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Daughter of the Year; Ze Sequel to Father of the Year
Topic Started: December 14, 2007, 12:15 am (11,145 Views)
Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Go Evan! :cool Flip off the old bird :)
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Shayi- Thank you! That is fucking awesome that you got to stay in a fabulous hotel in London. I will sigh with envy. :wink I might need your help since I've never been to London before. I don't know much about it.

Vanessa- I'm glad that you like Evan flipping off his Mom. I thought that she rather deserved it. :dance




Chapter Seventy-Four
Meanwhile back in the United States



“You got the booze for the room Cliff?” Cheyenne asked as the door to the Rose Room opened and Cliff stepped inside.

Cliff nodded and held up a bottle of Pearl vodka in one hand, and a bottle of Captain Morgan in the other.

“You brought me rum!” Cheyenne said happily.

“Anything for you Lady Daisy,” he said as he smiled at her.

He did have to admit that Cheyenne was a bit of an airhead, but she was an airhead with a kind heart. She even fucking worked at the nursing home for heaven’s sake. Not to mention she was a totally smoking hot airhead. Cliff thought that she looked quite tantalizing lying on the bed on her stomach, with her upper half propped up on a pillow. She was wearing nothing except an oversize Master of Puppets T-shirt, that was actually so long that it just about covered her ass. It left just enough of the ass cheek out to play peek-a-boo from under the bottom of the shirt, driving Cliff wild. A pair of high heels and some big hoop earrings completed her random outfit.

He handed her the bottle of rum.

“I love rum,” Cheyenne breathed as she took it. “It’s my favorite. Your aunt won’t mind that we raided her liquor cabinet?”

“She won’t give a fuck,” replied Cliff confidently as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a couple of china teacups. “But,” Cliff continued as he poured some vodka into one of the teacups. “She may have a conniption fit if she finds out that I stole two of her Staffordshire teacups, so be careful not to break them.”

“I won’t,” promised Cheyenne as she clamored around Cliff and waited for him to pour her a teacup of rum.

Cliff was taking advantage of the fact that Jason was away for the night. He had invited Cheyenne to stay the night with him in the Rose Room, an invitation that she gladly accepted. It had only been a couple of months ago that she was just another screaming groupie staking out the Metallica boys wherever she could. Now here she was getting personal invitations from the likes of Cliff Burton and Jason Newsted.

In order to make their night of senseless fucking complete, Cliff had swiped some booze from Aunt Josephine’s liquor cabinet.

“This rum is pretty good,” Cheyenne declared as she daintily took a swig from her teacup. “You know what would make it better?”

“A nice, fat, joint,” Cliff replied as he searched around his desk for one.

“Besides that,” Cheyenne went on. “It would be really kick ass if they made Metallica rum. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“They make Metallica everything else nowadays,” replied Cliff as he located one and lit it. “Commercialized little fuckers. What all do they have?”

“They have action figures,” answered Cheyenne. “I have four of James, six of Lars, two Kirk’s, and one Jason. I also have a Metallica license plate, a set of Metallica coasters, a Metallica wind chime, Metallica salt and pepper shakers, three Metallica music boxes, and a Metallica lunchbox.”

“Next thing you know they’ll make Metallica paper dolls,” snorted Cliff as he took a hit and handed the joint to Cheyenne. “I could just imagine that.”

“Me too,” Cheyenne agreed as she took a hit. “It would really be awesome if they had the paper dolls initially come naked.”

Cliff spat out his drink. “You know Lady Daisy,” he said. “You’re a sick fuck, you know that?”

“Metallica is my life,” Cheyenne replied with a shrug as she finished off her rum. “And that includes you Cliff.”

She reached over, took his drink, and set it down on the desk. Then she reached up and delicately placed her long, slender, fingers on his cheeks, pulling him down to her level. She began to practically suck his tongue out of his mouth as she kissed him hungrily, and passionately. Cliff had her down on the bed and was on top of her within seconds.

“You remember,” he said quickly as she reached up under the Master of Puppets shirt to fondle her titties. “We’re just fucking because we’re both lonely, and that’s it. No emotional attachment. No bullshit.”

“Yes Cliff,” Cheyenne breathed huskily. “I appreciate you being honest with me, unlike Jason. All I care is that I get to be with you, even if it is just for one night.”

Cheyenne was like a very experienced and stunningly hot hooker. She was even better than a hooker because she was free.

Cliff slipped off the Master of Puppets shirt and flung it to the floor. “You fucking rock Cheyenne,” he murmured as he gazed longingly at her naked bod.

“No,” answered Cheyenne. “Metallica rocks.”

Cliff was too busy to answer her. He was slowly licking Cheyenne from her torso up to her titties as if he were some kid licking an ice cream cone at the state fair. Cheyenne moaned as Cliff slowly made his way up to her neck, stopped, and then just held her close for a few minutes, lying there like a half dead slug. After a few minutes of intimate silence he finally whispered

“Let’s smash.”

Cheyenne nodded, and the two got right down to their business of ragging, hard ass, fucking. Cheyenne was silent as she tightly held onto Cliff for dear life, digging her fingernails into his arm as he worked. The only sounds came from the bed squeaking, and every once in a while Cliff would groan “Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. Yeah.” That was until of course the phone rang.

Cliff proceeded right on with his business. He was much too hot and heavy to stop now. It could end up killing him. The phone rang again, and again. “Aunt Jo!” he yelled as he gripped to Cheyenne so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Answer that!”

He knew that screeching at Aunt Josephine was in vain. She was in her suite on the other side of the villa. Cliff would need a walkie talkie in order to communicate with her. The phone rang again, making it clear that Aunt Josephine had no intention of answering it herself.

“It’s two in the morning Cliff,” Cheyenne whispered. “It could be something urgent.”

“Just let the fucking thing ring,” Cliff sneered, already starting to lose some of the mood that he was in. They should have turned the phone off before they had started. That would have been intelligent.

Cheyenne who was rather happy for the break from the vigorous fucking, reached over for the phone that was on the night table, and glanced at Aunt Josephine’s caller ID. “It’s from England,” she announced. “You should take this Cliff. It could be your daughter.”

Cliff sighed as he rolled off of her. “The last that we spoke I had a huge fight with Emily,” he replied. “She’s probably all upset about it.”

But just why does she have to call right when I’m in the middle of some of the best sex that I’ve had in a long fucking time, he thought as he sat up and swung his legs over to the side of the bed. He took the phone from Cheyenne and tossed his hair out of the way of his ear.

“Hello?” he said into the phone, trying not to sound too breathless.

