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


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


Join our community!


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

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Father of the Year; Kirk is going to get even with Lars. Het.
Topic Started: July 3, 2007, 9:40 pm (14,639 Views)
Raedoll
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
Okay. I read both updates, and Lars Ulrich is a TWAT. *bitchslaps him*. He OWES so much to Cliff. Cliff never asks Lars for anything except for One thing. He asked that Metallica come down to Frisco because he didn't wanna be in pussy sissy LA away from family. Blargh. Cecily deserves *two* dresses, both princesy and pretty. Lars is an idiot. Kirk has knowledge well beyond him and Mr. Chelton is so nice to give Kirk that immaculate walking stick. And poor Kirk spilling everything about the essay. Mr. Chelton is so nice. Just the thought of Cliff crying makes me so sad. :( I wub him, and I hope they find the ghost. Cecily is such a sweetheart, I'm kind of glad she couldn't find Cliff a stripper. BUT ANYWAY. I hope Kirk and Emily can cook up a good scheme. :heart: :heart:

This story is Muy fabuloso.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
my conclusion. LARS IS A PISS FUCK! yep thats right, a PISS FUCK!
i feel so sorry for cliff :( he's done EVERYTHING for little cecily and this is the way lars treats him. lars needs a good backhand across the face!

and little kirky, hes such a sweetheart.

great updates, and stay safe with your travelling!
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Raedoll
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
I FOUND A DRESS. That makes me think of Cecily's. it's not a dead match, but it still makes me think. :heart:

Posted Image

Just without the hat. LOVE.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Thanks for the reviews!! I'm back home YAY!!! It's been 3 weeks since I've been home, and I missed it. But 17 hours straight in a car with little stopping will make anyone tired and pissy, so y'all's reviews really helped make me feel better.
I typed until my laptop battery died, it was a blissful 2 hours of writing. I can't read in the car (I get sick) but I can type. I can type almost anywhere.

And Edgirl- you rock for finding Cecily a dress! Hell yeah!! I'm sure that she would love it. At the end of this chapter I posted a picture of the dress that I used as inspiration for Cecily's dress and it is VERY similar to the dress that you posted. Very similar. :dance And don't laugh at my doll.


***enough bullshit. let's get to the story. :lol:




Chapter 19- James Offers Counseling with Little Success


Kirk had to wait until later that evening to speak with Lars. Lars actually took Cecily out to dinner, and then to a movie, so he had to wait until they returned. Kirk watched from a distance as Lars knelt down to give Cecily a hug. The small girl wrapped her skinny arms around Lars’s neck.

“I just love having a Daddy!” she cried.

“I love having a daughter,” Lars replied, though it did sound a little awkward and contrite. “I hope that you decide to come live with me in the United States. Have you given it anymore thought?”

Cecily looked thoughtful.

“Maybe,” she answered.

“Welsleydale is one of the nation’s best schools,” said Lars. “I need to do know as soon as possible if you are going to come home with me, so that I can get you enrolled for the winter semester.”

Cecily shivered at the thought of Welsleydale.

“Would Mummy come live with us?” she asked.

Lars frowned.

“No, but you would have a very nice grandmummy, and a grandpa that will adore you. You’d be their only grandchild,” said Lars. “I have a nice girlfriend back at home named Julie.”

“Will she be my step mom?” asked Cecily.

“I don’t know,” said Lars uncomfortably. “She doesn’t know about you yet. We’ll have to see what she says. If not, I’m sure that I can find you a nice step mom.”

Lars wasn’t quite sure just how to break it to Julie. She didn’t know about Cecily, or about Whitney, Lars’s new Georgian squeeze. He was pretty sure that she wasn’t going to like the idea of Lars having a daughter with another woman. One thing for sure was that Cecily would definitely need a female figure in her life if she moved to the U.S. with Lars. Lars Ulrich would certainly not be giving her the tampon speech when she turned twelve.

“Is Julie pretty?” asked Cecily.

“Very,” nodded Lars.

“Do you have a picture?” Cecily asked.

“Why on earth would you want to see a picture of my girlfriend?” Lars demanded a little harshly.

“To help me imagine her I guess,” Cecily replied sheepishly. With a huffy sigh, Lars reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and held out a small snapshot of himself with his arm around a very gorgeous tan, and dark eyed brunette with perfect teeth. Both were smiling.

“She’s absolutely gorgeous,” Cecily sighed as she looked at the photo.

“Yes she is,” Lars admitted. Since traveling to Copenhagen to record their album, Lars had banged a lot of other chicks, and had hardly thought once about Julie. Actually, he had only called her twice the whole three months that they had been away. He felt a few pangs of guilt and longing as he looked at the photo. He missed Julie.

“I hope that someday I can be half as pretty as she is,” Cecily wished. “Do you think that’s possible Daddy?”

“Enough poppycock!” Lars snapped. “You waste way too much time thinking about your looks.”

“Mr. Cliff says that when I’m all grown up that I will be pretty,” said Cecily. “He said that I have a pretty smile, and that my eyes are striking. He said that when I’m a teenager, I’ll have lots of boyfriends. Do you think that he’s right?”

“Mr. Cliff wouldn’t know a pretty girl even if he fell over one!” Lars scoffed. “You won’t be having any boyfriends as a teenager. I’m going to lock you up in a closet once you turn twelve, and not let you out until you’re thirty-two. Cliff’s been filling your head with nonsense and lies. All this talk about being pretty, and about ghosts hanging themselves up in the ballroom.”

Cecily frowned.

“You’re a very practical looking girl, and that is all that you need to be,” said Lars.

Cecily was very disappointed. Somehow being told that she was practical looking wasn’t nearly as much fun as being told that she was pretty or striking. Mr. Cliff could make her feel as if she were the prettiest girl in the entire world. She looked down at the picture of her father with his very pretty girlfriend one last time. Julie looked so nice. Surely she would love to have a little daughter, wouldn’t she? Or maybe Cecily just wasn’t pretty enough.

“You two look so happy,” Cecily said as Lars closed his wallet and put it away.

“We are,” Lars said with a shrug.
“Were you and my Mom ever that happy?” Cecily asked.

“No,” Lars answered shortly.

“Why not?” Cecily pressed, eager to know more about her parents.

“You’re too young to understand,” Lars sighed. “Your mother and I are just different people. We had a falling out, and went our separate ways.”

“So you aren’t going to marry her?” Cecily said.

“Heavens no child!” exclaimed Lars. “Whatever gave you that idea? Don’t tell me that Mr. Cliff told you that I’m marrying your Mom.”

“No, he didn’t,” answered Cecily. “But I couldn’t help but dream about it. I bet Mummy would be the most beautiful bride. Sometimes I go down to the newsstand and look at bride magazine pictures and try to pick out Mummy’s wedding dress. I think that you’d look awfully handsome in a tuxedo. Maybe Mummy would even let me be a flower girl, and I could have a purple dress with a lavender sash, and a swishy skirt.”

“You need to spend less time dreaming, and more time on your Welsleydale essay,” shot Lars. “I am not raising you to be a hippie like Cliff. You’re an Ulrich, and Ulrichs are realists. There is going to be no wedding between me and your Mom.”

“If anything, Mummy is going to marry Mr. James,” Cecily sighed wistfully. “I don’t think she will though. She always gets tired of her boyfriends and then dumps them.”

“Good, because this her going with James thing is ridiculous,” quipped Lars. “Now it’s time for a certain little girl to get to bed!” Lars scooped up his daughter in his arms, and swung her around in midair. “Your Mum is going to be wanting you back.”

“No she won’t,” said Cecily. “She’s probably off porking Mr. James.”

“Cecily! Who taught you how to talk like that?” demanded Lars. “Never mind. I already know. Don’t mind your Mum Cecily. You have me now, and I’ll take better care of you. I’ll even tell you a bedtime story.”

“Can I have a glass of vodka and 7-up before bed?” Cecily asked.

“Most certainly not!” retorted Lars.

“Mr. Cliff says that it will help me sleep,” Cecily argued.

