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| Daughter of the Year; Ze Sequel to Father of the Year | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: December 14, 2007, 12:15 am (11,153 Views) | |
| Battery | January 6, 2008, 9:35 am Post #136 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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“Oh we do sell out Burton,” James replied haughtily as he tossed his goldenrod locks over his shoulder. “We sell out stadiums. Giant, colossal, mammoth, stadiums.” oh how I love that :horns2 Cliff bustling over chick with three titties was funny But later he really overreacted (but I couldn't help laughing at him he's really obsessed ). Poor, poor Jackson though, it's really sweet and moving how he care about Cecily ... Scott was so great in the last chapter , maybe after this conversation Cliff will let Jackson stay at White Rock? I can't wait to see!!! “I know how you feel Jackson,” Cliff said to himself. “My mistakes cost me the woman that I love too…” and that line was SO great!!! :horns2 Awesome!
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| Lucifer's Angel | January 6, 2008, 9:56 am Post #137 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Poor Jackson It's cool that Cliff wants to go back to school, he's a smart dude, I'm sure he'll do great And Scott is right
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| Verity | January 6, 2008, 12:30 pm Post #138 |
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The Story Girl
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Simone- Nah, I can't sing like King Diamond. I can't sing at all. I've heard some Mercyful Fate but I don't have any of their albums though. I love your new siggy! Now I'll have some inspiration. Maggie- Whenever I write that one of the boys has tossed their hair over their shoulder, that's for you. Vanessa- I feel sorry for Jackson too. We'll see if he has to go, or gets to stay in this chapter. Chapter Thirty-Nine A dismal and dour Jackson sat out on the porch steps of White Rock, his head buried in his hands. Two overstuffed suitcases sat next to him, along with his bass and practice amp. Cliff had instructed him earlier to pack up his shit, and wait outside for his mother to come and pick him up. Francesca opened the screen door and stepped out onto the front porch. She was holding a paper grocery sack. “I made you and your mother a snack for your ride home,” she said as she sat down next to him on the step, and handed him the sack. “They’re two turkey sandwiches, some cheese, some grapes, pretzels, and a few cookies for your trouble,” she informed him. “James didn’t close and seal the bag up properly, so the pretzels might be a bit stale.” “Thank you Miss Francesca,” said Jackson as he set the snack bag down. “But I’m not really that hungry right now.” “You will be later,” Francesca returned. “No,” sighed Jackson as he began to pick at a spot of chipped paint that was on the step that he was sitting on. “As Cecily would say, I’m in the depths of despair.” “Cliff’s probably going to have one of his tantrums but if you’d like to say goodbye to her before you leave, I can tell you where she is,” said Francesca. “Of course I’d like to say goodbye to Cecily,” Jackson answered. “But I don’t want to make more trouble than I already have. I’m hoping that if I practice my bass really diligently that I can impressive Mr. Burton into giving me another chance with Cecily.” Francesca smiled at the young, determined, boy. If anything, Cliff was getting him to practice bass more. “I’m an adult,” she said. “And you have my permission to go see Cecily before you leave. She’s over on the beach, walking along the water. Don’t worry about Cliff. I’ll make sure that he stays out of the way and doesn’t find out.” “Oh thank you!” Jackson cried. “How can I ever repay you?” “Never mind that,” said Francesca. “Just hurry up and go find her, quick, before your mother arrives.” Jackson thanked Francesca one last time before he darted down the porch steps, down the hill, and straight to the beach. *** Cecily had found a collection of stones that she was angrily hurling into the water. For such a small creature, she had vast amounts of intense hatred within her. Now she could understand why people went out and composed such angry music. With each stone that she threw she imagined someone who had deeply angered her. “This one’s for you Claudia!” she said to the stone as she held it up in the air. “I haven’t done anything to you! I always tried to be a good daughter even though you were always a shitty mom! I fucking hate you!” She hurled the stone as far as she could throw into the water where it splashed its way out of sight. She picked up another rock. “This one is for you Dad!” she shouted. “You fucked up things with Miss Emily, and for that I will never forgive you!” She catapulted that rock into the water as well. “Cecily!” she heard a voice cry. She whirled around to find Jackson running towards her, his awkward-length shaggy hair fluttering about in the wind. “Jackson!” she exclaimed. “Jackson, if my Dad sees you with me he’s going to start bitching at us again.” “We don’t have to worry about him,” Jackson replied. “Miss Francesca is keeping him preoccupied so that he doesn’t see us. She gave me permission to come and find you.” “Miss Francesca is so wonderful,” Cecily sighed. “I’m sorry Cecily,” Jackson went on. “I’m sorry that I put you in danger last night hunting for ghosts. It was childish and stupid of me.” “You didn’t put me in danger,” said Cecily. “I put myself in danger, and nothing happened to us. We encountered a ghost, but fortunately neither one of us got hurt.” “You could have been hurt though,” pointed out Jackson. “I wish you didn’t have to leave,” said Cecily. “White Rock was lots more fun with you here. Now I’ll be here all alone with no one to help me pick on bitchy, plastic-whore, Clarisse.” “Maybe if I practice my bass really hard your Dad will have a change of heart, and let us hang out again,” said Jackson hopefully. “I hope so,” Cecily nodded. “Between Mandie and now you, I’m losing all of my friends.” Jackson’s heart sank. She thought of him as just a friend. Just like Mandie. “I’m going to miss hanging around with you,” he replied, looking rather sad. “I’ve never hung around much with a girl before.” “I’ve never hung around with a guy before,” Cecily said shyly. “You like King Diamond and shit,” Jackson stammered. He thrust a plastic CD case into her arms. “Take this,” he said. Cecily looked down. She was now holding a copy of King Diamond’s Them. “You don’t want to give me your King Diamond CD Jackson,” she said. “Yeah I do,” answered Jackson. “It’s just a little something to remember me by, in case your Dad doesn’t ever let me see you anymore.” “Thank you Jackson,” Cecily murmured, still looking down at the CD. “I don’t have anything to give to you.” “Well maybe if your Dad mellows out a bit,” started Jackson. “Maybe you could go with me to a school dance. My school has a beginning of the year dance every fall. I’ve never had anyone to go to it with before.” Cecily was beside herself. She had gone from not having anyone even ask her to dance at her school dance, to having a boy actually ask her to be his date to one. “Oh Jackson!” she gasped. “Of course I’d go with you. I bet that if you could play every single Geezer Butler bass line, and wrote my Dad a twenty page report on him, he’d let me go with you.” “Then I’ll start practicing,” Jackson replied. “And writing.” “And read The Call of Cthulhu,” Cecily went on. “That would really impress him too.” “The call of what?” asked Jackson making a face. Whatever it was, it sounded dreadful, but for Cecily he would read it. He’d fucking read and memorize all of War and Peace if he had to. “What the fuck is a Cthulhu?” he asked. “I’m not exactly sure,” admitted Cecily. “It sounds like a disease.” The two stood silently