“Cliff,” Emily’s voice greeted abruptly from the other end. “Have you talked to Cecily lately?”

“No,” Cliff replied, confused over the sense of frantic urgency that was in Emily’s voice. “Not since you and Evan Fitz-suck-my-balls decided to whisk my daughter away from me for the Christmas holidays,” he put in sourly. Emily was the last person that he wanted to deal with right now.

“She’s gone Cliff,” Emily said, her voice shaky.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Cliff demanded, trying to process the information with a sexually charged and a rather booze saturated brain.

“She’s disappeared,” Emily replied. “I went to get her out of bed this morning, and she wasn’t there.”

“Well where the fuck is she?” Cliff snarled, urgency creeping into his voice as well.

Emily was silent for a few seconds, trying to gather some sort of composure. “I don’t know Cliff,” she said finally. “I don’t know where she is.”

Cliff was stunned speechless. The combination of upset, vodka, and heated passion was making him feel quite sick. “How could you not know where she is?” he mumbled finally, being rather redundant but he didn’t know what else to say.

“I put her to bed last night,” Emily went on, through tears. “I got up this morning and she never came downstairs, so I went up to get her. She was gone. I thought that maybe she had called you, and you knew where she went off to.”

“No,” Cliff answered, his whole entire mouth going dry. His heart was racing now, but his body went so numb that he could no longer feel it.

“I’m scared Cliff,” Emily whispered into the phone. “I’m going to have to call the police.”

“I can’t fucking believe this Emily!” Cliff shot out of nowhere, the initial shock wearing off, and sending him into piss off mode. “Cecily has been in England with you for what? Three whole fucking days? You’ve already managed to lose her?”

“Cliff,” said Emily desperately. “This isn’t my fault.”

“It fucking is!” barked Cliff. “You lost her! You lost her Emily! You lost the most important fucking thing that I have in my life!” His voice cracked as he screamed. “I should have never, ever, ever, ever, let her go off to England! You obviously don’t know how to keep track of her!”

“I kept good track of her for six years,” Emily shot, now back into full blown tears. “Evan is out looking for her.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Cliff snarled. “I’ll see what flights I can get myself on.”

“I’m sure that we can find her Cliff,” Emily mumbled. “You don’t have to run all the way to England.”

“Fuck you Emily!” Cliff growled. “I can’t trust you idiots to do anything right, let alone find my daughter. I’m going over there where I can fucking look for her myself.”

He slammed down the phone, and turned to Cheyenne. “Cecily is missing,” he choked, the words being difficult to say.

“Oh my God!” Cheyenne gasped. Like a mountain lion, she climbed through the bed covers over to Cliff and gave him a hug.

“I’m going over there,” Cliff went on. “My little girl could be in danger! In danger on the streets of London! They have thugs in London!”

“They have thugs everywhere,” said Cheyenne.

“They have Jack the Ripper in London,” Cliff went on, starting to spiral himself into quite the tizzy as he immediately pulled out a phonebook to call the airport.

“I think Jack the Ripper is dead by now,” Cheyenne mused, though she knew that she wasn’t helping much. Cliff was absolutely frantic, which was quite different for someone who was usually so laidback about life. It was clear that Cecily meant so much to him.

She silently watched from the bed as Cliff upon hearing that there were no more seats available on a nonstop flight to London that was leaving that morning told the flight agent to go fuck themselves.

“Go fuck your sister! Go to hell! My daughter needs me!” Cliff shouted as he slammed down the phone. He put his head in his hands. “I want my daughter back with me,” he groaned.

“Cliff,” Cheyenne said gently as she put her hands on his shoulders. “You need to try and pull yourself together. I know that you’re panicked, you have every right to be, but Cecily needs her Dad to keep it together. You try and cool down a bit. I promise that I’ll get you on a flight to London.”

Cliff paced about the room as Cheyenne called the airport. She was much more relaxed and cordial over the phone.

“Hey Sugar,” she said sweetly into the phone to the flight agent. “I just have a teensy, weensy, problem. I have a friend that really needs to get to London. Would you be willing to help a poor, little, thing like me?”

Her airheadedness seemed to come in handy, for she got a hell of a lot farther booking the flight than Cliff had.

“Cliff,” she said within ten minutes. “There’s a San Francisco to Atlanta, and then to London that leaves this morning at six. I need your credit card number in order to book it.”

Cliff nodded as he picked up the pair of bellbottoms that were on the floor and grabbed his wallet out of the pocket. “Thank you,” he mumbled to Cheyenne as he handed her the card.

Cheyenne nodded and took the card. He watched her as she booked the flight. He was actually really glad to have her there. She was more than just a hole to stick his dick in. Right now, she was actually being the glue that was holding him together at the moment and for that he was very thankful to have her. No wonder the entire band had tapped her.

“Book two seats,” Cliff said suddenly.

Cheyenne just looked at, raising her eyebrows. “Two seats?” she repeated. “Are you sure?”

Cliff nodded. “I need you to come with me. I can’t get through this alone…”
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Some Kind Of Monster
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I feel so sorry for Emily.... :( She's bitched at for something that is not her fault.... At least Cliff is coming to London!!
And Evan flipping his mother off was pleasant vision :biggrin
"He flipped his mother off, though he did have quite the bit of trouble getting the middle finger to go up without the ring finger going up with it." :lol:
And Cheyenne.... I love her!! :D And she's going to London with Cliff, I smell fun!
“Let’s smash.” that sent me into series of stupid giggles :lol: :horns2
:heart: :heart: !!!
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Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Cheyenne's not bad for an airhead :wink It's great that she got him on the flight, her act was great! :biggrin But Cecily and Kirk are going to be in big trouble, though :(
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Verity
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Shall we see what Cecily and Kirk are up to? I think so. :dance



Chapter Seventy-Five


Cecily was not in any danger. Actually, she was very far from it as she lazily laid in her glorious kick ass bed, in her swanky suite at the Four Seasons. It was now getting close to noon in London, but she had no desire to emerge from the heavenly cloud known as her bed. She had no reason to anyway. She couldn’t really go anywhere. Nevertheless, she decided to make use of the extraordinary bathroom, so she finally got up to go run herself a bubble bath.

The room was completely quiet. From over by the windows she could hear a car horn honking, and the distant sound of traffic, but it was all very far away, for Cecily was on a very high floor of the building. Kirk had hung the do not disturb sign on the door so that the maids wouldn’t come in and find her. They would surely wonder just what a twelve-year-old little girl was doing alone in a suite so opulent. Fuck, they’d wonder what a twelve-year-old was doing in a hotel room by herself period.