“This isn’t Skid Row my dear,” replied Lars. “How about this: instead of a glass of vodka and 7-up, I’ll make you a nice, piping hot cup of Ovaltine?”

Cecily crinkled up her face, and stuck out her tongue, but nodded.

“Okay,” she agreed. “But only if you make it.”

***
Cliff was sitting at his desk working on an article about the hotel dining room’s new set of china for The Metallinews, but for some reason, his heart just wasn’t in it. He was too busy worrying about what Lars, Kirk, and Cecily’s purple dress. A cart of room service ordered by Kirk just for Cliff, sat next to him untouched.

Kirk wanted Lars to pick up the dress tomorrow, and he wanted Emily to claim that she didn’t have the dress ready when Lars came in to pick it up. In order for this to work, Emily would have to be willing to help them out, but why the hell should she? She had already went above and beyond her call of duty by altering Cecily’s dress for no charge. They just couldn’t ask her to do even more for them.

“I shouldn’t have fucking wasted all of my money,” Cliff muttered. “I could have bought some really fine grade weed, or even paid my car insurance. Instead, I bought a dress that nobody is ever going to wear.”

“The botanical pattern on the china is very much in the style of John James Audubon,” Cliff mechanically typed. He read over what he had wrote. “Jesus, this sucks,” Cliff thought. “We really need to get this album finished so that Metallica has something better to write about than the hotel’s fucking china.” Between that, and Kirk’s “Are you a Good Lover?” quiz, The Metallinews was turning into a cross between Better Homes and Gardens, and Cosmo.

He pushed the typewriter away and began to entertain himself by making a list of possible names to call his one day future daughter.

The door opened, but it wasn’t Kirk that stumbled in. It was James, and he was drunk, unshaven, and in the mood to talk.

“Cliffy!” James cried as he made his way over to the desk, and threw his arms around Cliff. “I love you man! Are you working on a hardcore, totally bad-ass, and scintillating new edition of The Metallinews?

“It’s hardcore alright,” Cliff muttered. James began to eye the room service cart. Without asking, he lifted up the top to one of the plates to reveal a perfectly untouched cheeseburger, and an order of French fries.

“Fuck dude man!” James exclaimed. “Aren’t you going to eat this shit?”

Cliff pathetically picked at one of the French fries. “No,” he replied. Since he had been way stoned earlier, he had had a case of the munchies, and had polished off a whole pizza, and a plate of nachos. He was now bloated and stuffed, and had no desire to feed on Kirk’s slight obsession with the room service food. “You can have it James,” he added.

“Fuck yeah,” said James as he plopped right down at the cart, and began to work on the cheeseburger.

“Hey James,” Cliff said brightening a little. “What do you think of the name Samantha?”

James got a dreamy look in his eyes as he licked ketchup off of his sleeve.

“Yeah,” he moaned. “Samantha. Yeah, fuck yeah. She was a beauty. When I hear that name I think of this dancer from a tiny, little, club in Niagara Falls. Damn, she was fine. As I recall, she liked to take it in the ass.”

“Okay, I’ll scratch that one off of the list,” Cliff muttered.

“What list?” James asked.

“Never mind,” Cliff sighed. “I think I’ll just get a puppy instead.”

“Whatever,” James shrugged as he stuffed a wad of French fries in his mouth. “Dude, I need to talk to you about Claudia. She’s kind of being weird.”

“She’s a bitch that’s why,” answered Cliff. “She treats her daughter like shit, and now she’s treating you like shit.”

“That’s not true,” said James. “Claudia treats me like a king, and she loves Cecily. She’s a good mom.”

Cliff snorted.

“Seriously,” said James as he stuffed almost half of the burger into his mouth. “It’s got to be rough being a single mom with no dad around. My Mom had a hell of a time with us kids. To top it all off Claudia’s young, beautiful, and vivacious. She’s in her fucking prime. What the hell do you want her to do?”

“Start putting Cecily first for a change,” Cliff muttered.

“She cares about Cecily,” James defended. “Really, she does. She got really drunk this weekend and kind of opened up to me. She’s concerned about Cecily.”

“Well that’s a change,” Cliff spat. James rolled his eyes.

“I’m being serious Cliff,” he said. “She got all weepy and shit. She had too much wine. She’s worried that Lars will take Cecily back to the United States with him.”

“She should be worried,” put in Cliff.

“She knows that she hasn’t been the best mom,” James said. “She told me that she had a nightmare the other night where Cecily went back to the U.S. to live with Lars, and that she grew to be a beautiful teenager who hated her Mom. She kept on screaming she’s going to hate me! She’s going to fucking hate me! I didn’t know what the fuck to do. I’m not good with that whiney feminine bullshit. I don’t know Cliff. I don’t think I can take much more of Claudia. She’s got a great ass, and she’s a fucking freak in the sack, but she just has too much emotional baggage for me.

“If she’s so worried about Cecily, why doesn’t she spend more time with her?” Cliff asked.

“Maybe she will,” replied James. “She’s really worried about Lars taking her away. I guess she doesn’t really need to worry. After tomorrow night when the truth comes out, Lars will no longer want anything to do with Cecily. She’ll just be some random, illegitimate, little kid again. He’ll no longer even give her the time of day. I don’t suppose that Claudia is going to want much to do with me either after tomorrow, since I was in on the whole charade. I guess I should try and get one last fuck tonight, and maybe a quick hand job from her tomorrow morning. She’ll probably hate me, and I’ll be sad to see her go. Lord, does she give nice hand jobs.”

“Cecily is probably going to hate me,” Cliff mumbled sadly as he stared blankly at the typewriter. “She trusts and looks up to me so much, and here I led her astray on something as important as who her real father is.”

“Yeah Cliff, that was kind of a shitty thing for you to do,” James agreed as he lapped up the last French fry. “She’ll probably never trust another man again for as long as she lives.”

“Thanks, I feel so much better,” Cliff snapped sarcastically, feeling shittier than ever.

“No prob man,” said James. He looked at Cliff’s sad, wistful, face, and found himself feeling a little bit sorry for the guy. “Let’s go down to the arcade downstairs,” he suggested. “I’ll whip your ass at air hockey!”

Cliff grabbed a couple of extra arcade tokens off of his night table along with a pack of cigarettes, and followed James out of the room. But still, he couldn’t help but feel bad for Cecily. Tomorrow night was going to be one of the worst nights of her life. She would have no new dress, or new father, and it would all be because of him…


See, it's very similar. And yeah, I collect dolls. :blush: Just like Kirk.
(now dashes off the forum before being branded as official forum pussy.)

Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
glad to hear you got home safely, and this chapter was great.
i actually wasn't expecting an update so soon but im glad you posted! :)

thats nearly exactly how i pictured the dress, and don't worry verity. i have a doll collection sitting on the top of a cupboard in my room. i used to collect them when i was younger :P

great update cant wait for more
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Shayi
Member Avatar
Bring me that horizon
[ * ]
*G* Glad to know you got home okay, long car journeys are horrible!

(I love the swishy dress pictures - very handy! And no, you aren't the forum puss, hell I have some random stuffed animals in my room, including a halloween bear, an anteater and a mammoth!!)

I feel so sorry for poor Cliff though in this chapter. I realise at the time it seemed like a great idea but... still poor Cliff and poor Claudia for that matter.

I can't believe Lars told Claudia she was 'practical' looking! *bitchslap* Stupid man :)

I am still incredibly in love with the Metallinews :) I wish that they delivered it here ;)

Awesome update!
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Thanks everyone! I feel much better about not being the forum pussy. Y'all rock. :)
sorry, I keep torturing the poor characters in this story.




Chapter 20- Cliff and James in Trouble


Things were about to get much worse. The next morning Kirk Hammett was rudely wakened by Lars, who was banging on the ceiling with the broomstick.

“What the fuck?” Kirk moaned as he rolled over in the bed. Cliff should go over to the heat vent and see what Lars wanted. “Cliff, go see what he wants!” Kirk croaked. Lars kept on banging.

“Kirk Lee Darling,” Missy cooed. “What does he want? Make him stop.”