for a few minutes, until Jackson heard the sound of a car whipping down the dirt road towards the beach houses. His mother had arrived. He was now down to his last few minutes with Cecily. “Um Cecily,” he mumbled. “Yes?” Cecily replied. “I was wondering if you would, if you would, um, um,” Jackson stuttered. “If I would what?” asked Cecily. “Jackson!” Francesca bellowed from the front porch of the house. “Your Mother’s here!” “Shit,” Jackson muttered, looking down at the ground. He was out of time. He better shit or get off of the pot. “I was wondering,” he went on hastily. “If you would be my girlfriend?” Cecily felt as if she were caught in a dream. She must be some other girl. Stuff like this never happened to her. Cecily having a boyfriend? She’d be the first in her small, small, circle of friends to have one. Mandie only had a sort-of-boyfriend. “Okay,” she mumbled shyly, blushing. “Thanks,” Jackson replied, beaming like a ninny. “I’m going to spend the rest of my summer doing nothing except practicing bass, and reading that Cthulhu thing.” “Jackson!” Francesca bellowed yet again, her voice carrying throughout the entire beach. Without giving it another thought, Jackson closed his eyes and bent over. He planted a very quick kiss right on Cecily’s cheek. Cecily didn’t even have time to react. “Goodbye Cecily,” said Jackson one last time before he turned around and started running back towards the house. Cecily stood there dumbfounded until Jackson was out of sight. The past couple of seconds had all been a blur to her. Her hand rose right to the spot on her left cheek where Jackson had kissed her. She was very near fainting again, but fortunately she didn’t. *** Jackson giddily made his way back to the house and up the porch stairs. Jackson’s mother was standing on the porch talking with Francesca and Scott Ian. “Jackson!” she exclaimed as she hugged her son. “Are you alright? Your cheeks are completely red.” “I’m fine Mom,” answered Jackson. “I’ve just been running.” “As soon as we get home your stepfather and I are going to have a talk with you,” said his mother sternly. “I’ve heard that you flat out disobeyed Mr. Burton’s and Mr. Hetfield’s rules, and that you put Cecily in danger. Oh Jackson! How could you?” Jackson hung his head. “I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I just wanted to see if there were really ghosts.” Just then, a rather baked Cliff stumbled out onto the porch. His eyes immediately fixated upon Jackson’s mother’s tits. It had been a while since he had seen her. He had forgotten about what a nice rack she had. He noticed right away that the left one was just ever so slightly a wee bit bigger than the right one, something that Cliff found irresistibly hot. “I’m very sorry about my son Mr. Burton,” she said instantly. “I promise that he will be writing and sending you a written apology for disobeying your wishes.” “I want it to be six pages typed,” said Cliff, in very slow somewhat slurred, stoned, speech. “Double spaced, times new Roman. I don’t like that newfangled Currier font that people nowadays.” “Yes sir,” Jackson replied, a somewhat far, dreamy, look in his eyes. Cliff frowned at him. “Why don’t you go load your things into the car Jackson,” his Mother ordered. “I’ll be with you in a minute. I just would like to have a quick word with Mr. Burton before we leave.” Jackson’s heart thudded. Please don’t piss him off Mom, he thought. If you do that, not even all of the Black Sabbath songs in the world could make him let me see Cecily again. “Go on Jackson!” his Mother barked at him again. Jackson had no choice but to gather up his bass, bags, and other random shit and load them into the car. Jackson’s mother turned to Cliff. “My son was very wrong to disobey your rules,” she said. “Especially after how generous and hospitable you’ve been letting him stay at your lovely beachfront home.” “Damn right,” murmured Cliff as he lit a cigarette. He offered one to Jackson’s mother, still keeping his gaze plastered on her firm titties. Cliff wasn’t the only one who was ogling her boobs. Scott Ian’s eyes also were glued to them as if he had never seen a set of tits before. Jackson’s mother shook her head. “No thank you Mr. Burton,” she replied. “I just would like you to know that even though Jackson disobeyed you, he really does care about Cecily. I’ve never seen him so taken with a girl before. He’s even asked his sister and me about what kind of things do girls like, and how to talk to a girl, and even how to dance with a girl. Cecily seems like such a sweet little thing. I hope that you’ll let them continue to see each other.” Cliff mumbled something that sounded like a cross between a “fuck” and a “maybe.” Shortly after Jackson and his mother had left, Cecily came bounding up the porch steps. For just having her friend sent away, she seemed surprisingly in a good mood, and she was clutching a King Diamond CD as if it were gold plated and signed by King Diamond himself. Scott, Fran, and Cliff were sitting out on the porch. “Hey Cecily,” greeted Scott. “Hello Mr. Scott,” replied a bouncy Cecily. “Hello Miss Francesca.” She turned and gave her Dad a subtle nod. She was still pissed at him. Cliff eyed her up and down. “What the fuck are you so happy for?” he demanded as he let out a trail of smoke. “You sixty-nine the president or something?” “Not quite Daddy,” Cecily replied breezily. Cliff noticed that she was clutching a copy of King Diamond’s Them to her chest. “What’s with the King Diamond?” he asked. “Oh Daddy,” sighed Cecily. “Isn’t he dreamy?” “I’ve heard King Diamond called a lot of things before, but never dreamy,” replied Cliff. He looked thoughtful as he took a drag on his cigarette and watched Cecily practically float inside the house. He turned to Scott and Francesca. “Whatever she’s been smoking I want some,” he remarked. “She’s higher than a crack junkie fucking a porn star.” He shook his head, put out his cigarette, and then disappeared inside the house. “Cliff is right for once,” Scott said to Fran once they were alone. “For just being so upset over her Dad throwing Jackson out, she does seem awfully chipper. Maybe she found Cliff’s stash.” A small smile appeared on Francesca’s face. “Cecily is a bit high,” she said. “Only not the same way that Cliff is. She’s high on her first love…” |
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| Lucifer's Angel | January 6, 2008, 12:44 pm Post #139 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Aww, I think Fran is right. Cecily in love is so cute Hah, naughty Cliff, ogling Jackson's mom's tits, boys will be boys Hey, maybe he can get with Jackson' mom, then him and Cecily can be together. Hey, I can dream
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| Raedoll | January 6, 2008, 2:31 pm Post #140 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Oh dear. Cliff's going to shit a brick and have an aneurism (which is really bad on my part to say considerring his brother....) when he hears what Jackson's said to Cecily and the way she's acting baked. Uhoh. Fran better take over on Damage control! Cliff's an overbearing pompous guard dog, I swear. |
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| Verity | January 6, 2008, 9:20 pm Post #141 |
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The Story Girl
