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Daughter of the Year; Ze Sequel to Father of the Year
Topic Started: December 14, 2007, 12:15 am (11,152 Views)
Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
[ * ]
So the bitch actually is showing some heart? :blink: Hmm
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Chapter Forty-Three

The next day Cliff was sitting out on the front porch steps smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer, all while fucking around on the bass at the same time.

Scott Ian sat up on the porch swing. He knew that he too should be practicing, but it was such a beautiful day. The air was crisp and fresh, and the sun radiated a comfortable warmth upon them. It was one of those days where you were just in awe over the fact that you were alive, and got to witness something so grand. He sighed as he watched a butterfly subtly land on his shoulder for a brief second before fluttering off into the distance.

“Hey that riff sounds badass Cliff,” said Scott from his perch on the porch swing.

“Thank you,” Cliff mumbled, not looking up from practicing.

“Are you really going to waste such a riff on Gastropod?” Scott asked. “I mean, I’ve been on tour with them. They’re idiots.”

Cliff set down his bass and looked at him. “They’re idiots who happen to make me a lot of money, and they are rather accomplished musicians. They can play everything that I give them at lightning speed. Even Hildegarde likes them.”

“Hildegarde?” Scott repeated making a face. “Isn’t that your cleaning lady? Isn’t she like ninety years old?”

Cliff nodded. “Just between you and me,” he said in a gossipy tone. “She’s sweet on Tickler, the lead vocalist.”

“Wow,” Scott replied. “No shit. How come she likes him and not me?”

“Because she has good taste,” replied Cliff. “Anyway, whenever Gastropod comes over to my house she always makes his favorites.”

Just then, a simpering James exploded onto the front porch. His face was scarlet, bursting with anger and rage.

“Hey James,” greeted Scott. “You look pissier than a cat with a knot in its tail.”


“Oh I’m pissy all right,” James shot. “Cliff!” he yelled. “Do something with that evil woman of yours!”

Cliff sighed. “What’d Clarisse do this time?” he asked.

“That little fucking bitch took the tin of peanut butter cookies that Fran made for me and locked them away in the cupboard,” ranted James. “That minx had no business touching my shit!”

“What’d she do that for?” Scott wondered aloud.

“Because she’s an insane fucking bitch,” James retorted. “Do something Cliff!”

“What do you want me to do?” Cliff asked.

“Talk some sense into her if it’s at all possible,” said James. “She’s your girlfriend! I am not going to have some floozy hussy who isn’t even your wife tell me that I cannot eat fucking cookies in my own fucking home!”

“Well then,” said Cliff as he got up and put out his cigarette. “Tell Fran that I can smoke inside of my own home.”

“But smoking is bad for you Cliff,” James retorted. “Cookies aren’t.”

“I thought that you gave up that stupid habit anyway?” said Scott. “When did you start back up again?”

“He started up after that British chick left him,” James answered for Cliff. “He always would start back up whenever they had a fight, and she’d move out.”

“That’s because she wouldn’t be around to fucking bitch at me,” Cliff snarled sullenly.

“It’s a pity,” Scott sighed. “They always say that being with your destined, true love, makes one quit smoking.”

Cliff glared at Scott Ian sourly. “You’ve either been smoking weed, or hanging around too much with Cecily,” he retorted.

He sighed, and made his way inside to go find Clarisse. She was happily situated in her bedroom, deciding which outfit she was going to wear on her next rendezvous with Doctor Ken.

“Hey Doll Face,” Cliff greeted as he entered the room.

“What do you want Clifford?” she asked without looking up.

“James tells me that you locked the cookies Francesca made for him up in the cupboard. Could you give them back?” Cliff asked.

“Absolutely not,” Clarisse replied tersely as she hung a dress up on its hanger.

“Why not?” pressed Cliff. “What’s it to you if he eats cookies?”

“James Hetfield is overweight, and a glutton,” Clarisse answered primly. “He needs to be put on a sensible diet if he wants to look presentable for the rest of his tour.”

“James is not overweight!” Cliff argued. “He looks fine. His bed is always overflowing with women.”

“James is no longer in some garage band anymore,” replied Clarisse importantly. “He’s in the biggest heavy metal band in the world right now, and he needs to look the part. Metallica can’t have a portly lead singer.”

“Why the hell not?” Cliff shot. “It’s heavy metal! Nobody gives a fuck.”

“James can have the cookies back after he goes out and repaints the fence,” said Clarisse. “It’s about time the man actually did something besides fuck that Brazilian chick of his.”

“She’s Argentinean,” corrected Cliff.

“Whatever,” Clarisse snapped. “All that I know is that James is as worthless as an old mule. He doesn’t do anything.”

“He’s on vacation!” Cliff pointed out. “He’s been out on tour for the past fucking year. Give the dude a break, and give him back his cookies.”

Clarisse whirled around to face Cliff. “No,” she said firmly. “He’s fat.”

“James motherfucking Hetfield is not fat!” Cliff roared. He couldn’t believe what an asinine argument that he and Clarisse were having.

Just then, the phone rang. “Somebody get that!” Cliff ranted.

It rang again, and again. It looked as if once again Cliff was deemed the only person ever capable of answering the phone. He trudged out into the hallway where the phone was kept, and picked up the receiver.