Kirk groggily sat up in bed. His tangled curls looked like a rat’s nest. He slid on his glasses so that he could at least see the clock. 7:03 AM! Lars was never up before noon. Whatever was going on? Kirk also noticed that Cliff’s bed was still pristinely made from the maid service. His nightly truffle was still sitting upon his pillow. Even though Cliff was a finicky eater, he always ate his bedtime truffle. Cliff obviously never came back to the room last night. He either had gotten laid somewhere, or Lars had stuck him with Cecily duty.

Kirk stumbled over to the heat vent.

“What the fuck do you want?” he growled. “It’s fucking seven in the morning!”

“I know very well what time it is!” Lars spat. “And don’t cuss so! My daughter is sleeping down here! Flemming has called a band meeting over at the studio. James and Cliff got in a bit of trouble last night. We are to report at once.”

Kirk didn’t need to be told twice. Hastily, he threw on his bathrobe and slippers. This could be disastrous for Operation Cecily Ulrich. Kirk needed Cliff and James. They were supposed to go over and speak to Emily this morning. What on earth did they do last night? Did James get in a drunken brawl? Did Cliff get caught with pot? Did James try to microwave a cat again?

“But what about having breakfast?” Missy asked as Kirk popped in his contacts. “You promised me breakfast in the hotel dining room.”

Missy was almost as bad as Cecily when it came to whining.

“We’ll have to make it lunch my Sweet,” Kirk replied. He gave her a quick kiss, and then left the room in whirlwind. Kirk barely noticed the cold, Denmark, air as he went outside the hotel and waded through the snow over to the studio.

Lars was already there, seated on the couch drinking a pussified coffee beverage. Flemming was pacing back and forth, smoking a cigarette.

“I have grave news,” he said once Kirk was situated next to Lars on the couch.

“What did those two focks do?” demanded Lars.

“Last night they got picked up by hotel security,” Flemming explained. “They’re being detained in a conference room until they pay their fines. I talked with them both this morning, and got the somewhat full story. I also read the security report. It’s the most ridiculous thing that I’ve ever heard. Apparently, they were down in the hotel game room playing air hockey until the game room closed. Then they went to the bar and had way too much to drink. They broke into the game room after hours, and James got this brilliant idea to steal the candy bars that they have in there for the kids. He had stuffed his knapsack full of them. Anyway, a security guard came and they left the game room, and almost escaped unseen, but then Cliff decided to light a joint, and the security guard could smell it, and it led her to them. I guess Cliff had somehow gotten rid of the joint before she caught them, but she decided to check their pockets and bags for drugs. Instead, she found the candy bars that James had stolen.”

“So let me get this straight,” said Lars in his business voice. “Cliff and James are being detained by hotel security for focking stealing candy?”

“You got it,” Flemming nodded.

“James stole candy that was meant for the hotel guest children,” Lars said. He started laughing. “James stole candy from children! That’s focking awesome!”

“It’s not funny!” Flemming snapped. “They could boot you guys out of the hotel for this! I don’t know if the record company can find another place to put you guys up. You guys are always doing stupid shit. Last week James busted the pinball machine in the arcade, just the other day Cliff tried to drown poor Kirk here in the hotel swimming pool.”

“He only did that because I wanted to cut out his solo in Orion,” Kirk replied. “He wasn’t really going to drown me.”

“It sure as hell looked like he was. You sure were screaming like a motherfocker,” Lars said, laughing hysterically. “Cliffy! Cliffy!” he mimicked. “Cliffy! Don’t kill me! I don’t want to die! I can’t swim Cliffy! He was holding you down so long under the water, and you were kicking and thrashing.”

“Fuck you!” Kirk snarled. Did Lars always have to be such a bully?

“Seriously guys, Cliff and James both have to pay five hundred dollars each in order to get out,” said Flemming. “I don’t think neither has that kind of bread on them.”

“Nope, they don’t,” Lars said with a smile.

“But you do Lars,” said Kirk. “You could pay to get them out. You must! They’re our band members, and the Father of the Year Gala is tonight.”

“Another good reason for me not to bail them out today,” laughed Lars.

“Don’t you want all of us there when your Dad wins tonight?” Kirk asked.

“Yeah, but I want Cecily to wear the dress that I bought her even more,” Lars replied. “If I keep Cliff and James detained, I don’t have to worry about lying to Cecily and telling her that I bought her whatever ridiculous frock that Cliff had bought. She can just wear her practical, brown, muslin.”

“I can’t believe that you are going to let your two best friends suffer over something as petty as a little girl’s dress,” snapped Kirk.

“It’s not like they’re rotting in jail,” Lars pointed out. “They’re being kept in a focking conference room. They probably got free breakfast.” Lars turned to Flemming. “Can we go see them?”

“Of course,” Flemming replied.

***

Things were not too cozy in the conference room. James and Cliff sat on sides opposite at a long, mahogany, conference table, sulking at each other. Both had been given mugs of bitter coffee, and left over croissants and pastries from the hotel’s breakfast.

“I bet Claudia made this croissant,” said James as he examined it. “Damn, she’s good in the sack, and she’s a good baker. It’s a good thing that she’s probably going to dump me tonight, or else I’d get fat.”

“She’ll dump you once she finds out that you got detained for stealing candy,” Cliff muttered. They would not let him have cigarettes, so he was starting to feel very ornery.

“It was candy for Cecily,” James replied. “And besides, we wouldn’t have gotten caught if it wasn’t for you being world’s dumbest pothead.”

“I needed a hit,” Cliff retorted.

“What you need is a cattle prod stuffed up your ass,” James shot as he took a swig of coffee. “This coffee tastes like drip dick.”

Just then, the door to the conference room opened. Kirk and Lars entered with two security guards at their sides.

“Well, well, well, this surely is an amusing picture,” Lars declared.

Even Kirk had to admit that James and Cliff looked strangely businesslike as they sat behind the big conference table with mugs of coffee. All they needed were business suits.

“Are you taking notes for The Metallinews Kirk?” Lars asked. “You finally have something to write about other than clamidia and the head bellman’s dog.”

“Fuck you Lars!” Cliff snapped. “This is not making the pages of The Metallinews. I’m chief editor, and I say so.”

“Why not?” Lars asked. “Are you afraid that Cecily will find out that her dear, perfect, Mr. Cliff is a stoner?”

“Trust me, she already knows that,” James put in. “I really don’t want this in The Metallinews either. My sister will never let me live it down.”

“I’m not going to let you live it down,” spat Lars.

“Just shut the fuck up and bail us out,” barked James.

“Who says that I came here to bail you two out?” asked Lars. “I’m not the cash cow of the band.”

“Actually you are,” said Kirk.

“I'll bail you two nut sacks out tomorrow morning,” Lars retorted. “I’m sick of you two focking me constantly for money. All I do is pay for shit. Last month I paid for James’s focking car insurance!”

“But what about the Father of the Year Gala?” asked Cliff. “We have to go! It’s tonight.”

“You two don’t have to go,” snapped Lars. “James’s dad is a cantankerous, old, drunk, and you didn’t enter your Dad. He wouldn’t have won anyway. Plus, unlike me, you two don’t have a sweet, little, angelic, daughter to enter you.”

“I promised Cecily that I would dance with her,” Cliff said. He sadly looked down into his mug of bottom-of-the-pot coffee.

“She wouldn’t want to dance with you anyway once she finds out that you got yourself detained by hotel security,” said Lars. “I can’t focking take you two anywhere nice.”

“You can’t leave us in this fucking room for the rest of the day and night man,” said James. “Larsypoo, I love you. You can fucking print it in The Metallinews, you can make fun of us all that you want, but don’t leave us here overnight. I can’t stomach a day of doing nothing but staring at Cliff all day long.”

“Please let them out Lars,” Kirk begged. “Cliff and I were going to write a nice article for The Metallinews about you winning Father of the Year.”

“It takes one person to write an article Kirk,” retorted Lars. “I’ll even grant you an exclusive interview. I’m not bailing them out before tomorrow.”