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Vanessa- I'm glad that you like Jackson and Cecily together. Rae- Pompous guard dog! That made me laugh. That needs to be cross stitched onto a pillow. This next chapter is so far my favorite in this. Not only does it add even more to the plot, but I wrote it in only fifteen minutes, which is fast for me because I don't type properly. I slowly peck type. I guess I was inspired that day. Chapter Forty The next day it was pouring rain at White Rock. The radar actually said that it was supposed to rain for the next three days. “What’d you know,” James wistfully sighed as he gazed longingly out the rain coated window. “I have a couple more days before I have to go back out on the road and it has to fucking rain.” “We could play Old Maid?” Scott Ian suggested. “Oh Mr. Scott,” laughed Cecily. “You always get your ass whooped when you play Old Maid.” “Yeah,” added James. “You always let everyone know when you get the Old Maid in your hand.” “Then what should we do?” Scott asked. “Beats me Man,” James shrugged and opened a bottle of beer. “I wish that Hamster were here. Usually he’s worthless, but on a rainy day he was actually useful.” “Mr. Kirk was always the best!” said Cecily. “He always knew of some fun craft project that we could do to pass the time. One year we made pincushions stuffed with sawdust, and another year we made dream catchers.” Just then, they heard Clarisse shouting from the upstairs bedroom. Since the great Claudia letter fiasco, she and Cliff had barely spoken to one another, choosing to pussyfoot around instead of confront each other. Today however, Cliff had finally decided to come to terms with Clarisse. They had been bickering all morning. “I can’t believe you!” she ranted. “You have to leave in a few days, and all that you can do is just scream at me?” “You went too far Clarisse!” Cliff yelled. “You had no right to give Cecily that letter! The poor girl is already fucked up enough!” “I thought that you wanted me to take an interest in the girl’s life and upbringing,” shot Clarisse. “You keep telling me that she may one day be my daughter.” “Newsflash Clarisse!” Cliff retorted. “You don’t give a kid a heartless, loveless, and emotionless letter from their mother.” “I felt that nothing should be kept from her,” Clarisse bumbled. “I didn’t agree with your choice not to show it to her.” “Then stay the fuck out of Cecily’s upbringing!” Cliff snapped. “I can handle her by myself! I have for the past six years anyway!” “Fine!” yelled Clarisse. “I’d rather have nothing to do with the kid anyway! She’s not my daughter to deal with!” “Hot damn,” muttered James as he chugged his beer. “Cliff and Supermodel Chick are really going at it. I’m sorry Cecily. It must be rough.” “He can fight with Clarisse all that he wants to,” Cecily replied with a shrug. “I hope that he gets rid of her.” “How could you hate someone so fucking beautiful?” asked James. “Easy,” said Cecily. “I’m so fucking bored,” Scott sighed. “Hey I know! I noticed that you guys have an old record player in the basement. Doesn’t Cliff have some old LP’s kicking around?” “As a matter of fact he does,” replied James perking up over the idea. “He keeps them in one of the drawers in his dresser.” He turned to Cecily. “You want to listen to some records with us, and have some beer?” Cecily shook her head. “No thank you,” she replied. “I have a postcard to write for Miss Emily. I also have to look at some bridal magazines. She wants me to do her flowers.” “It’s just as well,” said Scott. Since Cecily wouldn’t be around, that meant that they could smoke weed and get as trashed as their little heart’s desired while listening to records. Scott and James made their way to the Apache Room where Cliff slept. The room was rather messy. Neither Cliff nor Clarisse were world’s tidiest people. “He has all kinds of cool vintage shit,” said James as he began to throw open various dresser drawers. “He has a basement recording of Sabbath doing War Pigs.” Like heroine junkies raiding through trash dumpsters in New York City looking for spare needles, they began to raid through the drawers of Cliff’s dresser. Finally, in the second to top drawer they hit the vintage LP jackpot. “Hey looky here!” squealed James. “It’s Skynyrd’s first album!” As James yanked the record out of the drawer, a black velvet ring box went springing out into the air, landing on the colorful Native American throw rug. “Holy shit!” James gasped. “What was that?” Scott reached over and grabbed the ring box. “It’s a ring box you idiot,” he retorted. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I bet it’s for Clarisse.” “No fucking way,” James breathed. “I thought that I’d never live to see the day that Burton would actually get married. He had been banging that British chick for six years and never married her. I wonder how big a rock it is.” “There’s only one way to find out,” Scott said a glimmer in his eye. He opened the ring box right up. Even though the light that was coming in through the window was rather gray from the rain, the ring still sparkled radiantly from its satin perch inside of the box. “Jesus!” muttered James. “I felt bad when Burton left the band, but I guess he isn’t hurting for money if he can afford a ring like that. It has like three diamonds in it. I don’t know jack shit about rings, but I do know that it looks expensive.” “I bet it cost as much as a new car,” said Scott. “A new luxury car. That chick really has him whipped. Cliff hardly spends money on anything. He hasn’t bought new clothes since when? The sixties? The only things that Cliff spends money on are Cecily, fine pot, cigarettes, and his Native American shit.” “Kirk probably put him up to it,” replied James. “Cliff never would have picked out a ring this nice. If I ever get married, I’m having Kirk pick out my engagement ring too. I just hope that it won’t be this expensive.” “Why James Alan Hetfield!” Scott Ian gasped, as he sat back on his heels. “Does that mean that you’re thinking about proposing to the lovely Francesca?” “Humph,” James snorted. “Not in this lifetime.” Scott took ring out of the box. “Jeepers,” he gasped. The diamonds were so big that even in Scott Ian’s hand it felt kind of heavy. “I want to hold it! I want to hold it!” James whined. “Oh Clarisse,” Scott moaned in a fake Cliff Burton voice. “I want to caress your silicone stuffed boobies until the end of creation. Please do a lowly, hippie, stoned, bassist such as myself the honor of becoming my bride.” “Oh yes Clifford!” James shrieked in a fake woman’s voice. “You’re a rock star producer with tons of money. You can pay for me to get my tits waxed everyday!” Scott slid the ring onto James’s pinky finger, since that was the only one of James’s massive fingers that it stood a chance of fitting on. James held it up to the light where it sparkled upon his hand. “My hand looks pretty snazzy,” he observed. He let out a whistle. “It goes great with the tattoos.” “You better take it off James,” said Scott. “You’re getting it all dirty. Cliff will have a fit if he knows that we’ve been fucking with it. He’s been pretty pissy lately as it is.” “You got that damn right,” James muttered. He went to pull the ring off, but there was just one problem, and unfortunately it was a rather big one: the ring wouldn’t come off. “Fuck,” he grunted as he pulled and pulled, but the ring wouldn’t even budge. It was tightly imbedded into the skin, almost digging into it. James had big, cumbersome, knuckles. Guitarist knuckles. There was no way in hell that ring was going to slip over those knuckles with ease. “Oh man,” he wailed. “What am I going to do?” “I guess you get to wear the pretty new ring forever,” said Scott. “Don’t worry James. Wearing big gaudy rings is very metal.” “Not big, gaudy, diamond rings!” James squawked. “I can’t fucking wear this! This is Clarisse’s ring. Cliff will kill me! Or even worse, he’ll dispose all of Metallica’s evil, nasty, dirty, secrets to the people at MTV. “Maybe we could cut it off?” suggested Scott. “With what?” James snarled at him. “A butter knife? Scissors?” “I bet Cecily would have a pair of scissors in with her art supplies,” said Scott. “Or perhaps Fran has some in her sewing basket.” “Fuck off Wurbles!” sneered James. “This is most definitely a five figure ring. We can’t cut it off.” “Maybe washing your hands with some lotion or shit would help,” Scott tried again. “That’s an idea,” agreed James. “You have any?” “No,” said Scott. “After all, I’m not a homo.” “Fuck you!” James