“What the fuck do you want?” he snarled.

“It sounds like I called at a bad time,” said the familiar voice of Emily on the other end.

“I’m sorry Emily,” Cliff replied, turning completely red. “Do you think that James is fat?” he asked.

“Uh no,” Emily answered, a little confused by the randomness of Cliff’s question. “Why do you ask?”

“Never mind,” Cliff sighed and lit a cigarette because Fran and her no smoking policy could go to hell. “What the fuck are you calling for?” he grumbled into the phone.

“Is it a crime for me to call to talk to the daughter that I helped to raise for six years?” Emily snapped bitterly.

“You can’t talk to Cecily right now,” said Cliff. He blew out a mouthful of smoke. “She got herself into a bit of trouble, so I took away her phone privileges.”

“Trouble?” Emily repeated. “What’d she do?” Emily couldn’t imagine Cecily ever being in that much trouble with Cliff. She was his perfect, little, angel.

“She went to the haunted house with that Jackson kid,” Cliff explained. “I knew that I should never have allowed that boy to come here.”

“I wonder if they saw or felt any paranormal activity like I did when I went,” Emily mused.

“What!” Cliff squawked. “You went to the haunted house?”

“Oh yeah,” replied Emily. “I went years ago with Lars.”

“Lars?” said Cliff. “We could never get that little Danish twerp to even set foot in that house.”

“He went with me,” said Emily. “He wanted to go with a lady. The house is cursed only against men, so he felt that he would be safer if I went with him. We went during the afternoon, and that house is wicked, let me tell you.”

The very thought of Emily gallivanting around some haunted house with Lars made Cliff insanely jealous, even if it had happened years ago, and he and Emily were completely over now.

“So did you fuck him there?” Cliff snarled. “Suck his dick? Is it true what they say about Danish men?”

“Actually I would of,” retorted Emily hotly. “But we didn’t want to have the ghosts watching. Now since I can’t talk with Cecily, could you at least become an adult for two minutes so that I can talk to you about her travel arrangements?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Cliff shot. “I guess so. How about she leaves the fourteenth of July, and then returns home on the eighteenth, the day after the wedding.”

“You said that I could have her for at least two weeks!” returned Emily. “That’s hardly any time for her to see me at all.”

“What does she need to be in England for two fucking weeks for?” Cliff asked. “It only takes like five fucking minutes to get married.”

“England is not just around the corner Cliff,” pointed out Emily. “I was hoping to have some time with her before the wedding to show her around, take her shopping, and I know that Evan is just dying to meet her.”

“Oh yeah,” said Cliff. “How is Evan Fitz-douche-bag doing?”

“He’s doing quite well,” Emily answered haughtily. “He’s taking me on a fabulous honeymoon to Japan.”

“Japan is for pussies,” Cliff retorted bitterly. “You’ll hate it. They eat live puppies over there.”

“Well good then,” said Emily. “I’ll have to be sure to try it while I’m over there. I told Evan that I wanted to go some place that I had never been to before, and I’ve never been to Japan. I’m very excited.”

“Japan isn’t very romantic,” Cliff whined.

“Cliff,” said Emily. “Since when do you care about what’s romantic? You once proposed to me while taking a piss.”

“And I also proposed to you on top of the Eiffel Tower,” Cliff reminded her. “I’m going to propose to Clarisse when I return from Gastropod’s mini tour.”

“Oh yeah?” said Emily. “Are you going to call off her wedding too? If you do, my advice is: don’t wait until a week before to call it off. I know from way too much experience that you can’t get your deposit money back from your vendors.”

“I won’t be canceling my wedding to Clarisse,” Cliff said hotly. “I’m way more mature now. I actually want to get married and have the woman that I love be my legal wife. I also want a real, honest-to-God, by law, mother for Cecily.”

Emily was quiet. It hurt her that never in all of the years that she had wasted with Cliff she had never gotten to adopt Cecily as her own, mostly because he had never married her. She cleared her throat.

“I’m going to book her plane ticket tomorrow morning,” she said firmly. “Cecily can spend the Fourth of July with you since that’s an American holiday. She can leave out of San Francisco early in the morning of the fifth, and she can return home Sunday the nineteenth. That’s when Evan and I leave for Japan, so we can all head to the airport together. That at least gives me just about two weeks with her. We’re going to be very busy. She’s doing all of my flowers for the ceremony, and I want her to help me chose the cake flavors too.”

“La tee da,” quipped Cliff. “Oh alright,” he sighed. “You can have her from the fifth until the nineteenth, but not a day more.” He took out his wallet. “Let me give you my credit card number,” he said. “I’ll pay for it.”

“You better not Cliff,” said Emily. “With your credit card number I could get dangerous if I get annoyed with you, which I’m quite sure that I will,” she joked. “Evan and I can get Cecily’s ticket. It’s our wedding, and we really want her to be there for it. I want to spend my special day, with my special girl.”

Cliff was not down with that. If Evan was going to pay for part of the plane ticket, what other things would he buy for Cecily? Meals? Trips? Clothes? Cliff did not like the idea of some other dude purchasing shit for his daughter.

“I don’t think I like that,” Cliff started to mumble, but Emily hastily cut him off.