It was no use. James and Cliff were doomed to a day of staring at each other, pastries, and very bad coffee.

“Come on Kirk,” said Lars. “Let’s go have breakfast.” He turned to leave.

“If you won’t bail me out for tonight could you at least do me a favor?” Cliff asked Lars.

“What?” Lars asked with extreme annoyance. To Kirk’s horror, Cliff reached into the pocket of his jean jacket and pulled out the claim ticket to Cecily’s dress.

“I know that you weren’t cool with me buying your daughter a dress for tonight,” he began. “I was just trying to help, and well, she wanted it. The dress is being altered, but it will be finished around five o’clock. I know that you didn’t want her to know that I bought her the dress, but since I won’t even be there to enjoy seeing her wear it, do you think that you could pick up the dress, and tell her that it’s from me?”

Lars just stared at Cliff. Cliff rambled on

“It’s already all paid for. When she finds out that I got myself into trouble, and won’t be able to dance with her at the gala tonight, she’s going to be very disappointed. The least that I could do is give her the dress. Please Lars. Please tell her that it’s from me.”

For an answer, Lars snatched the claim ticket from Cliff’s hand.

“Lars,” Cliff begged. “Please. Please tell her that it’s from me. Do you think you could take a picture of her in it too? I just want something to remember her by.”

“Jesus Cliff,” Lars scoffed. “What the fock is with you? You’re not going to see Cecily for one day. It’s not like she’s being shot tonight at sundown.”

Kirk shook his head. He knew and could understand why Cliff was so sad. Tonight, Operation Cecily Ulrich would end, and more than likely Claudia and Cecily both would never want to see or have anything to do with Metallica again.

“Please take a picture Lars,” Cliff pleaded. “A picture in the dress that I bought for her. I’ve never bought anyone a dress before, and she’s kind of like a daughter to me too.”

Lars was quiet, obviously enjoying listening to Cliff grovel and beg.

“She’s not your daughter,” Lars finally snapped. “And she’s not wearing no ridiculous purple dress with a puffy skirt!” And with that, Lars ripped the claim ticket to shreds.

“LARS NOOOOO!” Kirk squealed, as the shreds of paper fell to the floor. Now there was no way that anyone could claim the dress. Dresses from the milliner’s shop were some of the finest. They didn’t let them go home with just anybody.

“It’s a swishy skirt!” Cliff cried as tears well up in his eyes.

“Oh fiddle dee dee!” Lars snapped at Cliff. “You spout off gibberish every bit as moronic as she does! Now I know where she gets it from. Swishy skirt my ass! Come along now Kirk. Unlike some losers here, we have an album to get to work on.” Lars flounced out of the room.

Kirk grabbed Cliff’s hand.

“I’m sorry dude,” he said.

Cliff was now once again in full blown tears. Even James, who had been pissed off with Cliff and his constant pot smoking, couldn’t help but feel bad for him. James got out of his chair, and went over to him.

“Dude, don’t cry over a silly, old, dress,” he said. Someday you’ll buy tons of dresses. You’ll sleep, eat, and shit dresses. You’ll be sick of buying dresses.”

“James is right,” Kirk said. “You’ll have plenty of other times to buy dresses.”

“It’s not the fucking dress!” Cliff yelled as he chucked his coffee mug across the room. It slammed against the wall, spilling lukewarm coffee all over the place. “I don’t give a flying fuck about the dress, but I do give a fuck about Cecily! After tonight, we probably aren’t ever going to see her again.”

“I know Man,” nodded James. “I’m going to miss Cecily’s Mom. Damn, I’m going to miss her.”

“We knew that this was going to happen Cliff,” Kirk said softly as he squeezed Cliff’s hand. “We knew that we were going to come clean at the gala, and that yeah, Cecily is probably going to be very hurt and pissed off when she finds out that she doesn’t have a daddy. You probably shouldn’t have gotten so attached to her. Like I said, you knew what was going to happen.”

“Yeah but,” Cliff moaned through tears. “I thought that I would at least get to give her that pretty dress.” He blew his nose on Kirk’s snazzy leather jacket. “And Lars can say whatever he wants about her not being my daughte," he rambled on. "She’s my girl. I spend a lot more time with her than Lars does. She’s my little girl, and I don’t even get to say goodbye…”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
oh no!! LARS YOU TWAT!! he REALLY deserves a good backhand for that!

i felt so sorry for cliff in this chapter, how could lars do that! to poor cliffy! and cecily now wont be able to wear that pretty dress with the swishy skirt :( :(

great update!
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Yeah, poor Cliff and James. That whole candyand pot bit really did happen to a couple of friends and mine. They weren't detained though. :dance
and I'm in a blissful mood today. :dance

and just for the hell of it :dance


Chapter 21- Drawings and Dresses


“Cecily darling,” Lars called later that afternoon. “Whatever are you up to?”

Cecily had been sitting quietly, drawing Cliff another picture. She was trying to illustrate the Misfits stories that he told her. She thought that he would appreciate illustrations to go along with them. She had carefully drawn all four of the Misfit children: Evan, Magnolia, Lucy, and Willum, along with their dog, Sir Diefenbaker, sitting in the garden at their wealthy uncle’s estate. Cecily put down her crayon and smiled up at Lars.

“Just finishing another drawing for Mr. Cliff,” replied Cecily. She held up the drawing for Lars to see. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

Cecily had even written in very, very, rough penmanship

To: Mr. Clif. Lotz ov Luve, Cecily.

Lars was hit with the jealousy pangs once again. Cecily hadn’t drawn any pictures for him.

“Your spelling could sure be improved,” he scoffed. “I guess that’s what Welsleydale is for.”

Cecily looked very, very, hurt. Lars immediately wished that he could take back what he had said. In truth, for a fucking five-year-old, Cecily was quite a good little artist. She must have inherited that from her mother, who could decorate cakes. Lars had to admit that the drawing was quite good. The only problem with it was that it was for Cliff.

“I’m sorry,” a crestfallen Cecily mumbled. “Mr. Kirk wasn’t around to help me with my spelling.” She took back her drawing, and went back to coloring in Lucy’s dress.

Fock!” Lars said to himself. “ I’m constantly fucking up around Cecily. I just made her feel bad. Even when I’m not trying to be, I still come across as a dick.

Lars then got an idea.

“Cecily,” he said sweetly. “I have a surprise for you.”

Cecily looked up from her coloring.

“For me?” she asked. “But it’s not my birthday.”

“I know that,” replied Lars, though he honestly didn’t know when the fuck Cecily’s birthday even was. “This present is for just because.”

“I thought you said that it’s bad to buy children presents for just because,” said Cecily.

“Do you want the present or not?” Lars snapped, growing impatient with Cecily’s childish banter.

“Of course I want it!” Cecily cried. “May I have it now?”

“Certainly,” Lars nodded. He went over to the closet, and pulled out a brown parcel. Having today be the particular day that James and Cliff got themselves detained had worked out just perfectly. Lars could now give Cecily the dress that he had chosen, not a dress that was chosen for his daughter by somebody else.

Cecily’s eyes lit up as Lars handed her the parcel. Lars had to admit that it did feel pretty good giving his little girl a gift.

“Thank you Daddy,” Cecily remembered to say as she worked on opening the parcel.

“You’re welcome Sweetie,” Lars replied as he poured himself a glass of Scotch. He was now getting used to the daughter thing. “Sweetie,” he said as he took a swig of the Scotch. “Remind me again, just when is your birthday?”

Cecily looked up from the parcel that she was still trying to get open and smiled.

“May twenty-first,” she replied, and went back to opening her package.

“May twenty-first,” Lars repeated, committing the date to memory. It was his daughter’s birthday, a beautiful, and wonderful day! Since Lars had been with Claudia late in the summer, it seemed about right too.

Cecily had finally gotten the parcel unwrapped.

“Daddy is there a dress in here?” she asked.

“Open up the box and find out,” replied Lars. “Watching my kid open up presents is fun,” he thought.

“This is the first time that I’ve ever opened a present from my Father,” Cecily breathed.