“I wonder if my Daddy is on his way yet,” Cecily said aloud to herself. “I remember when I snuck on that airplane and went off to San Francisco, Claudia didn’t even do anything. She didn’t look for me, she didn’t give a shit. Surely Daddy won’t do the same. He must care about me more than that.”

She watched as the mammoth bathtub slowly filled up with warm water. “I hate making them both worry so much about me,” she sighed. “But it’s the only way. I just can’t let two hearts that belong together be broken forever.”

Cecily used the burgundy ribbon that had been tied around an extra roll of toilet paper to tie up her long mass of curls so that they wouldn’t get wet. She didn’t know why she did that. She would need to wash her hair anyway, but it seemed to be what adult ladies did whenever they took a bath, and Cecily considered her self an adult lady now. She submerged herself into the water, the warmth greeting her like a warm cloud of silk as she settled down into the bath of bubbles. Kirk sure was stashing her away in style. She owed him big time. Perhaps she’d get him a fine Christmas present such as a pound of fine chocolates, or bath salts that came in a fancy bottle.

Cecily soaked in the tub until her toes and fingers were wrinkled up like raisins, and she felt completely warm, almost hot, inside and out. She got out of the tub, dried herself off, and threw on her jeans and girly skull shirt. Besides the pajamas from Kirk those were the only clothes that she had for the next few days. Not that it really mattered.

She wandered down into the sitting room and over to the wall of windows where she drew open the drapes letting in a flood of daylight. It was raining, but still, having the curtains open let in a lot of natural light, even if it was a rather gloomy day outside. To entertain herself she decided to write a letter to Jackson, hoping that Mr. Kirk would mail it for her. She hunted around the desk for some hotel stationary and a pen. In the process she found a huge book with all of the hotel’s amenities in it. For shits and giggles she decided to read through it. She found out that the hotel had several boutiques, a spa, a masseuse, and an indoor pool. Cecily would have loved to at least be allowed to go down to the pool, but she knew that Kirk would say no, plus she didn’t have a bathing suit anyway. She wrote a lengthy letter to Jackson, telling him everything, and all about her fabulous hotel suite. She finished the letter off by writing “wish you were here” and signed it “love” Cecily, since he had signed his “love” Jackson.

After that, she turned on the TV only to find that even in England, daytime TV sucked major balls.

“This blows,” she muttered as she took the remote and clicked the TV off. “What garbage! I hope Daddy finds me soon.”

With a heavy sigh, she flopped down into a comfy, plush, chair and grabbed some more hotel stationary and the pen and started to piss away her afternoon by writing a story. She wrote about a beautiful old lady named Miss Lavender, who was kind of based on her Great Aunt Josephine. The only difference was instead of living in a beautiful villa at a winery Miss Lavender lived in a cozy, little, cottage out in the countryside. She moved there to be by herself because her true love had been tragically separated from her by a mere misunderstanding, and it took two kids who discovered her cottage one day while they were playing in the meadow, to reunite them.

Writing managed to entertain Cecily for the entire afternoon, and even into the evening. At seven o’clock she finally put down her pen. Her hand was very, very, cramped, not to mention covered with ink smudges on the side of her pinky knuckle. She was also feeling very hungry. Kirk hadn’t been to see her or bring her any food at all. Again, here she was locked up in a room hungry. As Cecily read over her story she couldn’t help but feel a tad weak and maybe even light headed. A scary thought then occurred to her: she had no fainting medication. She was supposed to take it every morning when she got up. When she had snuck out of Miss Emily’s house she wasn’t planning on Kirk whisking her away for a few days. She had no medicine with her. If her blood pressure dropped she would have another fainting spell, and nothing to prevent it. What if she fainted and hours went by before Kirk came to check up on her? What if she fell and hit her head in the bathroom? What if she lay unconscious for so long that she slipped into a coma? Cecily shivered at the thought.

“I guess I should tell Mr. Kirk to bring me salty food,” Cecily mused. “I hate having low blood pressure. It’s probably another shitty thing that I inherited from my real, blood, father just like my fucking frizzy hair.”

Cecily was feeling very weak, and soon she fell fast asleep.

Meanwhile, Kirk burst into the lobby of the Four Seasons like a whirlwind. He knew that he had left Cecily alone all day, and that the poor little thing must be starving by now. He carried a Styrofoam box that contained that scrumptious chicken salad sandwich from the hotel bistro along with some pasta salad, some fresh fruit, and a few bottles of water. He had never dreamed that he wouldn’t be able to check up on Cecily, but Emily had kept him running about the entire day. Around eleven o’clock that morning, Kirk had gotten a frantic phone call from Emily wondering if he knew Cecily’s whereabouts, which of course he said that he didn’t. She had to go down to the police station to answer some questions, and Evan was out looking for Cecily himself, so she wanted Kirk to stay at her townhouse in case that Cecily showed up. Finally around eight o’clock that evening, Kirk was allowed to leave. He went straight back to the Four Seasons, well he did stop by a boutique to purchase himself a fabulous white satin top hat, but then he went back to the Four Seasons and ordered some food. Then he went up to Cecily’s suite. He knocked on the door.

“Codeword?” said Cecily’s voice from behind the closed door. Kirk had given Cecily a codeword that he would use whenever he came by. She was to open the door for no one, unless they knew the word.

“Cthulhu,” replied Kirk, and the door opened.

“Mr. Kirk!” cried Cecily as she happily greeted him. “I thought that you forgot all about me.”

“No Cecily,” Kirk sighed. “Emily has just had me at the house all day.” He handed her the Styrofoam box. “You must be famished by now.”

For an answer, Cecily grabbed the box, and plopped down on the floor with her legs crossed. Even though she had a beautiful sitting room of furniture, she preferred the floor. She began to immediately stuff the chicken salad sandwich into her mouth, not caring that it was mayonnaise based. Cecily despised mayonnaise and Cliff had spent half of his life scraping it off of sandwiches for her. But today she was just too fucking hungry for such petty shit. She devoured the sandwich and began to work on the pasta salad.

“Does Mom know that I’m gone yet?” Cecily asked in between bites.

“Oh does she ever,” Kirk replied. “Oh Cecily, this whole entire plan has been a disaster.”

Cecily stopped eating at once. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I’m afraid that it backfired,” said Kirk as he stared wistfully out the window at the twilight London skyline.

“Is Daddy not coming?” Cecily asked. There was disappointment in her voice.