“When she gets here we’ll take her out for a nice dinner, and then put her straight to bed,” said Emily. “Mrs. Fitzgerald is very particular about everything being neat and perfect, so please make sure that Cecily brings a lot of her good clothes, and is nicely dressed on the plane. She can wear the pink and black skirt with the matching sweater that I bought for her. That always looks so nice on her, and it’s halfway comfortable for traveling.”

“Uh okay,” Cliff mumbled, trying to commit pink and black skirt to memory. “Which shoes should she wear with it?”

Emily couldn’t help but smile over the thought of Cliff fussing over Cecily’s shoes. “She has a matching pair of black and pink shoes Cliff,” she answered. “No band or skull T-shirts, at least not for the first day. Not even the one that I bought her that has the skull with the purple bow on it. And make sure the jeans that you send with her don’t have holes in them.”

“I know how to dress my daughter,” Cliff snapped. “I keep Cecily looking plenty tidy and well groomed. After all, I do take pride in her.”

“I know you do,” Emily admitted. “I’m sorry. I just miss being all motherly towards her. I guess that telling you what to have her pack made me feel like I was still more involved with her life.”

“I promise that I’ll have her dressed well enough for the high and mighty Fitzgerald’s,” Cliff sighed as he tried to scribble down what Emily had told him about Cecily’s clothes. It was an awful lot for a stoned bassist to remember.

“I know that you will Cliff,” said Emily. “And I promise that I’ll take good care of her while she’s with me in England.”

Cliff let out a sigh. He was actually feeling a few tiny pangs of missing Emily a little bit. “I know Emily,” he agreed. “I know that you will…”
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Shayi
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Bring me that horizon
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*G* Well I'm glad to know you're not reeeeally like Clarisse ;)

Her shopping trip with Fran was enlightening to say the least! It's certainly interesting that she shared that with Fran - and nice to see that Clarisse is capable of feeling at least some kind of remorse. Although it will be interesting to see whether Fran does let James know - because to be honest, I know she said that she wouldn't tell - but surely it woudl be far more damaging to Cliff for her to keep it quiet. (and HOORAY! James is going to have some new underpants!).

The argument over the cookies made me laugh so much (although now I REALLY want peanut butter cookies!) - especially when it was the first thing that he asked Emily. Man that was hilarious. And the conversation between Cliff and Scott about Hildegarde and Gastropod - men! It was so funny.

“You look pissier than a cat with a knot in its tail.”

Absolute winning line. That was awesome - it made me think of my cat and how pissy she got when she had a piece of paper tied to her tail... (yes two smaller brothers, what do you expect). She was hella pissed.

And Cliff and Emily - it's good to know that he's feeling some pangs at not being with her - and I don't know, but I feel like from her pissy reaction she perhaps isn't as indifferent as she would like to be?

Wonderful wonderful episode - I cannot wait to see where all the different threads are going to lead.
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Battery
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Oh wow, did Clarisse actually feel a bit of a remorse?... :blink:
Go Francesca!!! :nanner: I love how you describe her here, she's so down to earth, funny and sober at the same time, and the bit with her buying James underwear was awesome! :lol:
And poor Cliff.... I guess it had to be quite painful to him, talk with Emily after ridiculous argue with bitchy Clarisse... :( And he miss Emily, and he felt jealousy when she told him she went to haunted house with Lars.... :( Poor guy...
Awesome chapters!! :heart: :heart:
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Simone
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Mistress of Puppets
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:horns: :heart: :horns2 damn these were sooo good!!!!
I can't believe Clarisse felt bad there...I CAN"T BELIEVE IT!!!!! :nanner:

But I still hate her :lol:

You and King Diamond rock :horns: :D :horns2
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Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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That was mean, James is not fat, and who cares if he got fat anyway? We'd still love him :rolleyes: And I think Cliff is missing Emily already, he sounded jealous :wink He'd better come to his senses, before he marries Clarisse and Emily marries Even :(
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Shayi- I am thrilled that you are delighted that James got new underwear! :dance We should all have a drink for him! I'm sorry that I made you want peanut butter cookies.

Maggie- I like Francesca too. She definitely has her hands full keeping up after everybody since she seems to be the only sane one in this.
:)

Simone- Wow. Thank you. You made my day using me name and Kin Diamond together in one sentance. :horns: Long live the King!

Vanessa- I hope that you feel better soon. :angel


Chapter Forty-Four


It was one of those rare summer nights where Cliff let Cecily sleep out on the screen porch. Even though the sun had gone down, it was still fairly warm outside, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The generous sprinkling of stars illuminated the entire landscape. Another reason why Cecily was finally allowed to sleep out on the porch was because Jackson was gone. Cliff didn’t have to worry about the little fucker sneaking out of his bedroom window, and shimming down to the porch in order to have quick fuck with his daughter.

The sofa on the screen porch folded out into a bed. As Cecily sat awake she couldn’t help but wonder if Jackson missed her. She was sure missing him. She had on her headphones and was listening to the King Diamond CD that he gave her. She had almost the entire Them album memorized word for word.