“Cecily, just open the goddamn box!” Lars squawked.

Cecily took a deep breath. She knew that the parcel was a dress box. Could it be? she thought. Could it be my purple dress with puffed sleeves, a lavender sash, and swishy skirt?”

Cecily made one last silent wish as she carefully lifted off the lid, and reached down into the tissue paper. Staring back at her in the box was brown muslin. Stiff, practical, staid, and very unglamorous, brown muslin. Cecily picked up the dress and held it up in midair.
It had a very stiff looking collar, and it had dreadful, unromantic, long sleeves.

“Do you like it?” Lars asked. “I thought that it was a very nice dress indeed.”

Cecily looked up at her father. He looked so pleased with himself. It wasn’t the dress that she wanted but it was a dress, and most of all, it was from her father. Cecily had dreamed about having a dad to buy her toys and clothes for ages, and now she finally had one.

“I love it,” she replied. “Thank you Daddy.”

She stood up, went over to Lars, and gave him a big hug. Lars couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter. He gently stroked the top of her little head.

“You’re certainly welcome ma petite,” he said as he kissed her head. “You will look very nice in your dress at the gala tonight. It was a somewhat costly dress, so take care of it.”

“I will Daddy,” replied Cecily. She looked over at the dress again. Brown and yellow were an awfully nasty color combination. “Even if it is an expensive dress, I will still look like a little brown field mouse,” Cecily thought. “No frills, no sash, it’s a practical looking dress. A practical looking dress, for a practical looking girl.”

“Run along now Cecily,” Lars instructed. “You can go try on your new dress. Daddy has some work to do over at the studio.”

“Yes sir,” Cecily nodded. She decided that she would go find Cliff. She could give him the picture that she had drawn, and maybe she could model her new dress for him. Even if she did look like a boring, brown, turd, she knew that he could make her feel better. He’d make her feel as if she had been given the prettiest dress in the entire world.

***

The clock now read a quarter past five, and Emily was growing anxious. The shop normally closed at five, but she was waiting on Cliff to come and pick up the dress. For the past two days, any moment of down time that she had was spent working on Cecily’s dress. Last night, she had worked until four in the morning on it. She had actually fallen asleep with the dress and cascades of fine purple taffeta in her lap. Miss Lancz, her boss, had scolded her for offering to alter the dress at no charge.

“You could have made at least four hundred dollars,” she had said.

“I know, but it’s for a little girl,” Emily sighed. “I don’t think the girl has many dresses, and she doesn’t have a very good home situation.”

Not only had Emily given Cecily her swishy skirt, but she had also used some of the extra purple taffeta to make Cecily a matching purse, and hair ribbon. She had also carefully starched and pressed the dress, so that it was fit for the Queen of Denmark herself.

“I guess it is custom for rock and roll people to be fashionably late,” Emily said aloud. It was now going on five-thirty. Besides Emily, Miss Lancz was back in the counting room closing out the books for the day. Everyone else had gone home

“But with the gala to get ready for, you’d think they’d want to be on time, unless they’re planning on being late for the gala too,” Emily mused.

Emily couldn’t help but smile at the pretty, purple, dress. With the new swishy skirt it would be absolutely perfect for dancing in. She wondered and hoped that this little Cecily girl would like it. She certainly did have a very nice and generous friend or adopted dad, even if he did smoke cigarettes in her shop.

It was now five-forty-five. Where could he possibly be? He had already paid for the dress in full, why didn’t he pick it up? Had he forgotten? Emily contemplated just closing up for the night, but then all of her work would be to waste. She had worked endlessly to finish the dress just for the gala. If he didn’t get it by tonight, then there would have been no point in busting her ass to finish the dress.

“Come on Cliff,” Emily muttered as she drummed her fingers on the counter. “You’re the one who just had to have the swishy skirt.”

Miss Lancz came out of the counting room. She had on her coat and hat and was ready to leave.

“Emily!” she gasped. “You’re still here!” She then saw the purple swishy dress hanging up behind the counter. “And so is that dress. That really annoys me. Here they demand you do a rush alteration on it, and they can’t even pick it up on time.”

“I never dreamed that Mr. Burton would be this late,” admitted Emily.

“You give Mr. Burton ten more minutes Emily,” Miss Lancz said firmly. “If he doesn’t come by then, it’s his loss. Since he already paid for the dress, if you’d like, you can take it down to the orphanage and give it to some little girl down there.”

“Yes ma’am,” Emily replied.

“I hate to say it, but this is what happens when you do things for charity. People take advantage of you,” Miss Lancz went on.

“I know,” Emily sighed glumly. She had been so stupid. Her fingers and wrists were even a little sore from all of the sewing she had had to do just to finish the dress in time, and now it looked like it was all for nothing. “I guess I thought that someone who was nice enough to act as an adopted father for a little girl wouldn’t bail out on a dress that he had bought for her, especially after he had paid for it. I guess I should have known better than to trust rocker guys with long hair and skull shirts.”
“Don’t say that Emily,” said Miss Lancz. “One of our best customers is a rocker guy with long hair. His name is Kirk, and he’s a pleasant fellow, and comes in here all of the time.”

“Kirk was with Mr. Burton,” Emily said.

Miss Lancz’s eyes went wide.

“Kirk is always in here buying material and ribbons for his dolls,” she said. “I’ve even saved scraps of fabric from the end of the fabric spools for him, and last year I even showed him how to quilt. I think he plays in a band called Metallic or something like that.”

“Metallica,” Emily corrected. “The next time that you see Kirk, tell him that his friend Cliff is really rude.”

“Young Master Hammett has always been polite and well behaved every time that he has been in this shop,” said Miss Lancz. “I really don’t think that he’s the type of person who would even hang around someone who is rude and inconsiderate. When he’s in the area, he’s a very good customer here, and I don’t want to lose his business.”

“What should I do?” asked Emily.

Miss Lancz looked thoughtful as she gazed at the pretty, purple, ownerless, dress.

“As I recall, he mentioned that they were working on a new album,” she finally said. “Perhaps they got sidetracked or caught up at the studio, and just couldn’t make it over here. I believe that he and his band are all staying at the Hotel Iroquois. Why don’t you just take the dress over there, and leave it for Master Hammett’s friend? They’ll know which room to send it up to. I’ll help you bag it up.” Miss Lancz grabbed a clear dress bag out of the cupboard.

Emily was surprised. Usually, Miss Lancz was a very stern business woman, with her no refund polices, and discounts. Emily couldn’t help but dance with excitement. Maybe little Cecily would get to wear the fabulous purple dress after all…
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
aww i liked this chapter alot. :) but i wonder which dress little cecily will be wearing to the gala. i hope she gets to wear the purple dress!

that miss lancz sounds pretty nice =) telling emily wear the guys were staying.
and i wonder why kirk and cliff didnt go and see emily.

great update!
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Thanks MissMetallica! You rock!!

here's some more for you, since everyone that I know is off reading Harry Potter, and I have nothing else to do on a Saturday night.





Chapter 22- Mr. Chelton to the Rescue


“Ahhh!” wailed Kirk Hammett as a limousine sped by, spraying all kinds of nasty, gray, slush all over his tight black jeans, and lily white high top sneakers. “My new sneakers from Mom are ruined!” he cried. “You asshole!” he yelled, but the limousine was now out of sight. The limousine reminded him of something: the gala. Kirk glanced down at his watch. It was now six o’clock. They should have been almost ready to leave for the gala themselves, but since James and Cliff had gotten into trouble, there was no point in Kirk going to the gala alone just to sit and watch Lars slop all over his dad for the entire evening.

Kirk walked by the milliner’s shop. It was dark and closed up. It was such a shame that they couldn’t have picked up Cecily’s pretty, purple, dress. He half expected to see it on display in the window, ready for resale. It wasn’t though. Since it had been altered, they probably couldn’t resell it. Would they throw it away instead?

“Sorry Cliff. Sorry Cecily,” Kirk moaned as he pressed his nose against the glass windowpane of the dress shop. He was admiring a piece of rose chintz fabric, when he heard the familiar voice of Mr. Chelton bellow from across the street

“Kirk Lee Hammett! You get in from the cold this instant! You’ll catch your death out here!”

