece of puss on this earth,” Cliff retorted. “Yes you would,” Kirk piped up. “Kirk, take this and get the fuck out of here!” James sneered, and he handed Kirk a couple hundred dollars. He turned to Cliff. “You’re jealous because I have a very good chance of being Cecily’s stepfather, and you don’t. Lars doesn’t like you, and neither does Claudia.” “Actually, Lars has permitted us to see each other again,” Cliff replied evenly. “And most importantly Cecily likes me.” “Well, I like having Daddy Lars’s child support checks,” said James. “Best fucking thing that we’ve ever did. Come on Kirk, let’s go to the bar and split a bottle of Louis XIII.” “You make me sick. Fuck you!” Cliff snapped. “Don’t go with him Kirk. James is taking this way too far. It started out fun, but now it’s not fun anymore.” “Here Kirk,” said James as he handed Kirk a few more hundred dollar bills. “You’re such a wonderful guitarist. Go down to Chelton’s shop and buy yourself something nice. But first, have a drink with me. Now we’re truly living like rock stars.” Kirk had never in his entire life, had so much cash in his hands. He had always wanted to try Louis XIII. Even the bottle without the alcohol in it, was eight-hundred dollars alone. Kirk got up out of his chair, and started to follow James. “Don’t tell me that you’re going with him?” demanded Cliff. “How do you think that Cecily is going to feel when she finds out that Lars isn’t really her dad at all? “But it’s Louis XIII,” Kirk argued. “Look Cliff, I care about Cecily too. She’s a sweet little girl, and you two are so cute together, but Lars has done a lot of really shitty things to me. At least let me have my one-hundred and ninety dollar drink on his tab.” And with that, Kirk went over to the hotel bar to find James. “Kirk’s such a piece of fuck,” Cliff muttered as he ground out his cigarette. Just then, Cecily appeared in the lobby of the hotel. She caught sight of Cliff and went running right over to him. “Hey Mr. Cliff!” she said happily, as she jumped up into his lap. “I wish you’d quit smoking.” “You do eh?” he replied flatly. “And just why is that?” “Because it’s bad for you,” Cecily argued. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She threw her arms around his neck. “You could get cancer.” “I’m not going to get any cancer,” Cliff sighed. He noticed that Cecily was wearing a brand new pink winter parka. Lars must have taken her coat shopping. “I came down here just to try and find you,” said Cecily. “Do you like my new jacket?” “It’s fit for a princess,” Cliff nodded. “Did your Dad buy that for you?” Cecily nodded, sending her curls bouncing back and forth. “He bought me a coat, and a hat, and a beautiful new doll,” she answered. “I have the best daddy in the entire world. I’m so glad that he found me.” “Yeah,” Cliff stammered. This really had gone too far. “I named my new doll Cliff,” said Cecily. “I named her after you! Do you want me to go upstairs and get her so that I can show her to you?” “Sure,” Cliff replied. “I’d like that.” He watched her as she climbed down off of his lap, and scurried over to the elevators. He reached for his pack of cigarettes, took one out, and put it in his mouth. He was about to light it, but he couldn’t help thinking about Cecily. “Ah fuck,” he muttered. “That kid has me whipped.” He took the pack of cigarettes, got up out of his chair, and threw them away. *** Cecily burst into the hotel room that she shared with her mom. Claudia was packing for her ski weekend trip with James. Cecily grabbed her new doll off of her bed. “Hi Mummy,” she greeted. “Want to see my new doll?” “Not now Sweetie,” replied Claudia. “Mummy has to get ready to go off on a ski trip with James.” “You’re going on a trip with Mr. James?” Cecily asked as she clutched her new doll tightly. “Just for the weekend hun,” said Claudia. “I promise to bring you back something.” “But you promised to take me to the movies on Saturday,” protested Cecily. Claudia frowned. Cecily was indeed right. She had forgotten all about taking Cecily to the movies. “Maybe the hotel babysitter can take you to the movies, or maybe I can pay Cliff to take you,” Claudia suggested. Usually she didn’t approve of Cliff, but if he could entertain her daughter while she was off with James, then she could tolerate him. “But I wanted to go with you!” Cecily cried. “I’ll take you next week. I promise,” said Claudia. “You always break your promises!” Cecily yelled. “I’ll ask Daddy! I’m sure that he would take me to the movies!” “Cecily, you know that you don’t have a Daddy,” said Claudia. “It’s just us. I’m sorry Sweetie.” “I do too!” Cecily yelled. “He bought me this coat that I’m wearing, and this doll!” For the first time, Claudia noticed that her daughter was indeed wearing a brand new parka, and she hadn’t recalled ever seeing that doll before. “Cecily, wherever did you get such