sighed as he looked hopelessly at the ring that was wedged onto his finger. “This is also a time that the Hamster would have been useful. He travels with at least two suitcases filled with all kinds of lotions and potions and shit.” “Teeny bopper chicks like that kind of shit,” said Scott thoughtfully. “Maybe Cecily has some.” “She fucking hates Clarisse,” laughed James. “She’d be just as happy to see the ring stuck on my finger forever.” “Because then she’d get two daddies,” Scott whooped. “Maybe it’s a sign James. You’re supposed to marry Cliff. You two would have such lovely babies. I bet they would look like Fraggles.” “I’d marry a pot bellied pig before I’d marry Burton,” James replied as he stood up. “Let’s see if Cliff’s brat can help us.” They made their way down to Cecily’s room. Cliff and Clarisse were still shut up in one of the other bedrooms screaming at each other. “At the rate that those two are going,” whispered James. “They ain’t going to be needing this ring.” “Still, I think that Cliff would like to take it back and get his refund then,” said Scott. “He might have to take you back with it.” “Very funny,” James muttered under his breath as he knocked on Cecily’s door. “Hey Cess!” he bellowed. “Open up! It’s your Uncle James.” Without waiting for Cecily to answer, he barged into her room. Cecily was seated at her desk with a big stack of bride magazines, though at that particular moment she wasn’t working on Emily’s flowers. She was writing a postcard to Jackson. King Diamond’s Them played in the background. At the entrance of James, she immediately covered up Jackson’s postcard with one of the bridal magazines. She turned completely red. “What?” James demanded. “You whacking off in here or something?” “Oh really James!” Scott Ian declared. “Chicks don’t whack off.” “They most certainly can!” James squawked. “Actually they gush. A chick that gushes is a rare delicacy. It’s like seeing a cardinal on an early spring morning.” “It is?” Cecily cut in. James nodded, and cleared his throat. “You have any lotion Cecily?” he asked. “Like what kind of lotion?” Cecily asked. “Any kind really,” said James. “Nothing too smelly.” “I’m sorry,” Cecily replied. “I only have violet scented lotion.” She went over to her dresser and picked up a frilly purple bottle. “Miss Emily sent it to me. It came from all the way from England.” “Ooh it’s from England!” Scott shrieked. “That certainly will do the trick.” “What trick?” asked Cecily. Just then, she noticed the glimmering rock on James’s finger. Her mouth dropped open. “Mr. James!” she gasped. “That’s Clarisse’s ring!” “Keep your voice down!” James commanded at her. “I know very well that it’s Clarisse’s ring. It’s certainly not my ring! I have to get it off. It’s stuck.” “How’d it get on in the first place?” Cecily asked. “As much as I’d rather have you for a mother Mr. James, I don’t think that my Dad would ever propose to you.” Scott sighed. “We were just fucking around,” he explained. “Now it’s stuck on James’s finger. We thought that the lotion might get it to slip off.” “It’s worth a try,” said Cecily. The trio made their way to the bathroom where Cecily put the drain down, and filled the bathroom sink up with warm, soapy, water. “You should soak your hand first,” she instructed. “That’s a good idea,” said Scott. “That might even soften the skin enough to get the ring off without using the lotion.” “Absolutely not!” James retorted, cradling his hand. “Soaking my hand in warm water like that will destroy my hard earned guitar calluses.” “Are you fucking kidding me James?” Scott snorted. “You barely ever practice. You have no calluses right now.” “I do too!” James argued. “Guys!” shouted Cecily. “We have to hurry. Quick, before my Daddy comes. If we can’t get that ring off, then we might have to amputate Mr. James’s finger. Then his guitar playing days would definitely be over.” “He’d be just like Tony Iommi,” laughed Scott. “You dildo face!” James yelped. “Tony Iommi doesn’t have amputated fingers. He only lost like the top part of his fingers.” He gave a heavy sigh as he reluctantly thrust his hands into the warm, soapy, water. “How long do I have to stay like this?” he quipped. “About fifteen minutes,” answered Cecily. “God damn it,” James muttered. “Hey Cess,” he went on. “Do me a favor.” He pointed to the linen cabinet. “Go in there, and on the bottom shelf look under the laundry hamper.” Cecily did as he was told. She found the latest few issues of Penthouse. “So that’s where you hide your collection of pornos Mr. James!” she squealed as she began to flip through the magazine in wonderment and awe. “Shhhhh! You don’t need to announce it to the entire house,” James chastised her. “And don’t you be looking through it. Those magazines aren’t for kids.” Scott grabbed the magazine from Cecily and propped it up in front of James. It definitely made the time fly by, and in no time, they were ready to see if perhaps the warm, soapy, water had helped. James lifted his hand up out of the water. It was covered with soap suds. “Did it work?” Scott Ian asked as he pulled the drain stopper out of the sink. Cecily’s idea had indeed worked well. It had worked too well, for the ring slid right off of James’s finger. It landed with a horrifying plop right into the soapy water that was now rushing down the drain. “No fuck!” Scott squealed as he thrust his hand into the draining water trying to fish the ring out from the soap suds, but he was too late. The ring slowly, to James, Scott, and Cecily’s horror, sickeningly trickled its way down the drain, and out of sight… |
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| Battery | January 7, 2008, 6:13 am Post #142 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Thank you so much ..............Yeah! “Miss Francesca is so wonderful,” Cecily sighed." I agree with Cecily, Fran rocks!! And the scene beetwen Cecily and Jackson was unbelievably sweet :horns2 Now Cecily has a boyfriend, how cool is that? Too bad Jackson had to leave, but maybe they'll go to the dance together, wow!!! And the last chapter... I'm not surprised it's one of your favourite chapters, it totally rocked!!! “Maybe it’s a sign James. You’re supposed to marry Cliff. You two would have such lovely babies. I bet they would look like Fraggles.” oh shit but hey, Fraggles are KIND OF cute I loved scene of Scott and James imitating Cliff and Clarisse And all the lotion and Kirk conversation and the last scene....... Hahahaha, I wonder what they'll do now ?!Aaand Cliff and Clarisse arguing surely is a pleasant image A W E S O M E chapters |
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| Shayi | January 7, 2008, 6:31 am Post #143 |
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Bring me that horizon
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Ack! And oooh bloody 'ell. That's a bit of a turn up for the books isn't it? But I couldn't help laughing. Now that I've caught up again! Damn there have been so many bits that have made me laugh in this it's just not true. This is why you are such an incredible writer. I was in an absolutely SHITTY mood before I read this, now I'm smiling again, and I've been laughing through it! The haunted house was beautifully creepy I enjoyed that part. And Cliff and his obsession that Jackson had designs on Cess's virginity - good lord that man needs to take a chill pill - although smoking pot doesn't seem to work so I don't know what would! I'm glad that Mr Ian was able to talk to Jackson and plan with him - and when he said about Transformers and Hitchhikers Guide buddies needing to stick together - winning moment! I can't believe Jackson got sent home - but Francesca is 'a devilish deep 'un' as they say, and she really does have the right idea. She is absolutely excellent, and I think that if they ever got to meet, she and Emily would get on really well. I love the fact that we're getting to know her character better (even down to sexual preference such as having the light off!). It's good to see that Cliff and Clarisse are fighting (also good that Cliff had that heart to heart with Scott Ian - who until the incident with the ring was becoming almost Kirk-Guru-esque). That part was excellently done and really gave a great insight into Cliff's character and how his mind is working at the moment. I am hugely looking forward to the fallout from the ring problems here - should be fun!! Insanely great writing as always - you truly are talented. |