Cliff made his way out to the porch. He was leaving early the next morning for his mini tour, James had already left that evening to do some video slot thing with Metallica, and would be gone for a few days as well. Clarisse had insisted that Cliff spend most of the day and evening with her, since he was going to be gone for three days. He had taken her out to the white rock in a row boat, where they had had a picnic. After they had finished eating, Clarisse was feeling horny and insisted that they fuck right out on the white rock.

“I don’t know if I want to do that Doll Face,” Cliff had said as he groped her titties. They felt smooth and squishy, like silly putty in his hands.

“Clifford,” Clarisse pouted as she unzipped his bellbottoms. “Is it because I’m not pretty enough for you?”

“Of course not!” replied Cliff. “Don’t be silly. Just look at my dick. It’s as hard as a piece of granite. I just don’t want to fuck right here.”

“Why not Cliffy?” Clarisse whined. “You always say that you’ll fuck anywhere. You even said that you fucked a girl in a hospital waiting room while your own mother was having surgery.”

“Yeah, but the Native Americans view the white rock as sacred ground,” said Cliff. “They used to leave presents to the gods here. I can’t screw a chick on sacred land.”

“You once fucked a chick on the lawn of the White House Cliff,” Clarisse reminded him.

“Yeah, but that was back when Reagan was president,” answered Cliff. “It didn’t count.”

He pulled Clarisse close, and startled to cuddle her. “It has nothing to do with you Doll Face,” he said. “You’ve got premier assets. It’s just that I have a deep respect for the Native American people. This is their land. It’s bad enough that the white man took it away from them. We don’t need to be fucking on it. It just isn’t right!”

“Clifford!” Clarisse yelped as she pulled away from him. “I don’t really care about some dead Native Americans!”

“Well I do!” returned Cliff.

And with that, he had left Clarisse stranded there at the rock until poor Scott Ian had had to come rescue her with a fishing boat. Cliff really didn’t give a shit. These next three days while he was out on tour would give him a well needed break from Clarisse and all of her bullshit.

Since Clarisse had monopolized most of his day, he had hardly had any time with Cecily. He poked his head onto the screen porch. He was very happy to see that she was still awake. He always missed her when he went out on his tours, even the short ones.

“Hey Cess,” he greeted as he made his way over to her.

Cecily immediately took off her headphones. Before she could stow them away, Cliff snatched them up, and put them on. “I never knew that you were such a King Diamond fan Cecily,” he said. “If you like Them, you might also like Conspiracy. I have it up in my drawer of LP’s, the one where I have Clarisse’s ring stashed.”

A sickening feeling came over Cecily with the mention of Clarisse’s ring

“Thank you Daddy,” she replied nervously.

“What’s wrong Cess?” Cliff asked. “You alright? You’re not going to faint again are you?”

“I’m fine Daddy,” Cecily reassured him.

Cliff gave her a hug. “I’m going to miss you Angelfuck,” he said. “Would you like me to bring you back anything from the road?”

“You could bring me back Jackson,” muttered Cecily.

Cliff sighed. “I don’t know what you see in that goofy looking boy,” he declared.

“I don’t know what most women see in you,” returned Cecily.

“I play bass guitar,” Cliff boasted as if he were the only creature in the world that could do that.

“So does Jackson,” shot Cecily.

Cliff put his arm around Cecily. “I’ll make a deal with you Cess,” he said. “If you can be on your absofuckinglute best behavior while I’m gone, I’ll let Jackson come back to White Rock for the rest of your stay.”

“Oh thank you Daddy!” Cecily cried as she hugged him, burying her face into his chest. “That would make me so happy.”

“But,” Cliff warned. “It’s got to be the best fucking badass behavior that you can possibly manage. You’re going to have to mind Scott and Francesca, and Clarisse.”

Cecily made a face at the mention of Clarisse, but even if she had to dress up in a dirndl and perform oral sex on the bitch she would do it if it meant that she could be reunited with Jackson.

“You have my word Daddy,” Cecily replied.

“That’s my girl,” said Cliff as he kissed the top of her head, and then helped her into bed. “Just remember, you can’t give Clarisse any sass or bullshit. And make sure that Scott doesn’t leave his half grown shrooms in the shower again.”

***

In order for him to get back to San Francisco in time to leave on Gastropod’s tour, Cliff had to leave White Rock around four in the morning, an ungodly hour for anyone to be awake. Everyone else was sleeping, so Cliff had to creep around quietly as he got his shit together to leave.

“As soon as I get on that fucking bus I’m going back to sleep,” Cliff declared. “If Floods has some loud, giggly twat from the titty bar with him in the next bunk, I’m going to fucking pound both of their faces in.”

“Don’t leave without this Daddy,” said a voice.

“Cecily!” Cliff gasped. “What the fuck are you doing awake?” He whirled around to see his daughter in her pajamas, standing in the kitchen holding a paper sack. “It’s four in the fucking morning!” he cried.

“I wanted to see you before you leave,” replied Cecily. “And say goodbye. I set my alarm because Miss Francesca says that every rock star has to have a lady that sends him off.”

“Aw,” said Cliff. “Thanks Cess, but I’m no rock star. I’m a road manager. I’m a glorified hotel room booker and puke cleaner upper with an inflated paycheck. But I am lucky to have a little lady like you to send me off.”

Cecily held the paper bag out towards him. “You can’t leave without this,” she said.