a fine coat, and lovely doll?” she asked. She sure as hell didn’t have that kind of money. “From my Dad,” answered Cecily. “Cecily, Cliff is not your father. Nor should he be buying you things without my permission. He’s spoiling you.” “Mr. Lars is my Dad,” said Cecily. “He loves me.” Claudia’s eyes went wide, and she got very quiet. “Cecily, who told you that Lars is your Dad?” she asked. “Mr. Kirk did,” said Cecily. “But Mr. Lars said so too. He took me shopping and bought me this doll.” “Come Cecily,” said Claudia. She took her daughter’s hand. “Where are we going?” asked Cecily. “To Lars’s, I mean your Father’s room,” Claudia replied. “Are you going to get married so that we can live together like a real, live, family?” Cecily asked. “Can Mr. Cliff live in the basement?” “No,” Claudia snapped. She didn’t have to go all the way to Lars’s room. As the elevator door opened, there stood Lars Ulrich. “Daddy!” Cecily cried, and she ran to hug him. “Hey baby,” Lars said a little awkwardly. “I see that you have your new doll.” “I named her Cliff,” Cecily said with a smile. Lars looked at the silly doll with long golden curls and striking blue eyes. “Somehow she just doesn’t look like a Cliff to me,” he said. He then turned his look to Claudia. “You’re Cecily’s father?” she asked. “I am,” nodded Lars. “I’m going to do my part. I don’t want Cecily to be one of those girls who never gets to know her Dad. I’m going to be there for her. I even paid you five thousand dollars for some of her backed child support.” “I never got any five thousand dollars,” said Claudia, in a daze, as she watched Lars pick up her daughter. “You didn’t?” Lars said in surprise. “I sent it to Mr. Gurken’s PO box a few days ago.” “Who’s Mr. Gurken?” asked Claudia. “I’m sure that you’ll probably get the money sometime next week,” said Lars. “I’m sure that his law office has to process it and all.” He set Cecily back down on the ground. “What’s wrong Mummy?” Cecily asked. She tugged on Claudia’s skirt. “You look upset. Aren’t you happy that I found my Dad?” “Yes honey,” Claudia replied, and kissed Cecily on the top of her head. She wasn’t sure what to say. She actually wasn’t quite sure just who Cecily’s father was, but she didn’t want to tell her daughter that. “He bought me a new doll,” said Cecily. “Don’t you think that he’s the best father in the entire world?” Claudia swallowed. Lars hadn’t been the one dealing with Cecily when she was a baby with colic, or when she was cutting teeth, or when she had been sick with strep throat. “Cecily, your Mummy needs to speak privately to your Daddy. Okay?” “Okay,” Cecily nodded. “I’m going to go down to the lobby and show Mr. Cliff my new doll. Daddy told me that I’m allowed to see him again.” And she skipped off into the elevator. “Okay Lars,” Claudia said once Cecily was gone. “It is quite possible that you are Cecily’s Father, but first and foremost I want to get one thing straight through your head: I’m the one who raised her, and took care of her, and I get to have the final say on all decisions regarding her upbringing.” “You’re no mother to her,” Lars scoffed. “You’re too busy banging James.” “I’m young and beautiful. I like to have fun. It’s very difficult being a single parent Lars,” snapped Claudia. “Well you no longer have to worry about it!” Lars snapped. “I’m not going to marry you!” shot Claudia. “I’d never marry you, not even for Cecily’s sake.” “That’s not what I mean,” Lars replied as he popped a bubble with his chewing gum. “I’ve now found my long lost daughter, and I’m not going to ever leave her again. After we finish this album, I’m planning on taking her back to the United States, where she will live with me…” |
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| Raedoll | July 14, 2007, 8:16 pm Post #44 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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OHSHIT. This is really, really, really bad. Everything's gonna get blown!!! This could be a band-breaking secret!!! AHHHHH!!!! >< James is such a fuckass. a fucking fuckass. ROARGH. *smacks him again* And Cliff's right. Skiing is for whitebread pussies. James and Kirk are going to be in so much trouble, and Claudia is NOT going to like the idea of Lars taking her t- Ohmygod. What if Claudia just lets Lars take her!?!? AHHH. SLUT. *bitchslap*
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| MissMetallica;; | July 15, 2007, 3:21 am Post #45 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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oh wow! great updates!! i was scared of what claudia's reaction would be to lars, but it kinda turned out well...? lol and what will claudia and the other met boys say about lars' proposal!? cliffhanger!! love it! |
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Lars is a daddyyyyyy!!!!!!
:horns2

8:42 PM Jul 10