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| Lucifer's Angel | January 7, 2008, 9:59 am Post #144 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Haha, the ring fell down the drain :horns2 Hmm, maybe this is a sign James and Scott imitating Cliff and Clarisse was class, and poor James getting the ring stuck on his finger Luckily I have small fingers, I got the opposite problem I hope Cliff finally comes to his senses
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| Verity | January 7, 2008, 2:07 pm Post #145 |
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The Story Girl
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Shayi- Originally Scott Ian was going to be Kirk but then I decided to do something else with Kirk and I felt like writing a different character. Thank you for reading. Vanessa- I'm glad that like silly James and Scott Ian. I have small fingers too, and seldom can find rings that are not too big. Maggie- I agree, Fraggles are definitely kind of cute. I'm glad that you liked the bit with the ring. Chapter Forty-One James, Cecily, and Scott Ian all stared in absolute horror and disbelief at the drain as it gurgled and churgled the last bits of soapy water. They gazed at it, silently hoping that if they all stared at it for long enough that magically, by the miraculous grace of God, the ring would come dancing out. Of course, that wasn’t to happen. Finally Scott Ian broke the silence. “Uh oh,” he said. “Uh oh?” repeated James. “You lose a horrendously expensive ring and all that you can say is uh oh?” “I didn’t lose it!” Scott retorted. “You lost it.” “I did not!” James yelled. “It was stuck on your finger!” Scott pointed out. “You’re the dumbass who put it there,” returned James. “Stop fighting!” cut in Cecily. “Please you two! Between my Dad and Clarisse, and my Dad and I, and my Dad and Jackson, I’ve had enough fighting.” “The little lady is right,” sighed James as he stared longingly at the drain. “Whatever we do, whatever happens, we cannot tell Burton about this. He just can’t find out.” “Well that’s going to be kind of difficult,” bumbled Scott. “I mean, I know that we all think that Cliff isn’t a marrying man, but I know Cliff. Cliff doesn’t waste money. He wouldn’t have spent that much cash on a ring without knowing damn well that he was going to take the plunge, and propose to Clarisse. One of these days he’s going to want to pop the question, and he’s going to be wondering where his whopping expensive ring went.” James muttered something that sounded along the lines of “fuck.” He had no idea what to do. “We could call a plumber?” Scott suggested. “Maybe they could cut it out of the drain pipes.” “And just how do you presume that we sneak the plumber in here?” shot James. “Cliff’s going to wonder why the fuck some plumber dude is whacking away at the pipes in his house.” “We could do it when he’s off on the Gastropod mini tour,” said Scott. James shook his golden curls. “Clarisse would wonder what’s going on,” he said. “I don’t think that Cliff would want her to find out about the engagement ring that way.” “It’s a sign,” Cecily whispered dramatically. “My Dad shouldn’t marry Clarisse. It’s a sign!” “Oh Cecily,” James muttered. “You don’t really believe in that voodoo hullabaloo bullshit do you?” “This never happened to any of the rings that he wanted to give to Miss Emily,” said Cecily. “That’s because James wasn’t around,” Scott quipped sullenly. “We can’t keep this a secret from Cliff forever. He’s probably still making payments on this ring.” “I’ve got it!” said James importantly as he tossed his hair. “I’ll just buy a new one. There’s a fuck load of money in Metallica’s trust account, and I’m going back out to do a couple of concerts in a few days. I can easily hit the bank, get the money, and buy a new ring that looks just like it.” “Are you sure James?” Scott asked. “That ring had to have cost a small fortune. I sure as hell couldn’t spend that kind of money out of Anthrax’s trust account.” “That’s because Anthrax isn’t the biggest fucking and in the world right now,” retorted James, superiorly. “Daddy said that he was going to propose to her as soon as he returns from the mini tour,” Cecily reminded him. “He leaves in two days, and he’ll only be gone for about three days, so that gives you five days to replace it.” “Trust me,” said James. “Cliff will never know the difference.” *** “I really do think that it would be for the best if you leave Cecily’s upbringing solely up to me,” said Cliff as he lit a joint. “Fine,” Clarisse retorted. “But don’t ask me to buy her any presents, or take her out shopping.” Cliff and Clarisse were still going at it. Finally, after three solid hours of arguing, it was decided that Clarisse would have absolutely no say in the raising of Cecily. “It’s not ideal, because I was hoping that Cecily could have a somewhat motherly influence in her life, but at least I know that you won’t be breaking her heart again giving her letters from that scumbag Claudia,” said Cliff. “Even if you felt that she should know about the letter, you must have known that it was going to hurt her. How could you hurt my daughter that way Clarisse?” “Cecily hasn’t been very nice to me Clifford,” Clarisse whined. “Her and that dreadful boy Jason or whatever his name is put bugs in my food and sand in my bathing suit.” “I heard all about that,” said Cliff. “And no, I didn’t approve of her doing that. That’s another reason that I sent Jackson home.” “You should have sent Cecily home too,” muttered Clarisse. “Clifford darling, we need time alone together. Our relationship is so strained right now, and you’re leaving town. I’d really wish that we could have some time together, just you and me to work on our relationship.” “I’m sorry Clarisse,” replied Cliff. “But I’m positive that you wouldn’t want to accompany me on Gastropod’s mini tour. If you thought that the car ride to White Rock with Geezer was gnarly, you’d die on Gastropod’s tour bus. But,” he went on. “Cess is going to be going off to England soon. We can have our time alone then.” “I have to wait that long?” Clarisse whined. “Well what do you want me to do?” Cliff asked. “Do you really need to go out on this stupid mini tour?” Clarisse asked. “Yes Clarisse,” replied Cliff. “Gastropod pays for a lot of wonderful things. I’m like a second father to those boys, and they need me. Brian Slagel never abandoned Metallica, and I’m not going to abandon my boys either.” “Your boys, Cecily, they all come before me!” Clarisse quipped. “It’s really not fair.” “We’ll have plenty of time together Clarisse,” Cliff reassured her. “After this mini tour, I won’t have to travel for a while. I’m thinking about going back to school actually. I’ve always regretted not getting my degree in music. I’m going to do it this fall.” “Oh Clifford,” Clarisse bantered. “Going back to school is such a waste of money. You already have a successful career in music. What on earth do you need school for?” “For my own sense of well being,” Cliff replied. “It would make me happy.” “Argh!” Clarisse shrieked, throwing her hands in the air. “You are the most irritating person in the world!” She couldn’t believe that Cliff would piss away valuable time rotting away in school. Being with Cliff Burton the respected producer and bassist was a hell of a lot more prestigious than being with Cliff Burton the scholarly student. “Please