Cliff opened the bag to find a couple packs of cigarettes, a lighter, three impeccably rolled spliffs, and some of Francesca’s famous peanut butter cookies.

“Cecily Virginia!” Cliff exclaimed. “You take such good care of me!”

“I couldn’t find enough weed, so I had to mix the joints with a bit with tobacco,” said Cecily. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about Angelfuck,” replied Cliff. “There’s nothing better than a fine spliff rolled by my daughter’s own two hands. Tobacco and weed is the best of both worlds.”

He gave her a hug, holding her close for a few moments. “I’ll get on Scott about the shortage of weed around here,” he continued.

“I wish that you’d let me come with you Daddy,” said Cecily.

“Cecily, I’m going to miss you terribly, really I will. I know that I let you go on a Metallica tour, but a Gastropod tour is something else,” Cliff explained. “Honestly Cecily, those boys do things that would make Metallica look like a gang of prudes. They even make me blush. Plus, you’ll be doing enough traveling soon anyway, going off to England.”

“Yes Daddy,” answered Cecily.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do while it’s your turn to be away,” Cliff sighed. “I won’t have my Cecily around to take care of me.”

“You’ll have Clarisse,” Cecily said.

“Yeah,” Cliff nodded with a wink at her. “But she doesn’t even roll a spliff half as good as you do.”

***
Clarisse was starting to feel a wee bit nervous over her upcoming liposuction. She trusted Doctor Ken, but the very thought of him making incisions and shoving a tube under her skin to suck excess fat from her gut was enough to make anyone a tad queasy. The one thing that made her feel better was Cliff’s deal with Cecily. He had told her all about it. If Cecily wanted to see Jackson again, she’d have to do everything that Clarisse told her to do. That also meant that she should have no trouble in the least with getting Cecily to help her after her surgery. Jackson depended on it.

First thing that morning she ordered Cecily to iron her blue linen sundress.

“Yes Miss Clarisse,” Cecily had answered. To Scott and Fran’s shock, the girl got up from the breakfast table and immediately went into the laundry room to set up the ironing board.

“Oh and Cecily,” Clarisse went on. “Could you change the sheets on my bed? It’s time that I get some clean linens.”

“Yes Miss Clarisse,” answered Cecily from where she stood in the laundry room ironing Clarisse’s dress.

“What’d you do to that kid?” Scott asked. “Cecily, are you feeling alright?”

“Why yes Mr. Scott,” Cecily answered. “I feel fine. Do you need anything?”

Scott shook his head, but Clarisse piped up again

“Make me some tea Cecily,” she ordered. “And make sure that you make it with the green tea, and not white. White tea makes one fat.”

Cecily put down the iron and shuffled out into the kitchen. “Do you want milk or sugar?” she asked.

“One teaspoon of artificial sweetener,” Clarisse answered. “And then when you’re finished ironing my dress, and changing my bed, I have a load of laundry for you.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Cecily sighed as she put on the tea kettle. It would be a long, hellish, three days, but if Jackson could make it through The Call of Cthulhu for her, she could endure three days of doing Clarisse’s laundry for him…
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Shayi
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Bring me that horizon
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*G* I wouldn't worry about making me want peanut butter cookies - I may have to pop to the bakery on my lunchbreak :)

Where to begin:

“Yeah, but that was back when Reagan was president,” answered Cliff. “It didn’t count.”

^^ Oh fabulous. Not only was it hilarious - but it then got me thinking about all his previous political tirades which were absolutely magnificent. I do love it when you have great links like this between the stories. (Not to mention I think it's most excellent that Clarisse and Cliff were rowing... awesomeness).

I know it's odd but I love the idea of Cess sleeping on the porch - probably because I wish that it was warm enough to do that here!

I'm glad to see that finally Cliff is being reasonable (or at least more reasonable) about Jackson. It will be much better for him if he learns to do a compromise with Cess than just dictating to her all the time.

*G* And I loved the scene where Cecily was sending Cliff off - the contents of his little bag were absolutely perfect. I couldn't stop giggling - it was just so Cliff :) He'll miss his Cess while he's away (although as for Gastropod making him blush - what on earth do those boys do? I can't imagine anything making Cliff blush!).

Man it's going to be hard for Cecily over the next few days - but I'm surely looking forward to the disasters that will no doubt ensue!

This story just keeps getting better and better with every twist and turn! I look forward to seeing what crazy antics will go on day to day - and since lots of shit things are happening in life at the moment, this is a beautiful spark on a morning which really cheers me up. So thank you for that. And I have to say that a) you are a superb writer and b) you have an absolutely magnificent imagination. I love it :)


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Some Kind Of Monster
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That was really sweet for Cecily to wake up that early to send Cliff off :horns2 And I loved her gift to him :lol: And his condition he put sounds great if only Cecily will manage to hold her temper :wink But now bitch Clarisse has perfect opportunity to use her.... Good luck Cecily! :D
I can't wait to see what will happen next.... The liposuction is coming, I smell fun :lol:
:heart: :heart: :horns2
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Simone
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I WANT TO KILL THAT BITCH!!! fuckin' god,she is an evil motherfucking whore! :angry
I'd stick that tube in her ass and suck all her guts out! :angry