“Oh no,” replied Kirk. “He’s well on his way. But I doubt that he’s going to take one look at Emily and fall right into her arms. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t punch her face in.”

“Huh?” Cecily replied stunned.

“I talked to him today,” Kirk went on as he started to rummage around her wet bar to make himself a drink. “Your mom made me watch the house while she and Evan went running about with the police looking for you.”

“They’ve called the police!” exclaimed Cecily.

Kirk nodded. “There’s a city wide search going on for you,” he answered. “Your picture was even on the evening news.”

“Fuck yeah!” said Cecily. “If only I was devastatingly beautiful. Then perhaps a powerful movie producer might see me on the news and ask me to do movies.”

“Cecily!” Kirk squealed. “How can you think about beauty at a time like this? Your parents are worried sick about you. Emily refuses to eat. I spent all afternoon slaving away in the kitchen like a barefoot pregnant woman only to have her tell me that she won’t eat until you’re back safely into her arms.”

“Momma,” Cecily murmured, guilt coming onto her face. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“And your dad has lost his mind,” Kirk went on. “For the entire time that I’ve known him, your father was always the one that I and the entire fucking band always looked up to for maturity and direction. Whenever we’d be freaking out over some gig or our band equipment being stolen, Cliff always knew how to take care of it. He was always laid back, always chill, always mellow. He was our rock. Well now he can hardly keep himself together. He’s inconsolable Cecily. The man is absolutely devastated. I actually wound up talking to his new girlfriend or whatever she is because he was too upset to speak to me.”

“That chick that he was banging is his girlfriend now?” Cecily asked, making a face.

“I’m not sure,” Kirk replied. “But she’s coming to London with him and it’s a good thing because I don’t know if he’d even be able to get himself on the plane. He’s a mess right now.”

“So my Dad is on his way over here,” said Cecily. “And he’s bringing some woman with him.”

“Afraid so,” Kirk nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think that he would take up with a girl this soon after dumping Clarisse.”

“You don’t know my dad,” murmured Cecily.

“It gets even worse,” said Kirk. “I talked to your dad during their layover in Atlanta and he blames Emily for everything. He’s planning on taking you back Cecily.”

“What!” Cecily gasped. “But the wedding.”

“He doesn’t care,” Kirk answered. “He told me that as soon as you’re found he’s taking you back with him on the first plane to California.”

“But I’m the maid of honor,” said Cecily.

“I tried to tell him that,” responded Kirk. “But he just made some smartass remark about me standing in as the maid of honor instead. He thinks that sending you over to London was a horrible mistake. But the real mistake was our plan Cecily. We really screwed things up.”

Cecily was silent. She stared at her empty Styrofoam box. Tears were brimming in her eyes.

“Don’t cry Cecily,” Kirk begged. “Please. You cry so much throughout Verity’s stories. You really do need to grow some balls.”

“I only wanted to make my parents fall in love again,” Cecily stammered through tears. “Not hate each other even more. And I’ve hurt them. I hurt them both. I can’t bear to think of my Mom not eating, and my Dad falling apart. I’ve never seen him cry.”

“He was crying Cecily,” replied Kirk. “Both your parents really love and care about you a lot.”

“Much more than Claudia ever did,” sighed Cecily. “When I went off to San Francisco she didn’t even call or anything, let alone jump on a plane to try and find me.”

“You’re with good people now,” Kirk told her. He put his arm around the crying girl. “You have good people in your life that love you.”

“I just want them to love each other,” sniffled Cecily as she leaned her head on Kirk’s shoulder. He always smelled so nice. Like clean air after a spring morning rain, with just the faintest, delicate, hint of pine. “I’m a horrible daughter,” she went on. “Horrible for putting them through all this pain and upset. I don’t deserve such loving parents.”

“You’re not a horrible daughter,” Kirk replied as he smoothed out her hair. “Remember that you’re the first kid that Cliff Burton ever liked. Before you came into his life, he used to try and run over little kids with his car just for kicks. You’re a very good daughter Cecily. You’re just trying to get your parents back together, and I agree that Cliff and Emily belong together. It’s just that our plan might not work as smoothly as we first intended it to.”

“It might never work at all,” sobbed Cecily. “All of this money spent on this beautiful room, and Daddy buying plane tickets to London all for nothing.”

“Well Bob Rock is paying for the room,” Kirk reminded her. “And your Dad and his new chickie each get a trip to England out of it.” He squeezed her hand. “Everyone is just really frantic right now. Give it some time. Give your Dad some time to get his ass over here, and see Emily again. Maybe seeing her again will rekindle some old feelings.”

“That would be my dream Mr. Kirk,” Cecily sighed. “But I can only wish...”
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Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Oh shit, they are in big trouble :( Don't blame Cliff for being mad, I would be too if she were my daughter. And I like the namecheck :wink
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Shayi
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Good lordy - this is a pretty kettle of fish!

(And sure, if you ever need help - no probs!) Although grey - drizzly - no good daytime T.V. - I'd say you'd got it down ;)

Damn Cecily's bath sounded heavenly - that's what I'm after at the moment :) A massive bath you could practically swim in and enough bubbles to drown a moose!

What an absolute disaster this appears to be turning into - although of course, it was never going to be easy or perfect! But Cheyenne seems like although she is an extremely hot airhead - is also a rather useful chicky to have around! And I'm sure that once she meets Mr Kirk in London she's going to go absolutely wild :) (Not that I blame her for that, naturally).

Before you came into his life, he used to try and run over little kids with his car just for kicks.

Probably I shouldn't laugh about that - oh hell, yeah I should. That line was absolutely hilarious! I could just imagine a rather manic Cliff behind the wheel heading down the street trying to play kid bowling!

Fabulous couple of chapters that despite the drama still had me laughing. You rock :)
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“Fuck yeah!” said Cecily. “If only I was devastatingly beautiful. Then perhaps a powerful movie producer might see me on the news and ask me to do movies.” :lol: I loved that!
But.. Uh oh... Kirk and Cecily are in trouble... :blink: I really feel sorry for Emily and Cliff...And I'm worried how will they react when the truth about Cecily's missing will come out... :wacko:
And I agree with Shayi, the line about Cliff running kids was hilarious, hahahaha :lol: Though I feel a little bad for laughing at that :unsure: ( :lol: )
:heart: :horns2
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Verity
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Here's a quick chapter before I dash out for a while. I stayed up very late last night, I'm not sure why since I had to be up by 6 today. :wacko:


Shayi- Kid bowling? I love it. :lol: And if England is grey, drizzly, and has bad daytime TV it sounds just like Louisiana in January. :wink

Vanessa- Yeah, Kirk is setting himself up to get his ass kicked for his little plan isn't he? :wink

Maggie- Don't worry about laughing about the running over kid thing. I did too. :lol:



Chapter Seventy-Six


“I can’t fucking believe this,” Cliff groaned as their plane taxied into its gate in London after one hell of a long ass plane ride. “My little girl is lost. She’s lost in a big, foreign, and unfamiliar city. How could Emily let this happen? ”

“I’m sure that Emily feels just as bad as you do,” said Cheyenne as she sprang up from her seat and began to get their bags out of the overhead compartment.