Kirk whirled around. Mr. Chelton was getting ready to close his shop across the street.

“I’m fine Mr. Chelton!” Kirk yelled back.

“Hogwash!” Mr. Chelton snorted. “You said yourself that I’m your adopted father, and as your adopted father, I order you to come inside my shop at once for a mug of hot, spiced, wassail and some gingerbread!”

“If you insist,” laughed Kirk as he waded through the slush. He had to admit that he was rather chilled, especially since his feet and pant legs had gotten all wet. As he entered the door of Mr. Chelton’s shop, he was greeted by warmth, and the aroma of cloves and honey.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you out and about this evening,” Mr. Chelton said as he fixed Kirk a mug of wassail. “It’s Tuesday night. I thought that you’d be at that Father of the Year Gala.”

“I’m not going,” replied Kirk as he warmed his hands up at the space heater. “Only Lars is going, and it’s not like he really needs me there.”

“Whatever is the matter with young master Cliff and James?” asked Mr. Chelton.

Kirk couldn’t believe it, but he found himself reciting absolutely everything to Mr. Chelton. He told him about James and Cliff being detained, the purple dress, Lars ripping up the claim ticket, and all about Operation Cecily Ulrich. Mr. Chelton listened intently, not uttering a word.

“I’m sorry Mr. Chelton,” said Kirk as he pathetically clung to his mug of wassail. “I know that tricking Lars into believing that he has a daughter was an evil and spiteful thing to do. You must think that I’m a horrible person. We never intended it to go this far.”

Mr. Chelton was very quiet. He looked over at the cauldron of wassail that was bubbling on the stove. “That poor little girl,” he murmured.

“I know,” Kirk nodded. He stared down into his empty mug. Tears began to sting his eyes.

“Now don’t cry Kirk,” said Mr. Chelton as he got up to put an arm around him. “You have gotten yourselves into quite a pickle, but at some point in their lives so does everybody. You do need to come clean to Lars, and to Cecily and her Mom, but I suggest that tonight at the gala in front of half of Copenhagen is not the place to do it. I know that you wanted to teach your friend a lesson, but it’s not far to Cecily. I’m not too fond of Lars Ulrich myself. That boy has always been a dick to me, but I think that you guys have put him through enough. He’s probably grown very attached to the child himself, so just taking the news that she isn’t his daughter will be hard enough, even if you tell him in private.”

“I guess you’re right,” nodded Kirk.

“I’m surprised that Lars didn’t order a paternity test,” Mr. Chelton mused as he fixed Kirk another mug of wassail, and refilled the plate of gingerbread.

“A what?” Kirk asked.

“A paternity test of course,” Mr. Chelton replied.

“What’s a paternity test?” Kirk asked, as he stuffed a cookie into his mouth.

“It’s a simple swab test done to test DNA from a father and a child to see if the child is really his,” Mr. Chelton explained. “They usually require it for child support.”

“I’ve never heard of that,” admitted Kirk.

“Apparently neither has Lars,” said Mr. Chelton.

“Does it hurt?” Kirk asked.

“I dunno,” replied Mr. Chelton. “I’ve never had one.”

Kirk couldn’t bear to think about little Cecily being stuck and poked with needles and shit.

“Can it really prove paternity?” Kirk asked. Mr. Chelton nodded

“I believe that it’s very accurate.”

The two sat in silence with their mugs of wassail in the empty guitar shop watching the snow mosey down from the sky in soft, peaceful, flakes. Kirk envied them, for they didn’t have a care in the world.

“So is Lars going to bail your friends out tomorrow then?” Mr. Chelton finally asked.

Kirk sighed. “I guess so,” he said. “I tried to get them out today. Cliff has a crazy Aunt Josephine who is extremely wealthy, but all that she can do is send over a check or money order from the United States. It would take at least a week to get it here, and I don’t think that Cliff and James want to stay locked in a conference room for a week.”

“You’d rather have them out tonight?” Mr. Chelton asked.

“Of course,” Kirk replied. “They’re my friends, and then we could go to the gala. I just don’t have a thousand dollars in my bank account. I don’t even have enough to bail one of them out.”

“How good are Lars or this Aunt Josephine for the money?” Mr. Chelton asked. Kirk looked at Mr. Chelton.

“What are you saying?” he asked, his eyes growing wide.

“If you really wanted your friends out tonight I could help you,” answered Mr. Chelton. “But I would need to be paid back by next week sometime. I was planning on using that money for Christmas presents, but if I get it back by next week, I should be fine.”

“You’d do that?” Kirk asked.

“You’re my adopted son aren’t you?” Mr. Chelton replied. “Any friends of yours, are friends of mine, and it sounds like you have two friends in need.”

Kirk ran up to hug Mr. Chelton.

“This is the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me!” he cried. “My own dad has never even come close to doing something so nice.”

“There, there,” Mr. Chelton sighed. “My wife will say that I have been foolish, but I believe that it’s for a good cause. Just promise me that this crazy, wealthy, aunt of Cliff’s will pay me back. I really don’t trust Lars.”

“I promise you Mr. Chelton,” Kirk said sincerely. “She’s a little crazy, smoked too much weed in her day, but she’s filthy rich. A thousand dollars is nothing for her. I’ll call her first thing when I get back to the hotel.”

“No,” said Mr. Chelton as he reached for his checkbook. “The first thing that we’re going to do is bail James and Cliff out of that conference room before they kill each other.”

***

Emily pushed her way through the revolving door at the Hotel Iroquois. The purple dress wrapped up neatly in a clear dress bag was clutched safely in her arms. The hotel lobby was bustling with excitement. She noticed the Concierge was packing up his briefcase, getting ready to leave.

“Excuse me sir!” she called as she ran over to him. “I’m looking for a Mr. Cliff Burton’s room.”

The Concierge dude frowned at her.

“What’s a pretty little thing like yourself doing running around with a ruffian like Cliff Burton?” he scowled. “Surely, you can do better than him.”

Emily turned beet red.

“That’s not what I meant,” she stammered. She gestured to the dress. “I have a dress to drop off to him.”

The Concierge glanced at the mound of purple taffeta that was in Emily’s arms.

“I don’t think that Cliff Burton wears dresses,” he stated. “Especially dresses made of fine silk.”

“It’s taffeta, not silk,” Emily corrected. “And Cliff isn’t going to be the one wearing it. It’s for his daughter Cecily. Actually, she’s his adopted daughter.”

“She’s not his adopted daughter,” snapped the Concierge. “No one in their right minds would give that man a child. Trust me on that. Cecily is actually our pastry chef’s little daughter. There’s a rumor floating around the hotel that the drummer from some God forsaken heavy metal band is her father.”

“That’s the right little girl,” Emily replied. “Do you know where I can find her?”

“More than likely she’s with her mother. They’ve been living in room 512 until her mother can afford a place for them to live,” the Concierge replied. “You’re more than welcome to go up there and deliver it to her.”

“Thank you,” nodded Emily, happy that the purple dress would finally be reunited with it’s owner.

Cecily was alone crying yet again. She had had a terrible day, and to top it all off, she couldn’t find Mr. Cliff anywhere.

“Mummy,” she had said earlier. “Daddy is taking me to the Father of the Year Gala.”

“I know,” Claudia sighed as she reapplied her lipstick. “Don’t tell me that you entered him in that nonsense. He’s hardly been a father to you at all. He thinks that he can just whirl in here and buy you a new dress and a doll, and that constitutes being Father of the Year, and he is not taking you back to California with him.”

Cecily was so tired of her parents sniping at each other. Why couldn’t they be happy parents like her best friend Jess’s parents?

“Don’t worry Mummy,” said Cecily. “Daddy says that his dad is sure to win. Do you think that you could help me with my hair?”

Cecily was already dressed in her brown muslin dress. She had located two pretty red barrettes. Even if they didn’t exactly match her dress, at least they were a pretty color. She needed help putting them in though.