Poor Cecily now has to endure all the shit Clarisse makes her do...aww!! :( Hahahah I can't believe you put there Conspiracy of all albums! That one's my ultimate favorite :horns: :heart: :horns2

Uhm...did I mention I want to kill Clarisse? :biggrin :lol:
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Verity
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Simone- Conspiracy rocks! I like King Diamond's concept albums because they tell a story. Have you listened to Abigail? That's another good one too. :P

Shayi- I am happy that my story cheers you up! I've done my job then. And yes, I do have a rather wild and out there imagination. :blush:

Maggie- You're right I think some fun is coming. And I'm glad that you liked the contents of Cliff's goodie bag. :lol:



Chapter Forty-Five

If one had told Scott Ian that one day he’d be left alone at a beach front home with three lovely ladies for three days, he would have thought that he had died and went straight to heaven. However, this didn’t seem to be the case. Fran, Cecily, and Clarisse were all sullen and downright cranky. He figured that perhaps they were all on their periods or something, but in reality, they were all just missing their special someone, in Clarisse’s case it was someones.

To make matters worse it had started to rain again, meaning that everyone was cooped up inside. Francesca sat over by the living room window, staring wistfully out at the landscape. Every five minutes she would moan “I miss James.”

Clarisse had Cecily washing the windows. Cecily was hard at work scrubbing away, her hands feeling quite numb by now. Clarisse came up behind her.

“You missed a spot,” she barked coldly pointing to the spot that Cecily had missed.

“Yes Miss Clarisse,” Cecily replied as she jumped up to reach the spot.

“And work faster!” Clarisse snapped. “You move like a snail!”

“Yes Miss,” said Cecily as she began to scrub even faster.

“You know Cecily,” Clarisse prattled on as she took out her compact mirror and admired herself in it. “If you want to keep on living the lifestyle that you’ve grown accustomed to thanks your overindulgent father,” she said. “You’re going to have to work hard. You’ll never find yourself a wealthy husband. After all, unlike me you weren’t blessed with natural beauty.”

Clarisse pirouetted in the middle of the room and fluffed her sleek, straight, hair, which next to Cecily’s wild mass of curls looked even sleeker and straighter. “Isn’t that right Cecily?” she added. “Not everyone can be a natural beauty.”

“No Miss,” replied Cecily.

“And you certainly aren’t,” said Clarisse. “Don’t you agree with me Cecily?”

“Yes Miss,” Cecily answered. “I’m not a natural beauty like you. I can only dream that someday I will turn out a quarter as beautiful as you are.”

“Would you knock it off Clarisse?” Francesca growled from her corner. She knew about Cliff’s deal that he had with Cecily, and she thought that Clarisse was abusing it immensely.

“Oh go shove a cork in it Fran!” Clarisse snapped at her. “I’m just telling the child how it is. You don’t want her to go waltzing about thinking that she’s a great beauty with her frizzy, mousy, brown hair do you?”

“I had a good friend whose hair was much mousier and plainer than Cecily’s is, and when she got to be in her twenties it turned a handsome shade of dark chestnut,” said Francesca.

“Really!” exclaimed Cecily.

Francesca nodded. “She had scads of boyfriends.”

“Oh thank you Miss Francesca!” Cecily cried as she dropped her wash rag, and made her way over to Fran. She took her hand. “You’ve made my day,” she said. “I will always think of you as a benefactress.”

“And if it doesn’t change into a color that you want it to, there’s always Clairol,” said Francesca. “I’ve dyed my hair for years, and judging by her rather dark roots, it looks like Clarisse does too.”

“That’s enough Fran,” Clarisse growled, not like having her dark roots pointed out to her.

“What?” Fran shrugged. “It’s not my fault that you need to get your roots done.”

“I can’t wait until I can dye my hair. Miss Emily dyes her hair too,” Cecily rambled on. “During the time that she lived with us she had it all kinds of different colors. She had it red, and brunette, and dark blonde, and red-blonde. No matter what color she dyed it, she always looked beautiful, even Daddy said so. He loved all of her different hair colors”

“Shut up!” Clarisse screeched at Cecily. “Enough gibberish, or else I’ll have to tell your Father you’ve been very naughty. Now get back to work! You have laundry to do once you finish the windows.”

Cecily went back to polishing the windows at once.

“Give the poor girl a break Clarisse,” said Scott Ian.

“Don’t you want the house clean for when our boys come home?” Clarisse shot.

“James says that the only time he notices that a house needs cleaning is when the TV screen is so dusty that it gets hard to see,” reported Fran.

“Well that’s how you run your household,” Clarisse quipped. “It’s not how I run mine.”

“You’ve been working the poor girl all day!” Francesca argued. “You haven’t given Cecily a break at all.”

“I’m fine Miss Francesca,” Cecily said, not stopping her work.

“See?” Clarisse snapped. “Cecily is perfectly fine.” She turned to leave the room, her high heeled sandals clicking against the wood floor as she left.

“She’ll work herself into her own grave for that woman if it means that she can have Jackson here again,” Francesca sighed to Scott.

“Jackson?” Scott repeated. “What does this have to do with him?”

Fran filled Scott Ian in on Cliff’s deal.