try and understand Baby,” Cliff pressed. “Going to school and getting that degree would really make me feel more like a complete musician, and my music is important to me. Once I have the degree, no one can ever take it away from me.” “They’re all going to laugh at you,” snarled Clarisse. “You’ll be the oldest bass student there.” “Probably,” Cliff said with a shrug. “Being the oldest probably means that I’ll be the best though. I can play circles around all of those young kids, and I have the experience. Experience is everything. I want you to support me Clarisse. If you’re not going to support Cecily, can’t you at least support my wishes to go to school?” Clarisse didn’t say anything. She felt numb. She wished that she could see Doctor Ken right now. He’d make everything better. Cliff going back to school was an outrageous idea. Who did he think that he was fooling? He’d have to do shit like homework and research papers again. Clarisse could just see it now. He’d be juggling his classes with practicing bass and producing, while still kowtowing to Cecily’s every need. His evenings would be filled with doing homework. He’d never have any time for her. She started to cry plump, salty, tears trickling from her eyes. “Oh don’t cry Doll Face,” Cliff pleaded. “I can’t fucking stand it when chicks cry.” “I can’t help it Clifford!” Clarisse blubbered. “You’ll be in school around all of those pretty young college girls and you’ll leave me.” “Don’t be asinine Clarisse!” Cliff exclaimed. “I would never leave you. And you don’t need to worry about those college girls. They aren’t going to want an old thing like me with a kid.” Not even Clarisse was sure if she still wanted Cliff anymore. Was all of his bullshit with him being stoned half of the time, sucking Gastropod’s dick, his bratty daughter, and his desire to rot away in school, worth the rock star parties, fabulous sex, and financial security that life with him provided? Cliff watched as Clarisse sniffled, dabbing her eyes carefully with her handkerchief so that she wouldn’t smudge her carefully applied eyeliner. He thought about what he had just said. He was older now, and he had gotten more into producing and management. No one ever wanted to sleep with the manager, plus he had a kid too. He would be hard pressed to ever score again with a chick as young and fine as Clarisse was, and Emily had already bagged herself someone else. He really should be a bit more accepting of her wishes. Since she had came to live with him, all that he had done was harp at her to respect Cecily more, maybe he should listen to her, and do something that she wanted. “Oh alright,” he sighed heavy heartedly. “I won’t go to school this coming fall.” *** Even though Cliff had given her his word that he would not be sitting his ass in school come September, Clarisse still couldn’t help but feel a bit morose. Until the day that he died, he would always hold that damned Claudia letter against her, and now she had no say whatsoever in how he chose to rear Cecily. This meant that convincing him to ship her off to a nice boarding school would be out of the question. She’d be stuck with the brat until she eventually went off to college herself, if she was even smart enough to get in to one. Plus, she was feeling down over the fact that she would have to wait until Cecily left for England to have some time alone with him, and she was beginning to feel nervous over her liposuction. She still hadn’t asked Cecily, Francesca, or Scott Ian to help her with her recovery. She wasn’t sure what to tell them. If Cliff ever found out that she had gotten liposuction she would die of embarrassment, and he’d more than likely think that it was a horrid extravagance since the lair of fat that Clarisse had in her stomach was so miniscule that ninety-five percent of the world’s population would never even notice it. Clarisse finally came out of the room that they had been fighting in. Francesca was parked out in the living room, her nose buried in some god awful book about a dragon, and a Spaniard, and a lovechild. “Oh woe is me!” Clarisse cried in over dramatic fashion. “It’s just so not fair.” “What happened?” asked Francesca without looking up from her book. “Snap the elastic on your panty hose?” “No,” Clarisse snapped. Fran could be such a dolt sometimes. She sighed as she frowned at the small chip that was in her near perfectly manicured nails. “Clifford is being just awful today,” she sighed. “That’s nothing new,” said Fran. Clarisse burst into tears, whining in a high pitched squeal as she rambled. “No matter what I do, I’m always going to come second to Cecily.” “Cecily is his daughter,” Francesca replied. “She’s important to him.” “I just don’t know why he’d prefer an ill mannered little girl over a beautiful supermodel like me,” Clarisse moaned. “Maybe Clifford doesn’t think that I look beautiful anymore.” “Oh please Clarisse!” gasped Francesca. “The man can hardly look at you without his dick inflating out five inches. I’m sure that Cliff finds you plenty attractive. After all, James told me that he even screwed a homeless chick once. Surely, you must look better than she did.” Francesca had been just trying to help and be funny, but her comment only made Clarisse cry louder. Francesca wasn’t particularly very fond of Clarisse. She found her to be very superficial and vain, as well as self absorbed, but she did feel sorry for her. She couldn’t imagine if James had had a kid that she had to try and get close to. Things were more difficult when there were children involved. She looked so young, almost childish, and pathetic blubbering into her frilly handkerchief. “I’ll tell you what,” said Fran as she closed her trashy novel. “I heard that there’s shoe sale going on at one of the stores over in Harbor View. How about we spend the rest of this rainy afternoon shopping? Shopping always lifts my spirits whenever I’m down.” Clarisse sneered up her bottom lip. She adored shopping. It was her favorite pastime, and it was something that she was very good at, but it was shopping with Fran. Fran was a bore, and she never seemed to wear anything that Clarisse would even consider putting on her own self. “I don’t know,” she replied sullenly. “Oh come on Clarisse,” Francesca pressed. “Just think about all of those cute little summer sandals on sale. I bet they’ll have handbags too. I could use a new purse.” She had mentioned handbags. It was surely tempting. Clarisse was in the perfect mood to shop. She was feeling vulnerable, and she was pissy with Cliff. What better way to get back at him then to just go out and spend his money on stuff for herself! “Maybe we could even have lunch?” suggested Fran as she got up from the couch to find her purse and car keys. “I don’t eat lunch,” snarled Clarisse. “Lunch makes people fat.” Francesca sighed. She hoped that she wouldn’t regret asking Clarisse to go shopping. “Are you coming or not?” she demanded. Clarisse sighed, as if Francesca had just asked her to attend an execution, rather than a shoe sale. “I guess I can be bothered to go with you,” she heaved coldly as she slowly got up from her chair. “I think that we’ll have fun,” said Francesca cheerfully. Clarisse didn’t know if “fun” was the right word. She’d much rather go shopping by herself, than with James’s boring and sucky girlfriend. She wouldn’t be around much longer anyway. James would soon tire of her. But, Doctor Ken had said that Clarisse was going to need help with her liposuction recovery next week, and Francesca was definitely going to be one of the few people around to help her. Perhaps she should try and act civil to her for one day. Thinking of Doctor Ken reminded Clarisse of another wonderful thing: she had to two rich boyfriends. Two rich boyfriends that had both put her name on their credit cards… |