“She should feel worse,” Cliff quipped. “This is all her fucking fault.” He sighed as he stuffed Whiskey back into his bag. Having Whiskey with him brought him comfort, comfort that his Cecily would soon be found.

It was now eleven o’clock at night London time. Cliff and Cheyenne were jetlagged, hungry, sick with worry, and worn. Cliff felt worn down right to his soul. It had been just an abysmal day. At least they were off of that wretched plane, just being in London made him immediately feel closer to Cecily. He was also stoked to be off of the plane because he could smoke again. After eight hours, he definitely needed a cigarette. He lit one up as soon as they disembarked off of the plane.

Cheyenne and Cliff had done nothing about arranging for a hotel room. Getting to London to join the search party had been their top priority. They caught a cab to Emily’s townhouse, where they made their way to the front door.

“This place seems so nice,” Cheyenne gushed as she grabbed her suitcase out of the taxi.

“Humph!” Cliff snorted. “You haven’t seen my house yet. This dump can’t hold a candle to it. I have a huge deck with a view of the hills. Emily ain’t got no deck.”

“No, but she has a shoe boutique that’s just down the block,” answered Cheyenne. She struggled with her heavy suitcase that was crammed full with nothing except various Metallica clothes.

“Blondes,” Cliff sniffed as he rolled his eyes at Cheyenne, and took her heavy suitcase for her. He made his way up to the front stoop of Emily’s town home as if he owned the place. He didn’t even bother to knock. He let himself in through the front door. The police were there milling about, so it was left open. Evan and Emily were nowhere around.

“Are you Cliff Burton?” one of the police dudes snapped at him.

“I am,” Cliff nodded.

“Not only is he Cliff Burton,” put in Cheyenne, eyes shining. “But he’s Cliff Burton from Metallica.

“Ah yes!” exclaimed the police dude. “The Enter Sandman guys. You guys totally rock.”

“Um thanks,” Cliff mumbled. “But you see I didn’t play on that album. I produce now.”

However the police dude was drowning Cliff out. His eyes were fixed totally on Cheyenne and her blissful, perky, tits that were sprouting up quite nicely from under a tight purple Metallica T-shirt.

“And who is this pretty lass?” he asked, as he took Cheyenne’s hand and kissed it.

“Hey!” Cliff squawked. “She’s my friend!” He frowned at the police dude. “Instead of hitting on my girl you should be off trying to find my daughter.”

“Oh yes,” nodded the police dude, being pulled away from flying fantasies of hot, oozing, sex. “We need to ask you a few questions Mr. Burton.”

“What the fuck for?” Cliff snapped as he lit up another cigarette. He gave a quick glance around Emily’s living room. Damn. There was girly shit all over the place. Dried flowers, and pillows, and little candy dishes and shit. All dust catchers in Cliff’s opinion.

“While questioning your ex,” answered the police dude. “We found out that earlier the same evening that Cecily disappeared, you two had a dispute over her spending the holidays in Switzerland.”

“Damn right,” nodded Cliff as he picked up one of Emily’s hand painted candy dishes to use as an ashtray.

“She said that it got quite ugly,” said the police dude. “You didn’t try and kidnap her back or anything. Did you?”

Cliff nearly choked on his cigarette. “You have got to be fucking kidding me! My daughter could be out under the London Bridge getting the snatch raped out of her, and the best that you can do is think that I took her?”

“Its standard procedure,” the police dude shrugged, and gave Cheyenne a smile. Cheyenne had been ignoring them, instead looking about Emily’s tranquil living room that was decorated in shades of ivories, light pinks, and pale sage greens. It was almost like being inside of an Easter basket.

“Just why in the Sam hell would I kidnap my daughter?” Cliff asked. “Her mother appointed me as her legal guardian. I have all legal rights to the girl. I don’t have to kidnap her. It’s Emily who has no legal ties to her.”

“I did not know that Mr. Burton,” the police dude replied. “I guess I’m a little confused. Who are Cecily’s parents exactly?”

“I am,” said Cliff. He blew a wad of smoke into the air.

“You just mentioned something about her mother appointing you as her legal guardian,” said the police dude. “Are you Cecily’s father, or are you her legal guardian?”

“I’m both,” answered Cliff.

“You can’t be both,” said the police dude. “Is she your biological daughter?”

“No,” Cliff replied, shaking his head. “But I’m still her dad. I take care of her. I’m the one who fucking sat by her bed all day and all night while she was in the hospital. I’m the one who stood in line for three fucking hours on Christmas Eve just to buy her some ugly-as-fuck doll.”

“I see your point Mr. Burton,” replied the police dude. “But in the eyes of the law you are her legal guardian, not her father.”

“But I adopted her,” Cliff argued.

“Did you, or did her mother just appoint you as a guardian?” the police dude asked.

Cliff looked into the cloud of smoke that was trickling up from his cigarette. “She signed away her rights as a parent and appointed me,” he said finally.

“Then you didn’t legally adopt her,” said the police dude. “But you are her guardian. You have all the say about her care, and any decisions regarding her. Once she is found she will be immediately returned to you. But you didn’t legally adopt her so to say that she’s your daughter would be incorrect.”

“That’s some serious bullshit!” snapped Cliff as he took a drag on the cigarette for comfort. “What the fuck is the matter with you people?”

“What you did Mr. Burton by taking the girl in was very kind and noble,” the police dude went on. “We need more people like you in the world. You’re a first rate citizen.”

“Ha!” Cliff laughed. “I hate to break it to you Mister, but back home in Uncle Sam land I have a suspended driver’s license in the state of Nevada, and a bench warrant out for my arrest for unpaid speeding tickets in the state of Arizona, and maybe in Wisconsin too. Ah fuck. I don’t remember. Then I had the IRS try and book me for unpaid taxes. The fuckers! It was right after Metallica finally made a bit of money from our third album. I didn’t claim some of it and President Reagan had those little fuckers standing right on my door step in a heat beat. They fucked me up into the ass with fines and shit. There went all the money that I made from Master of Puppets.