“Not now Cecily!” Claudia replied shortly as she applied eyeliner.

“But Daddy’s coming to take me to the gala really soon,” Cecily argued. “Since I don’t have a pretty dress with a lavender sash and a swishy skirt I thought that-”

“Would you quit mumbling about that moronic sounding dress!” Claudia demanded. “It sounds like a dress that a Vegas cocktail waitress would wear. Honestly Cecily, you have as much sense as a flea. Has Mr. Burton been filling your head with this nonsense?”

Cecily’s face fell. Claudia turned to face her little daughter who did look rather cute in the brown muslin, even if it was world’s ugliest dress. She softened

“I’m sorry love,” she said as she squirted herself with cheap perfume that smelled like a New Orleans whorehouse. “I’d love to help you with your hair, but I just don’t have the time right now. Mr. James got himself into a little bit of trouble last night, and he’s being kept up in a conference room. I’m going to visit him. Have Mr. Burton help you.”

Cecily had known the moment that her mother had got out the cheap perfume, that she must be heading out to see Mr. James.

“I can’t find Mr. Cliff anywhere,” she cried. “Please, won’t you at least do my hair? I want to look pretty.”

“It’s going to take more than just two little barrettes to make you look pretty in that ugly dress that your father picked out,” said Claudia. “Have him help you with you hair. But then again, considering his taste in dresses, I guess that you really wouldn’t want him touching your hair.”

Claudia grabbed her purse and gave Cecily a quick little kiss on the cheek. Cecily was on the verge of tears. Even her own mother thought that she looked ugly in her horrid brown dress.

“Goodbye love,” Claudia said. “You have fun at the gala tonight, and mind your father. I’ll be back late.”

And with that, her mother was out the door, and Cecily was alone. Cecily looked down at the two little red barrettes that were in her hand.

“Mr. Cliff would have dropped everything that he was doing to help me with my hair,” Cecily said aloud. “Even if he were in the middle of getting laid.”

Cecily plopped down at her mother’s vanity table. “I do look ugly,” she sighed. “And this stupid, brown, dress doesn’t help.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door. It seemed early to be her dad, but maybe he wanted to get to the gala early. “Who’s there?” Cecily called as she made her way over to the door.

“I have a delivery for a Miss Cecily,” the voice on the other side of the door replied. At the sound of her name, Cecily opened the door at once. There stood a beautiful lady, holding a clear bag that was stuffed with cascades of purple taffeta.

“I’m Cecily,” Cecily said shyly, feeling short and frumpy in her ugly, brown, frock in front of a pretty lady.

“Then this is for you,” the lady replied, and placed the mound of taffeta in Cecily’s hands. Cecily’s mouth dropped open. It was a dress. And not just any old dress, but a dark purple dress with puffed sleeves, a lavender sash, and swishy skirt.

“But, but, who’s it from?” Cecily stammered. She was in shock and awe over even holding such a dress in her own two hands, let alone being able to actually wear it. “Is it from my Dad?” she asked.

“Not exactly, but it’s from someone who loves you as much as a dad would,” replied Emily.

Cecily’s face broke out into a huge smile, as she ever so carefully handled the dress bag, careful not to smooch her new dress. “I know who it is!” she exclaimed. “This dress is from Mr. Cliff!”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
AWWWWW! now that was just sweet! maybe cecily will finally be able to wear the dress she's always wanted!

that claudia. man shes a self-centred cow! i just wanna take away her parental rights! :lol:

thankyou so much for the update, i havent even got the new harry potter book... as a matter of fact. i havent even read the 5th one :lol:

and verity, you rock way more!!
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Verity
Member Avatar
The Story Girl
[ * ]
Awww, thanks Miss Metallica. That comment made my day.

:dance



Chapter 23- In and Out of the Conference Room


“Ha ha!” James Hetfield laughed. “Rock breaks scissors!” And with vigor he took his fist and smashed Cliff’s two fingers down hard onto the conference table.

“Ouch you fucking shit fuck!” Cliff yelped in pain as he stroked his two battered fingers. “Must you always be so rough?”

“Fuck you!” snarled James. “I’ve had way too much of you for one day.”

“Like wise,” Cliff retorted.

Cliff and James had been locked up in the conference room together for nearly fourteen hours. They had played games of tic tac toe and hangman until the security people said they couldn’t have anymore scratch paper. For the past three hours they had been playing paper, scissors, rock, and it was now getting pretty tiresome.

“Want to play again?” James asked.

“Not if I want to be able to play the bass ever again,” Cliff moaned, still rubbing his two fingers.

Cliff glanced up at the clock. It was now a quarter past six. They should have been on their way to the gala by now, and Cecily should have had her glorious purple dress. Surely by now the dress shop would be closed, and Emily must be so fucking angry at him for not picking up the dress. It was a shame, because Cliff thought that in a sweet way, she was kind of pretty, and wouldn’t have minded “getting together” with her.

“I wish your rich aunt would bail us out,” James said.

“I don’t think that she knows we’re in here,” responded Cliff. “Unless Kirk told her. If Kirk comes back to see us, we’ll ask him to give her a call. She’d help us for sure. I’m her favorite nephew.”

Just then, the door to the conference room opened, but it wasn’t Kirk. It was Claudia. She was dressed as if she were going out to an exclusive nightclub for the night, instead of just visiting James in the conference room.

“Claudia baby!” James squealed as he jumped up to hug her.

Claudia gave James a big, sloppy, kiss right on the lips. Cliff looked the other way, and tuned his attention to his lukewarm coffee.

“How’s my little convict?” Claudia cooed. “Actually, my big, strong, hunk-of-man convict.”

“You got that right,” chirped James. “I am big. Very big. Big, big, big. As big as-”

James was interrupted by Cliff spitting out his coffee all over the place. For the first time, Claudia noticed that Cliff was there, and that her and James were not alone.

“What’s he doing here?” she demanded in a disgusted tone.

“Cliff is the reason that we got busted,” said James. “He’s being detained with me.”

Claudia was visibly disappointed. When she had heard that James was being held in a private conference room for stealing candy, she thought that it was rather funny. She also liked the idea of a “private” conference room. Now it wasn’t private anymore.

“Hey Claudia,” said Cliff. “How’s Cecily doing?”

Claudia scowled.

“She’s none of your concern,” she replied shortly. “She’s going to the Father of the Year Gala tonight with Lars.”

“That’s sweet,” James replied. “I wonder if she entered old Larsy into the contest.”

“She has no reason to,” Claudia snapped. “He’s been her father for like what? A week?”

“She did enter him,” Cliff piped up. “She told me that she was writing an essay for the contest.”

Claudia just glared at Cliff as if Cliff had been the one who had made Cecily enter the contest.

“She doesn’t know anything about having a dad,” Claudia mumbled.

“Lars is learning though,” James said. “Pretty soon he’ll be letting her paint his fingernails, and playing dress up. But enough of that bullshit. Let’s just concentrate on us.” James led Claudia over to a far corner of the room. “Cliff, could you turn around for a few minutes?” asked James.

Cliff sighed, and turned his chair so that his back was to Claudia and James. “I’m just the dog,” he quipped bitterly. It was bad enough being stuck in a conference room with James Hetfield, let alone James making out with some chick. He knew that if it wasn’t for his presence, Claudia would have had James naked and on that conference table within minutes. The woman was a slut.

“Oh James, my little Jamie bear,” Claudia moaned.

“Jamie bear?” Cliff repeated.

“Shut the fuck up Burton!” James growled. “It’s not my fault that you can’t get any!”

“It’s not mine either,” Cliff muttered under his breath as Claudia squealed and moaned even louder. Cliff plugged his ears. He tried to think about Cecily, but it was just too difficult. All he could think about was the sad, little, girl that he would probably never see again, wearing Lars’s ugly brown dress.

“If Cecily were my daughter, I’d never make her wear a hideous brown dress,” he thought to himself. “I wouldn’t buy her new dresses all of the time, just for special occasions like the gala, and Christmas. I’d buy her a pretty red Christmas dress. Doesn’t every little girl get a new dress at Christmas? She’d get one at Easter too, and a hat to go with it. Fuck, I’m starting to turn into Kirk Hamster, thinking about dresses and shit. Pretty soon, I’ll be having tea parties.”