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| Lucifer's Angel | January 7, 2008, 7:27 pm Post #146 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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The more I read about Clarisse, the more I hate her Cliff deserves so much better than her, she is stupid, selfish, and so vain Maybe them losing the ring is a sign, maybe the gods are trying to tell him something Fran is just trying to be nice, I like the fact that she reads romance novels, I read a lot of them too
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| Shayi | January 8, 2008, 4:51 am Post #147 |
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Bring me that horizon
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Good lord. That Clarisse gets worse and worse by the day. I cannot believe that she doesn't want Cliff to go to school. And certainly he has to put his daughter first, and can't just ditch the band that he's dealing with. If she wanted a dude with no ties, thats what she should have gone after - not Cliff. As for the way that she thinks about Francesca - well, you have made her into the perfect manipulative bitch-whore from hell really. I'm so impressed by the way that you've developed Clarisse's character. Even though I do rather hate her with a passion - I hugely appreciate the way that you write her, and the way that you can render her entirely odious without making her a characature of herself. They gazed at it, silently hoping that if they all stared at it for long enough that magically, by the miraculous grace of God, the ring would come dancing out. ^^ That I have to say was a wonderful, wonderful line. I managed to smash part of an ornament at the weekend while taking down the Christmas tree (knocked the damn thing off the windowsill) and I had exactly that feeling as I looked at the smushed bit of dragon. So yeah - absolutely fabulous, and it certainly made me laugh! So all in all - a most excellent, excellent episode, I'm looking forward to the next one
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| Battery | January 8, 2008, 7:03 am Post #148 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Why Cliff can't see lousy Clarisse is limiting him That's not how a girlfriend and future wife should act. But it's great thing he put her away from Cecily's upbringing :horns2 And how could she think Fran is 'boring and sucky'... Clarisse is totally disgusting And James is really a good friend to buy Cliff new ring (or he's so scared of Cliff ), too bad it's the ring for Clarisse... and I loved Scott's reaction: 'Uh oh' Awesome chapter! :horns2
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| Simone | January 8, 2008, 10:53 am Post #149 |
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Mistress of Puppets
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these last chapters blew me into total fiction! I still have the feeling that that really happen you're fics are amazing!!! you're an amazing player and a great writer :horns2 Cheers for Verity!! PS: When will Clarisse die??? and my siggie inspired you? wow...I feel happy
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| Verity | January 8, 2008, 11:24 am Post #150 |
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The Story Girl
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Vanessa- Clarisse is bad news. I'm writing chapter 46 right now she she's just a drain on society. But for some reason, she is a lot of fun to write. Shayi- Thank you so much for your comment. I know Clarisse is way over the top as most of my characters are but she's fun to write because she's so rotten. And I'm a bit selfish myself. Not nearly as bad as Clarisse, but in a fucked up way I understand her. Maggie- You're right, Clarisse is rather limiting. Hopefully sometime in this Cliff will open his eyes and get rid of her, but we should see. I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do yet, so it's a mystery for everyone. Simone- You're too kind. And I do like your siggy. It's nice to see King's face every morning. This chapter is a little dull, but it's meaningful with the plot, I promise. Chapter Forty-Two Francesca knew that taking Clarisse shopping wasn’t going to be a picnic, but it was far worse than she could ever have imagined. Never in her life had Francesca ever had to deal with such a difficult person. Not even her cranky and crotchety, ninety-five-year-old great, great, Aunt Clara was as fussy. Anything that Fran did was either done wrong, or not good enough in Clarisse’s opinion. It started when she was trying to park the car. “Must you park so far away from the shops Francesca?” Clarisse whined. “You have us parked a million miles away.” “There aren’t any parking spaces left closer,” replied Francesca. “But it’s raining,” Clarisse argued. “I can’t walk out in the rain. My hair will go flat.” “That’s what they make umbrellas for,” Francesca replied through clenched teeth. “We’re parking here and that’s final.” “Surely there’s a parking space closer,” Clarisse protested. “I can’t walk very far in these shoes.” “Then why’d you wear them?” Francesca demanded. “They go with my outfit of course,” Clarisse replied. “Aren’t they adorable?” “They are,” Francesca admitted. “But why on earth would you wear them shopping? You knew that we’d be doing a lot of walking.” “You will be,” responded Clarisse. “But not me. I honestly can’t get these shoes wet Francesca. They’re silk. Now please drop me off at the door. That’s what Clifford always does for me whenever we go somewhere and it’ raining, or if he has to park far away.” “In case you haven’t noticed,” quipped an irritated Fran. “I’m not Clifford.” “Humph,” Clarisse gave a satisfied snort. “You both are butt ugly.” Clarisse VanSicklen only got worse as the day went on. Francesca had always prided herself as being somewhat good with clothes, after all she was now working in wardrobe for the biggest heavy metal band in the entire world, but in Clarisse’s opinion that didn’t mean squat. Francesca picked out a cheerful striped blouse to take back into the dressing room and try on. “You aren’t honestly going to try that on are you?” Clarisse asked her. “I was planning on it,” Francesca replied. Clarisse shook her head and took the blouse out of Francesca’s hands. “You really shouldn’t,” she said haughtily. “Why ever not?” Francesca demanded. “I like it, and I want to try it on.” “Fran,” Clarisse sighed. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that a girl like you shouldn’t wear horizontal stripes?” “Excuse me?” Francesca shot. “But I’m not the one with silicone breast implants that are so inflated that I can hardly even keep my blouse buttoned.” “At least I can make money with my body,” snapped Clarisse as she flounced off into a dressing room. Another fucking bloody annoying thing about Clarisse was that since she was a model, everything that she tried on seemed to fit her perfectly. Every garment that she tried on always hung perfectly on her frame. She had that tall, willowy, (except for her glorious Dr. Ken implanted boobs) model figure, the kind of figure that most designer clothes were cut just specially for. It was annoying as all fuck because everything that Clarisse put on looked absolutely adorable on her. It didn’t take long for Clarisse to accumulate quite the plethora of shopping bags and parcels. Francesca picked up four packages of men’s underwear, and carried them over to the cashier. “Is that men’s underwear that you’re buying?” Clarisse shrieked. “Why yes,” replied Francesca. “It is.” “You’re not buying it for yourself are you?” Clarisse asked. Francesca rolled her eyes at her. Was there not a brain under all of that bleached blonde hair? “Of course not!” she retorted. “It’s for James. That man is now making millions upon millions of dollars, yet he doesn’t own one decent pair of underwear without holes in it. He’s got so many holes in them I bet that he doesn’t even need to pull them down in order to pee.” “Oh honestly Francesca!” Clarisse