“That explains a lot,” said Scott as he watched Cecily scrub. “Well, Cliff said that not only did Cecily have to mind Clarisse, but she also has to mind us too. I say that she stops cleaning and has some fun.” He stood up and made his way over to Cecily. He snatched the rag right out of her hand. “You little lady,” he commanded. “Are finished working for the day.”

“But Mr. Scott,” said Cecily. “I still have to wash all of the windows upstairs, dust the staircase, do the laundry, fix Clarisse her paraffin wax dip, take out the trash, and dust the Apache Room.”

“Your Dad said that you had to mind all of your elders,” Scott replied. “That includes Fran and me too. We say that you’re done working.”

“Well alright,” Cecily replied wearily. “My hands could really use a break. They’re shriveled like prunes from all the soap, and I have blisters.”

“I know what you can do,” said Scott Ian cheerfully as he gave Cecily’s hand a kiss. “Why don’t you march over to the piano and play us a tune?”

Cecily frowned. “Oh Mr. Scott,” she sighed. “I hate playing the piano.”

“Why?” Scott asked. “How could you hate playing the piano?”

“Because I suck at it,” answered Cecily.

“I’m sure that you’re a hell of a lot better than I am,” Scott reassured her. He led her over to the old, upright, piano that sat in the corner. James had actually bought the piano at an auction, for his ex lover at the time who had a beautiful singing voice. After he dumped her, no one played the piano anymore until Cliff made Cecily take piano lessons. They found out that the piano was grossly out of tune, but Cliff had it tuned just so that Cecily could practice. She had hardly touched the piano since arriving at White Rock.

Scott sat Cecily down on the piano stool. “Play something for us Cess,” he ordered.

Cecily slowly and drudgingly started to play a minor scale.

“Oh come on Cecily,” Scott quipped. “Play something badass.”

Cecily sighed as she mechanically launched into the first movement of the Clementi Sonatina. She fucking hated it, and it certainly wasn’t badass. The Russian piano dude that Cliff made her study with had Cecily working on that cock sucking sonatina for the past nine months. She wasn’t allowed to learn anything else until she could play it perfectly without looking at the music, ten times in a row. And Cliff wondered why she wanted to drop a bomb on the piano.

“Scott you’re torturing the poor girl,” said Fran. “She looks absolutely miserable.”

“Oh alright,” Scott sighed. “That’s enough Cecily. You can stop. Let me play something.”

Scott plopped down at the piano and began to launch into an Irish drinking song about a lovely bonnie lass and a handsome boatman.

“I have a handsome boatman,” said Francesca. “His name is James.”

“And mine is Jackson,” Cecily added.

For the duration of the afternoon, the two girls forgot all about their worries. Cecily forgot all about Clarisse, and Francesca forgot about James’s absence as they sang Irish drinking song, after Irish drinking song. Scott Ian tinkled along on the piano, trying his best to keep up. Let’s just say that he’s a much more accomplished guitarist than pianist.

Their merriment was interrupted by Clarisse, who burst into the room like a whirlwind.

“I’m so sorry Miss Clarisse!” Cecily squealed. “I’ll get back to washing the windows at once.”

Clarisse let out a wail as she in most dramatic fashion flung herself down onto the couch, crying into one of Kirk’s pine needle stuffed throw pillows.

“What’s wrong Clarisse?” Scott asked. “Got more sand in your crotch?”

“Shut up you ignorant boy!” Clarisse snarled through tears. “This is serious!”

“Now, now, Clarisse,” said Francesca in a much sweeter tone as she sat down on the sofa next to Clarisse, and began to smooth out her hair. “You can tell us anything. Do you miss Cliff?”

“It’s much worse than that,” Clarisse cried. She let out a howl. Cecily offered her a clean wash rag for her to blow her nose with. Clarisse grabbed the rag and blew her nose. “I have to have surgery tomorrow,” she whispered tearfully.

“You’re having surgery tomorrow?” Scott Ian exclaimed. “My God!”

“I can’t believe that Cliff would leave you right when you’re going to be having surgery,” mused Francesca. “What a dick.”

“I can’t believe that Daddy would leave for a tour while you’re having surgery either,” said Cecily. “Especially since it’s such a brief tour. When Geezer had to have his hips operated on, Daddy flew all the way home from Australia to be there.”

“He flew all the way from Australia for a fucking dog?” Scott asked. “That’s hardcore.”

Clarisse let out a few more pathetic whimpers in order to direct the attention back to her. “Clifford doesn’t know about it,” she squeaked.

“How could you not tell him?” Francesca asked. “Clarisse, he’s going to be worried about you.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell him,” Clarisse sniffled. She daintily blew her nose. “I didn’t want my darling Clifford to worry about me and my sickness.”

“Sickness?” Scott and Fran repeated.

Clarisse had everyone just where she wanted them. She could even see a look of fear on the little brat Cecily’s face as well.

“What sickness are you talking about?” asked Scott. “I never knew that you were sick. You’re not going to die Clarisse are you?”

“Don’t ask such forward questions,” Francesca scolded him.

“Hopefully I won’t,” Clarisse sighed dramatically. “I have the, the,” she began as she bubbled over into tears. If she never did cut it in modeling, she could try acting. She was proving to be a very good little actress. They were eating her every word. She lowered her voice into an iridescent whisper. “I have,” she went on. “I have cancer.”