“That’s brutal Man,” said the police dude.

“It was President Reagan,” Cliff bumbled as he took a thoughtful drag on the cigarette. “That fucker has always had it in for me, from the moment that he took office.”

“Damn,” whistled the police dude. “I can’t believe that the girl’s mother would give someone like you full custody of her daughter.”

“You haven’t met Claudia,” returned Cliff as he grounded out his cigarette, and immediately reached for another one. “The woman is a flat out whore. She never gave two shits about her daughter.”

The police dude looked thoughtful as he gazed longingly at Cheyenne’s ass. Cheyenne was now sitting quietly on the sofa looking through a beautiful coffee table picture book of Emily’s of world famous gardens.

“Where does this Claudia live?” he asked finally.

“Denmark,” Cliff replied as he puffed away on his cigarette.

“Is she involved with Cecily’s life?” asked the police dude.

“Not unless you call finally writing her a letter asking her for money after six years of writing nothing at all to her involved with her life,” answered Cliff.

“Did she know that Cecily was going to be in Europe at this time?” said the police dude.

Cliff bit his bottom lip. Cecily had written back to Claudia. It was possible. “I think so,” he murmured. “But none of this bullshit is relevant. You should be out scouring the streets for my daughter, not asking about her slut bag ho mother!”

“The reason Mr. Burton,” continued the police dude. “That I’m asking about Cecily’s mother is because has it ever occurred to you that maybe Cecily went off to go find her mother in Denmark?”

Cliff coughed, as he swallowed a cloud of smoke by accident. “That’s complete fucking bullshit!” he exclaimed. “Cecily may have written to her mother one time because she was upset, but she wanted nothing to do with that fucking woman! She would never just take up and leave to go find her.”

“Are you sure about that?” said the police dude. “You said that she wrote to her one time after being upset. I’m sure that the fight that you had the night that Cecily disappeared with your ex wife made her rather upset as well. Maybe she wanted to go where there wasn’t any fighting.”

“So she’d go back to the mother who treated her like crap for five years?” Cliff shot. “And Emily is not my ex wife!”

The police dude’s eyes went wide. “Really?” he mused. “She said that she’s lived with Cecily for six years.”

“She was never my wife,” Cliff snarled bitterly. Not liking the thought of Cecily running off to Claudia at all.

“Damn,” the police dude whistled. “You lived with a chick as hot as Emily for six years and you never married her? If I was bagging puss that hot I would have married her in a heartbeat.” His eyes wandered back over to Cheyenne.

“Just shut the fuck up and do your job!” Cliff demanded testily.

Just then, they heard a car door slam. Cheyenne moseyed over to the living room window and peered out through the curtain. “Oooh!” she exclaimed.

“And just what are you oohing about?” Cliff snapped as he too made his way over to the window. He pushed back the gauzy, ivory, curtain to see just what Cheyenne was “oohing” over.

Evan Fitzgerald had just gotten out of the driver’s seat of his Audi. He made his way over to the passenger side to open the door for Emily. Cliff’s heart sank. He had pictured Evan as being a wormy and weasely sort who was short and bowlegged with round, thick, spectacles. Yeah, Cecily had claimed that he was dashingly handsome, but she also thought that Kirk was dashingly handsome too. Cliff thought that Kirk was a lot of things, but not handsome. However, Evan was definitely handsome, and even Cliff had to admit it. He could see a tiny little line of drool practically foaming from the corner of Cheyenne’s mouth. Obviously she thought that Evan Fitzgerald was handsome too. Didn’t anyone not find him God’s gift to women?

Cliff knew that he was going to see Emily once he got to England, but nothing had prepared him for the surge of emotion that he felt upon seeing her climb out of the car. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, and a plain mauve colored sweatshirt, with a stunning black leather jacket thrown over it. Cliff always had liked it when Emily wore that leather jacket. He had ripped it off of her in the throws of passion countless times. She had never gotten around to really brushing her hair that day. It had dried in mass frizzy clumps around her head, but she had her reading glasses perched stylishly on top of her head like a headband. Cliff always found Emily sexy whenever she’d wear her reading glasses. They made her appear smart and very sophisticated. The fact that they were perched on top of her head meant that she had been wearing them on and off throughout the day. In her arms, she was carrying a small dog.

This had been the first time that Cliff had seen her since she had left him seven months ago. England and Evan had been good to her. Even half spazzed out with her hair un brushed Cliff thought that she looked absolutely beautiful, and he couldn’t help but admit that still, he did carry a torch for Emily. That torch was soon about to be put out as Evan came around to her and took her in his arms. It was apparent that Emily had been crying. He gently lifted her face up to his and gingerly dabbed her tears away with his handkerchief. Then he affectionately pressed his lips to hers. Not noticing that there were people watching from the window.

“Damn,” the police dude sighed to Cliff. “This has got to be awkward for you.”

“Fuck off ass chunk!” Cliff sneered at the police dude.

“That isn’t any way to talk to your local law enforcement!” the police dude scoffed.

“Newsflash bobby!” Cliff snapped. “I ain’t from motherfucking England! You’re not my local law enforcement.” He glanced out the window at Evan and Emily embracing once again. “I’m so over her,” he bragged. “Emily is so fucking out of my life. I don’t give a flying fuck if he decides to fuck her right in the middle of the driveway.”

“I sure do,” replied the police dude, growing horny at the thought. He gave Cheyenne a naughty grin, but she frowned and looked away.

Evan and Emily made their way to the house. Evan didn’t even realize that there were visitors in the living room. He went straight to the kitchen.

“Emily Dearest,” he said as she stood in the parlor and slipped off her coat. “You really should eat something.”

“I can’t eat,” Emily returned. “I’m in the depths of despair.”

“You need to keep up your strength,” Evan argued from the kitchen. “You need your strength so that you can find Cecily.”

“How in the hell can you think about food at a time like this?” Emily sighed as she kicked off her shoes, and made her way into the living room. “Now what I could use is a cigarette.”

“I think that can be arranged,” said a voice coming from over by the living room windows.

Emily whirled around to see Cliff Burton in his nastiest and most tattered pair of denim bellbottoms standing by the window, holding out a pack of cigarettes towards her…






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Lucifer's Angel
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So Cliff still loves Emily :heart: That police dude was funny, though, scoping out Cheyenne :wink Damn, the shit has hit the fan :( Kirk and Cecily are in biiiig trouble now :o
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Shayi
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“It was President Reagan,” Cliff bumbled as he took a thoughtful drag on the cigarette. “That fucker has always had it in for me, from the moment that he took office.”