gasped, very much revolted. “Can’t James buy his own underwear?” “Apparently not,” Francesca replied. “He goes about with underwear that looks as bad as a ragpicker’s child’s. I don’t think that buying new underwear is real high on his priority list, so I’ll just buy it for him. I take pride in how my James looks.” “Suit your self,” Clarisse sighed as Francesca dumped the packs of underwear onto the counter. “But really, you’re only making a fool of yourself,” she continued. “By making sure that my boyfriend doesn’t go about with underwear that resembles Swiss cheese?” retorted Francesca. “If I were you I wouldn’t go about buying that man a bunch of stuff,” said Clarisse. “He’s going to get tired of you, and he’ll dump you. He’ll probably dump you by the end of his tour for sure.” “How can you say that?” Francesca cried. “You barely even know James. You have no idea what kind of a relationship we have. At least we don’t spend our entire mornings arguing.” “In order for me to be able to stay with Clifford, he’s going to have to make some sizable changes in the way that he conducts himself,” Clarisse replied. “I’m working on those changes, but sometimes it does lead to some arguing. He’ll have to change by the time that we get married for sure.” “A leopard can’t change his spots Clarisse,” snapped Francesca. “Cliff isn’t someone who can be changed. Bob Rock tried to change him, and he left.” “Bob Rock can’t please him the way I can,” responded Clarisse. “Bob Rock can’t make Cliff feel young and handsome, even though he’s not.” “For someone who wants to marry him, you sure don’t speak very highly of him,” said Francesca as she took her bag of underwear and followed Clarisse out of the store. “He’s way older than me,” Clarisse replied with a shrug. “He’s not as appealing as a guy who is closer to my age would be, yet he still hasn’t grown up. His taste in clothes, music, and television is atrocious. A fifth grader has better taste.” “Then what do you like about him?” Francesca asked. In order to get out of the rain, Francesca ducked inside the ice cream parlor. Clarisse followed her. “He’s experienced,” Clarisse answered. “I like that he’s experienced.” “You mean well off?” Francesca shot as she squinted up at the blackboard of ice cream flavors. “I know a man who’s every bit as well off as Cliff is,” Clarisse retorted. “It’s just that Cliff is the available one.” Francesca turned and faced her. “Clarisse what are you talking about?” Clarisse’s eyes were shining, and she was starting to get as giddy as a schoolgirl. “You have to promise not to breathe a word of any of this to anyone,” she said vivaciously. “You can’t tell anybody, not even James. This is woman to woman confidential information.” “Fine,” Francesca sighed as she ordered a banana split. “I have another boyfriend,” Clarisse whispered, her eyes dancing as if this were something to be proud of. “He’s a cosmetic surgeon in San Francisco. He’s even older than Clifford is, but he has his own practice, drives a Porsche, and has three houses. Clifford only has two, and one of them he owns with James.” “Clarisse,” Francesca gasped. “That’s really not fair. It’s not fair to Cliff, and it’s not fair to the surgeon.” “Oh Doctor Ken knows all about Cliff,” Clarisse replied. “He’s totally fine with it.” “And does Cliff know about this Porsche driving doctor?” Fran asked. She picked up her banana split and carried it over to a table. Clarisse watched longingly as Francesca started to eat. Clarisse shook her head. “No,” she replied. “And he will never know. You see, Doctor Ken and I are star crossed lovers. We were totally destined to be together but tragically, our dreams have been thwarted.” Francesca sucked on her spoon. “Why don’t you quit wasting Cliff’s time, dump him, and go live happily ever after with Doctor Ken?” she asked. “Because,” Clarisse sighed wistfully. “He’s married. He’s married to a vain, stuck up, bitch who never has any time for him.” “Sounds familiar,” Fran mumbled. “It’s a loveless marriage,” Clarisse went on. “They even sleep in separate bedrooms. They haven’t slept together in four years. Can you believe that?” “Maybe he kicks in his sleep,” said Fran. Clarisse glared at her, and then went on. “He calls me his Angel. I’m his Clarisse Angel, because I give him the only bit of love from a woman that he’s known.” “Why doesn’t he just divorce his wife?” Fran asked. “He’s come close,” answered Clarisse. “But you see, Doctor Ken is such a dear. He’s such an unselfish, gentle, heart. He has two school age kids and he can’t bare the thought of only seeing them on the weekends, or on certain holidays. He’s trapped in a loveless marriage because of the kids. When they go off to college, he’ll hopefully get his divorce. Until then, the only happiness that he has is when he gets to see me.” “Yeah, but if you’re married to Cliff,” said Fran. “You won’t be able to be there for him when he eventually and finally does get his divorce.” Clarisse laughed. “Oh I’d leave Clifford in a heartbeat the second that Doctor Ken became free to marry me. I’d much rather be with him. Yeah, he has kids too, but at least his brats can go live with their mother the majority of the time. Cliff doesn’t have anyone that he can ship Cecily off too for long periods of time.” Francesca stared down into her half melted ice cream. It was so sad. She liked Cliff a lot, and she knew that James highly respected him as a friend, musician, and colleague. James and Cliff were like brothers. They bought a beach house together, and even had matching “best friend” tattoos. She knew that she should tell someone about Doctor Ken before Cliff also fell into a loveless marriage, but she had given Clarisse her word that she would keep quiet. Clarisse seemed to be reading Francesca’s mind as she intensely watched her eat her ice cream. Damn, it looked so fucking good. Sometimes, it sucked being a supermodel. “You can’t tell a soul,” Clarisse repeated. “This stays between you and me.” “Yes Clarisse,” Francesca replied. “Look, it might not be my place to say this, but I’m going to say it anyway. Your secret is safe with me, but I really do hope that you will think it over before you do something like marry Cliff. Your heart obviously belongs to Doctor Ken instead, and it’s not right marrying someone that your heart doesn’t belong to. If you don’t love Cliff with all your heart and soul, don’t marry him. Let him find someone else who can give him the kind of love that he deserves.” Clarisse watched in silence as Francesca finished her ice cream. Clarisse had never thought of it that way. She had always thought that even though she was planning on eventually leaving Cliff, that at least the time that he did spend with her was with a beautiful supermodel. Most men would be so envious. Didn’t that count for anything? However, Francesca seemed to have a talent for making Clarisse feel bad about her self. For the first time ever during her affair with Doctor Ken, Clarisse felt shady, and cold, dishonest, and shallow. Francesca licked a bit of ice cream off of her fingers. “Should we head home?” she asked. “Yes,” Clarisse nodded as she stood up. “And by the way Fran,” she continued. “Did you know that ice cream causes cystic acne?” |
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![]](http://z1.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)
:horns2
(but I couldn't help laughing at him
he's really obsessed
... Scott was so great in the last chapter
, maybe after this conversation Cliff will let Jackson stay at White Rock? I can't wait to see!!!




And Scott is right
Hah, naughty Cliff, ogling Jackson's mom's tits, boys will be boys
Hey, maybe he can get with Jackson' mom, then him and Cecily can be together. Hey, I can dream
Cliff deserves so much better than her, she is stupid, selfish, and so vain
these last chapters blew me into total fiction! I still have the feeling that that really happen 
8:42 PM Jul 10