Cliff was brought out of his thoughts by Claudia shrieking like a banshee, and James’s heavy breathing. “Okay,” he thought. “This is really fucking gross.” Cliff was just about to end James and Claudia’s little rendezvous when the conference room door burst open yet again. This time, it was a security guard.

“Oh my!” he exclaimed. “I never dreamed. Claudia, you know these people?”

Claudia turned red, and slid off of James.

“As a matter of fact, I do Rodney. James here, is my boyfriend,” she said as she began to fix her mussed hair.

“Of the moment,” quipped Rodney. He turned to Cliff and James. “That little curly haired pansy that you hang around with bailed you two out. You are free to leave.”

“Wow, the Ham Man actually did something right for a change,” remarked James as he gave Claudia a playful slap on her glorious, wonderful, ass.

“Come Jamie,” said Claudia. “Let’s go somewhere private, and get back to what we were doing.”

“You got that right darling,” James replied as he and Claudia hurried out of the room.

“I think that woman has slept with every single male guest that has stayed at this hotel,” Rodney muttered to Cliff as he watched them leave. “You've been with her?”

“Me?” Cliff asked. “Fuck no. I’ve never been with that chick.”

“I have,” boasted Rodney. “But so has every male security guard here, except Edward, but he’s old and senile. I know that you want to get with her, but really, she’s overrated.”

“I don’t want to get with Claudia, trust me,” Cliff replied. “Yeah she’s hot and all, but I don’t like the way that she treats her daughter.”

“Yeah, the poor little thing,” Rodney nodded. “I see you two together all of the time. I thought that maybe the reason that you were hanging out with her a lot was to try and win her Mom over.”

“I’d never stoop down that low!” Cliff exclaimed. “If I wanted a fuck that bad, I’d just go down to Hattie’s Whorehouse down the street. I spend a lot of time with Cecily because somebody needs to. Her mother sure doesn’t.”

“I agree,” Rodney muttered as he led Cliff out of the conference room. “Oh yeah,” he said. “Here’s your cigarettes back.” He handed Cliff his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. “I hope you didn’t mind that I took one.”

“Not at all,” Cliff replied, as he dove into the pack of cigarettes as if it had been a month since he had last smoked, instead of just a day. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you known Claudia and Cecily?”

“Claudia came to work here when Cecily was just a little baby,” Rodney replied. “I know that Marie, the head of housekeeping used to watch Cecily while Claudia was uh, well you know, out and about.”

“Have you ever met Cecily’s father?” Cliff asked.

“Now that is one of the biggest mysteries of the Hotel Iroquois,” laughed Rodney. “I bet that half of the men in Denmark could very well be the father of Claudia’s little girl. I don’t even think that Claudia knows. It’s rumored that it might be a very wealthy but young, businessman from London. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” Cliff answered as he took a long puff on the cigarette.

He felt terrible. It seemed like there was no way that they could ever find Cecily’s real father for her. Chances were that it wasn’t Lars, and Cecily would find that out tonight. But if Cliff could find her real father, maybe then it wouldn’t be so bad. What if her real father just didn’t know that she existed? Maybe he was just a young, single, and extremely wealthy man who lived all alone, and would just love to have a little daughter of his own to love and buy wonderful dresses for.

***

“You look beautiful Cecily, you really do,” Emily gasped as she put the finishing touches on Cecily’s hair. With the utmost care, she tied the purple ribbon that she had made to go with Cecily’s dress. She had carefully done Cecily’s hair in two little French braids, and then tied the ends together with the bow. “Are you ready to see?” she asked. Cecily nodded. Emily led Cecily over to the mirror.

Cecily gasped. She couldn’t even believe that staring back at her was the same girl who had looked plain and uninspired only just a few minutes before.

“Oh Miss Emily!” Cecily exclaimed. “Thank you so much! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“That dress looks great on you,” said Emily. “The skirt looks amazing, if I do say so myself.”

Cecily twirled in front of the mirror, sending the skirt swirling about her as if it were a purple cloud. From the very moment that Emily had slid the dress over her head, she felt as if she were dreaming. As Cecily walked, the skirt seemed to float around her. Cecily twirled again. She could never get tired of looking at the fantastic dress in the mirror, and it was all because of Cliff and Miss Emily.

“Do you really think that I look pretty?” Cecily asked.

“Absolutely,” nodded Emily. “The dress needs a necklace though.” Quickly, Emily undid the small locket necklace that she had been wearing, and fastened it around Cecily’s neck. “You can borrow this for tonight, but then I must have it back. It’s from my Father.”

“I wonder if someday my Father will buy me a locket,” stated Cecily. She stood very still as Emily fastened the locket around her neck. “Do you think that he will?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Emily, choosing not to get too involved with any talk regarding Cecily’s father. From what she had heard, he didn’t seem like he was all that involved with his little girl, but she want to get Cecily’s hopes down.

“It’s very beautiful,” said Cecily as she carefully opened up the locket. “Whose pictures are these?”

“That’s my Mum and Dad,” answered Emily. “They’re my only family.”

“Don’t you have any brothers or sisters?” Cecily asked.

“Nope,” replied Emily, shaking her head.

“Me either,” said Cecily, glad to have something in common with the beautiful lady. Just then, there was a knock on the hotel room door.

“Cecily!” The voice of Lars called. “Are you in there honey? Daddy’s ready to take you to the gala now.”

“I hope he isn’t too mad,” Cecily whispered to Emily, as she headed towards the door.

“Why on earth would he be mad?” asked Emily.

“Because I’m not wearing the dress that he bought for me,” replied Cecily.

“He won’t be mad in the least,” Emily reassured her. “You’re wearing a dress that was given to you by his friend, and you look beautiful in it. He’ll be happy to see you looking like a princess.”

Cecily smiled. The beautiful lady must be right. However, her worry came back as soon as she opened up the door, and saw Lars’s face.

“Cecily!” exclaimed a dumbfounded Lars. “Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me Daddy!” replied Cecily. She twirled around in front of him. “Don’t I look pretty?”

Lars was in complete shock. For one thing, he wasn’t expecting to see Cecily dolled up in royal purple taffeta with a swishy skirt. He also had never dreamed that Cecily could look that pretty. She looked great with her hair back. Actually, she looked radiant. If she looked that radiant at five, she’d be drop dead gorgeous by the time she was fifteen. He would surely have to worry about the boys flocking about.

“What’s wrong Daddy?” Cecily asked, as she grabbed his hand. “Do you not think that I look pretty? Am I still too practical looking?”

“Cecily,” said Lars once he had regained his composure. “Where on earth did you get that dress?”

“Miss Emily brought it to me,” answered Cecily as she gestured towards Emily. “But it’s from Mr. Cliff. Isn’t he the most wonderful person in the world?”

“No,” returned Lars, as he rudely pulled his hand away from the confused Cecily’s. “He most certainly is not!”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
MissMetallica;;
Member Avatar
Poor Twisted Me
[ * ]
uh oh. whats lars going to do now!

oh the suspense!!!

fantastic update verity, oh and you can call me kristen :)
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Shayi
Member Avatar
Bring me that horizon
[ * ]
Oh my oh my! I've just been playing catch up with all these episodes and man oh man did I laugh at Cliff and James getting locked up! And Mr Chelton is an absolute angel - Kirk is so lucky to have him as a father :)

And good on Kirk being such a good customer at the milliners - I think that he inadvertently saved the day - *G* What a sweetie!

James and Claudia still need a damned good wallop!

And as for Lars - What a wolly! Honestly! I can't wait to see what happens next in this, and *fingers crossed* I hope Mr Cliff gets to see Cecily in that dress.

This is so well written, and so so funny I really look forward to every single episode and they never seem to come quick enough ;) Mark up another point to show that you're an incredibly talented writer :) You've hooked this audience member well and truly!
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Het / Gen · Next Topic »
Add Reply