“Cancer!” Scott, Francesca, and Cecily all shrieked.

“Oh no fucking way!” Scott squealed. “No shit. That sucks ass. I have an uncle that died of cancer.”

“You’re a big help,” Francesca hissed facetiously at him as she smacked Scott upside the head. She turned her attention back to Clarisse and took her hand. “We’ll do whatever we can to support you and get you through this,” she vowed. “Whatever we can do to help, let us know.”

“The surgery is to remove the cancer,” said Clarisse as she rubbed at her eyes. “There’s a small tumor, and they’re going to remove it tomorrow morning. Hopefully they can get it all and then I’ll be fine.”

“Do you have someone to take you to the hospital tomorrow?” Francesca asked.

Clarisse shook her head. “No,” she sniffled. “I have no one. I didn’t want to tell my family about it and worry them too. Please don’t tell anyone about this, certainly not Cliff. I’m hoping that they can get the tumor, and then it will be all gone. He doesn’t have to know.”

“I personally think that you should be honest with Cliff and tell him,” said Fran. “But if it’s your wish, I won’t interfere. We’ll take you to the hospital tomorrow and wait with you so you don’t have to be alone.”

“Oh thank you!” responded Clarisse. “I should be able to go home in the afternoon, but I might need you guys to help me since I’m sure that I’ll have lots of stitches and I might be quite sore.”

“Of course we’ll help you,” said Scott. “Actually, we can start right now. You should go right to bed Clarisse and get some rest. I noticed that you have been looking kind of piqued lately. I guess it was the cancer.”

Clarisse was about to tell him to shut the fuck up, but she bit her tongue. “Thank you,” she murmured as she gave a couple more pathetic sniffles into the wash rag, and got up to leave the room.

“I’m very sorry to hear about your illness Miss Clarisse,” said Cecily sincerely as Clarisse went by her. She downright hated Clarisse, but cancer was a vicious and horrifying disease. She truly felt sorry for her having to go through it.

Clarisse ignored the silly girl as she made her way out of the room and up the stairs. She was feeling mighty good about her Oscar worthy acting job. Of course she knew that they would all find out once they got to the hospital that Clarisse wasn’t going in for any cancer surgery, but she’d worry about that later. She wouldn’t have to confront them until after she woke up from the surgery anyway and by that point, she’d be groggy from the anesthetic and all bandaged and vulnerable. Surely they would be forgiving of her and her little white lie. After all, in her opinion Francesca, Scott Ian, and Cecily, all were very stupid…
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Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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I just caught up, and by the gods, Clarisse is a bitch :angry Pretending to have cancer to get sympathy is evil, my aunt, who is also my godmother, had breast cancer several years ago, so this is not a laughing matter for me :( :angry And her bossing around Cecily is almost as bad, I hope Cliff finds out about the deception, but then again, that would break his heart. I did like Scott playing Irish drinking songs on the piano, though, that was funny :lol:
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Raedoll
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Poor Twisted Me
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Can we just start calling Clarisse....hmmm, could it be, SATAN? Please? Pretty please with glasses of fine Sherry and bonbons served with a dish of chocolate fondue and whipped vanilla cream? <3 I hate that woman. And go James and Scott for losing the ring!! YAAAAAAAAAAY! I hope Cliff shoved Clarisse and he makes her hemorage from her plastic surgery! MUAHAHA! :3 More soon? and Poor Cecily for having to work so hard...I'm glad Scott and Fran made her take a break. and I hope Cliff will let Jackson come back!
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Shayi
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Bring me that horizon
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*G* Oh my oh my - the idea of Scott Ian playing irish drinking songs (in a not very accomplished manner) upon the piano made me laugh so hard. But it does sound like a fun way to kill a bit of time! And it made me laugh when you said about Cecily wanting to drop a bomb on the piano (I remember feeling like that about piano lessons when I was a kid!).

All that yes Miss Clarisse, no Miss Clarisse made me want to punch Clarisse. Poor Cecily! Although good on Francesca boosting her confidence about herself and her hair and what have you - that was pretty cool of her. And I think top marks go to Scott for pointing out that they were all in charge, not just Clarisse the bitch :) (And to add - Damn her and her sleek straight hair!! Ahem. Mine is prone to frizz when I least want it to...)

When Geezer had to have his hips operated on, Daddy flew all the way home from Australia to be there.”
^^ Now that is dedication - I agree with Mr Ian... that is hardcore!

As for Clarisse and her acting - firstly - she doesn't deserve to touch one of Mr Kirk's special throw pillows when she's being such a cowbag. Secondly, let's just say that I'm really, really looking forward to what happens next. I can see a lot of trouble brewing on the horizon!

Fantastic chapter - I would so, so love to see this made into a soap. I would watch it absolutely religiously for sure :)
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Battery
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Cecily and Francesca singing and Scott playing Irish drinking songs on the piano were awesome :lol: Of course bitch Clarisse had to interrupt them... And how could she use so serious matter to cover the truth of her having only a liposuction :ugh: . It's really mean to make everyone worry so much when there's not even a reason to be worried... :angry :angry Clarisse is pure evil :ugh:
I can't wait to see what you prepared for us in the next chapter :dance
:heart: :heart:
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