Oh man oh man I laughed so hard at that bit. President Reagan takes a good ol' beating in this set of fics, and it's downright hilarious :)

My other favourite phrase from this is probably Cecily and Emily saying they are 'in the depths of despair'. Did Cecily get it from Emily, or Emily from Cecily? I'd say the latter!

This chapter was most excellent! I really could picture Emily's living room, I love it when you describe the place that they're in, it makes it so easy to imagine it and totally get the feeling of the place.

And your horny policeman! Jesus he was absolutely hilarious! The whole dialogue between he and Cliff was absolutely superbly done. And the way that he kept glancing over at Cheyenne and trying not-so-subtly to pull her at the same time as arguing/discussing with the dude who he should assume is Cheyenne's boyfriend! The whole thing was absolutely marvellous!

This chapter was absolutely excellent - especially when Cliff sees Evan and realises that for real the dude is devastatingly handsome! Heh!

Fabulous, fabulous chapter!
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Simone
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Wow...in 2 days I read 3 pages and couldn't help but be amazed at what Cess and Ham Man did...This story kicks maaaaaajor ass!!!!! :horns: Cliff and Emily? Reunited they'll fall for each other again! :nanner: And maybe Cheyenne will get Evan and everyone will be happy :D

My internet was broken for more than a week! And that's why I didn't read this...but now I'm back :cool I don't know what I'm going to do when this story will end...I guess I'll cry :( and hope for another one :P

Another Sequel : 'Bride of The Year' where Cess gets married with Jackson :heart: Ohh that would be lovely! :D
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Verity
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Simone- Glad to have you back!!! I hate it when my internet goes down. It hasn't for a long period of time, but it does go out at least twice a day briefly. Anyway, this story still has shit loads to go. The ending is still very very far away I'm afraid.



Shayi- Thank you so so so much! :) I don't know why I'm picking on poor President Reagan either. He wasn't that bad of a dude at all. I'm glad that you like my police dude. My brother in law is a cop so I can poke fun at them!

Vanessa- I think that Kirk is going to have a lot of explaining to do soon.





Chapter Seventy-Seven


“Why hello Cliff,” Emily said haughtily as she gave him a cursory glance.

“Hello Emily,” Cliff returned with the same amount of distance in his voice. He shook the pack of cigarettes at her. “You want one or not?”

Emily reluctantly took a cigarette out of the package. “It’s not going to blow up on me or anything?” she asked.

“Fuck you,” Cliff snarled as he chucked his lighter over towards her. He frowned at Queen Victoria. “That sure is one ugly dog,” he commented.

“Oh?” shot Emily as she hugged the dog close. “And Geezer is the grand hunk of the dog world?”

She gave Cliff a look that could freeze water in July and lit her cigarette. Cliff was staring at her. “What?” she demanded. “You have a problem or something?”

“No,” replied Cliff as he lit a cigarette for himself, still staring at Emily in amusement. Emily had no idea just what was so fucking funny.

“What?” she demanded again. “Quit staring at me!”

“I think that he’s staring at your boobs miss,” mumbled the police dude.

“Oh shut up you fucking toadstool!” Emily barked at the police dude.

“Toadstool?” Cliff repeated, as he broke out into laughter. “Toadstool is the best that you can do Emily?”

“Fuck you Clifford Lee!” Emily shot back, flipping him off.

“Are you ever going to smoke that cigarette?” Cliff asked as he pointed to the cigarette that Emily was delicately holding. She had yet to take a puff on it. “You know that wasting a good cigarette is just like killing a mockingbird,” he went on.

“In a minute I will!” Emily replied tersely. “Don’t rush me.”

“It’s just smoking a cigarette,” Cliff quibbled. “It ain’t exactly brain surgery.”

“I don’t even understand why you have to be here anyway!” Emily yelled.

“I’m here because you can’t keep proper track of my daughter,” Cliff answered in superior tone. “I should never have trusted you.”

“Ouch!” murmured the police dude.

Emily rolled her eyes at them, and then turned so that her back was to Cliff. She had only been back around him for three minutes, and already he was grating on her nerves like strychnine. She couldn’t believe that only last night she had claimed to Cecily that she still loved him. Had she been drinking? She eyed her cigarette.

In all honesty, she didn’t smoke. She had only been joking when she had made that comment about wanting a cigarette in the first place. She didn’t even have any idea what to do with the fucking thing, and now she had Cliff watching her like a hawk, ready to laugh at her, ready to ridicule. She took a deep breath as she brought the foul tasting thing to her lips. She sucked on it, trying to inhale it, only she ended up swallowing a thick trail of smoke. It singed her mouth and throat and even went up into her nose. Emily began to cough and choke immediately. She gagged and ran to the kitchen to get a cup of water.

She could hear Cliff laughing like a pompous ass from the living room.

“Emily Dearest,” said Evan as he watched Emily gasping for water as she rinsed out her mouth. “What’s the matter?”

“Cliff is here,” Emily growled. “Oh Evan darling I hate him so much. I know that he’s here to help find Cecily, but why does he have to be here? Can’t he stay with Kirk over at the Four Seasons? He’s not crashing here Evan. I will not allow it.”

Evan didn’t argue with Emily on that one. He didn’t really want Emily’s ex flame of six years staying at their house either.

“He has some titty slut with him too,” Emily went on as she drank more water. “Lord knows where he picked her up.”

Evan gave Emily a quick kiss. “We should probably offer them something to eat,” he mused. “It’s only cordial of us to.”

“Cliff can fucking starve for all that I care,” shot Emily bitterly. “I’m so sorry Evan, but I’ve been through just too much today. I can’t take anymore of that horrid, wretched, man. Could you please deal with him?”

“I don’t know what to say to him,” Evan bumbled.

“Just tell him to go blow himself,” snarled Emily.

“What!” Evan yelped, his face growing scarlet at the thought of saying something so crass.

Nevertheless, he made his way to the living room holding a plate of mini sandwiches that a kind neighbor lady had brought over for the search party. Emily hovered over by the living room door.

Evan nearly dropped the platter of sandwiches upon entering the living room and seeing Cliff. This was the infamous Cliff Burton, the man who had taken his Emily on an emotional rollercoaster ride for six years? He wasn’t anything like Evan had pictured him to be.

Evan knew that Cliff was a heavy metal bassist, and for some reason he had pictured him to look a lot like Jon Bon Jovi or someone along those lines, but he was quite the opposite. He had very long, brownish, hair that was in desperate need of getting the split ends trimmed off. Evan wasn’t sure who had the longer hair: Cliff, Cecily, or Emily?

He was smoking a cigarette, and using the candy dish that Evan’s mother had given them as an ashtray. Oh well, it was an ugly candy dish anyway. Evan was also rather amazed by Cliff’s clothes. He hadn’t seen a denim jacket like that since at least 1976. Sadly though, Cliff seemed to be just the slightest hair taller than he was.

“You must be Cliff,” Evan stammered as he came into the room.

Cliff nodded, blowing out an array of smoke into the air. “Are you Evan Fitz-rat-cunt?” he asked.

“It’s Fitzgerald,” corrected Evan as he set the tray of mini sandwiches down on the coffee table. Cliff eyed the tray. He was hungrier than a rabid dog after banging a street whore.

“What’s with the midget food?” Cliff demanded as he pointed to the sandwiches.

“They’re finger sandwiches,” replied Evan. “You must try the carrot raisin one. It’s quite tasty. The ghost cheese one is also most excellent.”

“Do I look like I eat fucking goat cheese to you?” Cliff snapped.

“I don’t know,” Evan stammered. “Your little friend Kirk Hammett loved them when he was here earlier. He seemed to like the smoked salmon on pumpernickel.”

“That’s because he is a pumpernickel,” Cliff quipped sullenly. He went back to his cigarette.

“I’ll try one,” said Cheyenne gladly as she made her way over to the coffee table and plunked down on the edge of the sofa. She took Evan’s advice and selected a carrot and raisin sandwich, and took a bite.

“Oooh Cliff,” she squealed. “It’s delicious.”

“As delicious as Brunhilda’s cheese ball?” Cliff sarcastically replied.

Cheyenne looked thoughtful as she helped herself to an egg salad sandwich and took a bite. “Maybe,” she replied. “Come and try one Cliffy,” she coaxed. “I’ll even feed it to you. It’s been a dream of mine to hand feed a member of Metallica.”

The police dude was over to the sofa in a heartbeat. “You can feed me,” he said as he sat right down on the sofa next to Cheyenne.

“Were you in Metallica at some point?” Cheyenne asked, frowning at him.

“No,” the police dude answered. “But I am a real, genuine, British bobby. I have the helmet and everything.”

“Hey bobby!” Cliff snarled at the police dude. “Why don’t you take your little helmet and go bobble out of here?”

Cliff was not too pleased with having some British police dude ogling his woman, and he was being so fucking obvious about it. It was annoying. Even though he had no emotional attachment to Cheyenne she was still accompanying him. The police dude hadn’t been the only one to notice Cheyenne. Evan was quite surprised by her as well. He was expecting some really trashy looking thing that was barely dressed, but Cheyenne was just in jeans and a T-shirt, even if they were rather tight and form fitting jeans and a T-shirt. Granted, any woman who bed hops between various Metallica bassists, was kind of trashy, but Cheyenne wasn’t screaming with trashiness. She had on dangly lightning bolt earrings reminiscent of Ride the Lightning and a black and silver Metallica baseball cap. Her long blonde waves hung down from under it all the way down her back.

“I would get out of here,” the police dude continued. “But I’m trying to find your ward Mr. Burton.”

Cliff cringed at the thought that the police dude was correct. Cecily was his ward not his daughter. It felt and sounded very strange. The police dude continued on

“Was Cecily involved in any gang related activities?” he asked. “Maybe she was into illegal substances. You know pot, cocaine, smack.”

“I know very well illegal substances are!” retorted Cliff.

“You would,” quipped Evan.

The police dude ignored them.

“You wouldn’t believe what great lengths people go through to get these things. They even run away,” he lectured.

“She’s a fucking twelve-year-old girl!” Cliff roared, near biting off the police dude’s head. “She spent her days painting little pictures with a half deaf arthritic dog who has a skin disease, and pretending that she was The Lady of Shalott! She’s not into drugs!”

“I love the Lady of Shalott!” gasped the police dude. “I adore reading Tennyson.” He winked at Cheyenne who was busy trying to choose which finger sandwich she wanted next. “You know,” he babbled on. “Having a daughter going off to find drugs isn’t that bad. Look on the bright side. Terry Riley went out searching for drugs and found minimalism.”

Cliff, Evan, and Cheyenne just stared at him as if he were some sort of circus freak. The police dude picked up a finger sandwich and stuffed it into his mouth.

“I guess you like the “she went to go find her birthmother” scenario better,” he said with his mouth full.

“Quite frankly,” said Cliff as he put out his cigarette. “I think that both scenarios are a bunch of bunk. But I don’t know. Maybe she went to find her mom. I think that she had some abandonment issues.”

“Do you have the mother’s address?” the police dude asked.

“Not with me,” Cliff admitted. “She’s not exactly my favorite person in the world but I can call my housekeeper Hildegarde, and she can look it up for me. It’s still on the envelope from that one letter she sent. I don’t know if she still lives there though. I have a feeling that she’s moved around a lot.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” said the police dude. “You have to go to her. You must go find her in Denmark…”












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Shayi
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Oh my good golly! What a cliffhanger to leave this fucker on! Go off to Denmark again... hehe oh man :)

Where to start? First up your policeman is superb. Absolutely fantastic cameo character - not only is he funny, but there is still depth to him by you managing to add in his likes (Lady of Shalott) and the way that he reacts to the different people in the room. I think that he is wonderful!

This chapter was just so hilarious - you are an absolute master at dialogue, I take my hat off to you!

“No,” the police dude answered. “But I am a real, genuine, British bobby. I have the helmet and everything.”

“Hey bobby!” Cliff snarled at the police dude. “Why don’t you take your little helmet and go bobble out of here?”


That part made me laugh like a drain. Awesomeness :)

And Evan's first impressions of Cliff were beautifully done - what he thought he was going to be like and then what he really was like, and the parting shot at the end of the paragraph about him being just a hair taller, that was wonderfully done.

I love this story so much - I have to say I'm more than happy for it just to keep on running and running :) Your comedic timing, your dialogue, your characters whether main or just bit parts are all superbly drawn and it all makes for a most excellent story :)
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Lucifer's Angel
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I like the bobby, he's cool :) And man, the shit has hit the fan. Poor Kirk and Cecily, they are in real big trouble now :( I liked how Evan thought that Cliff might look like Bon Jovi, yeah right :lol: And that he hadn't seen a denim jacket like that since 1976. Cliff does dress like something out of that 70's show, doesn't he? :wink
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