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| Daughter of the Year; Ze Sequel to Father of the Year | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: December 14, 2007, 12:15 am (11,143 Views) | |
| Lucifer's Angel | February 3, 2008, 3:27 pm Post #286 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Hmm, is something going to happen with Cheyenne and Evan? And boy are Cliff and Emily going to be sick tomorrow, I can't drink as much as they do, I'd feel really sick. And Mrs. Fitzgerald is a cunt
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| Shayi | February 4, 2008, 5:19 am Post #287 |
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Bring me that horizon
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Wow. Damn. So much has happened - so much to catch up on! Before I forget:- “Cheerio Mate,” Hallelujah! I have never ever seen anyone use the word 'cheerio' in a story and now you have. Absolutely spanktastically awesome That now over... Emily and Cliff on the plane was absolutely hilarious! Honestly, I swear they cause more trouble than my two younger brothers on a flight! But it was excellently done, I loved the whole 'oneupmanship' thing they had going on there; so beautifully petty! I do love Cheyenne, she's such a lovely girl, and it's so so nice to see that Evan is taking the time to hang out with her there, get to know her. Mind you - by the time Emily re-appears, will he have succumbed to the many charms of Cheyenne I wonder? I wouldn't blame him if he did mind... and it would probably be good for her, taking her mind off Metallica for a while! (And all that talk of pancakes reminded me that it's pancake day soon, rock on!) And I absolutely adored the scene between Aunt Josephine and Newsted (who does grate on my nerves self important little sod bag!). Good to know that as always, Cliff is her favourite nephew!! Fantastic story - it's one of those epics that I'm going to be so so sad when it eventually does finish (I'm damn glad it's a long one!) |
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| Battery | February 4, 2008, 9:34 am Post #288 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Well...... I fully agree!! The scene with Emily and Cliff on the plane was awesome I loved when Cliff was chucking balls from paper on Emily, kind of immature but very sweet “I have a sick fetish too,” volunteered Cheyenne. “I really, really, want to suck the very tips of James Hetfield’s toes, and lick my tongue in between them like a kitten. Even if it were just for a millisecond, I’d be in heaven.” and that made my day Cheyenne is pure fun character :horns2 And she gets along with Evan quite well.... :horns2
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| Verity | February 4, 2008, 11:12 am Post #289 |
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The Story Girl
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Shayi- Thanks! I'm glad that it's pancake day soon. And I'm glad you like Cheerio, a fantastic word. Vanessa- I can't drink as much as they do either. 2 drinks is my limit for feeling functional the next day. I hope that I remember that tonight. Maggie- I like Cheyenne too. She is very much fun to write because she's so silly, but a good silly. I'm going into New Orleans this afternoon and tomorrow for Mardi Gras so I might not get to update this for a couple days. I'm very excited. This is a hard earned and much needed little mini vacation for me. Chapter Eighty-Three “This is it,” announced the taxi man dude as he pulled the taxi up in front of a gray, gloomy, building that was in a rather seedy section of town. Emily was quite thankful that the painstaking taxi ride was over, but she was not happy with where they were. It just had to be a mistake. There was no way in hell that Cecily would leave her comfortable room at her London townhouse where she even had her own fucking fireplace to go live in a dingy apartment with a whore like Claudia. Half of the windows on the building were either broken, duct taped together, or had plastic wrap in them in place of glass. Some windows were even boarded up. Emily couldn’t help but shiver. She didn’t even notice Cliff come around and open her car door for her. She didn’t think anything of it as she climbed out of the car. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Cliff asked, as he lit up a cigarette. “There is no way that Cecily would stay here. She’s fucking used to my house in the hills, and Aunt Jo’s villa, and our fucking house right on the beach. She ain’t going to stay at a place like this.” “Maybe not,” agreed Emily as she paid the taxi man. “But Claudia might know something about where she is. We came all this way.” And she was right. The drive to Odense had been hellish. Cliff and Emily had started out both in the backseat of the taxi, but their bickering had just gotten to be just too much for the taxi man, and he pulled the car over, and made Emily sit in the front with him, banishing Cliff alone in the back. At least they both had sobered up somewhat, even if they both smelled like a distillery. “You have the apartment number?” Emily asked. Cliff pulled out a slip of paper. “Apartment thirty,” he replied. The two walked around to the side of the building. All the apartment entrances were exterior, and the ones on the ground level even had a small stoop. That was probably the nicest thing about them. Apartment thirty was on the ground level. Cliff walked right up and banged on the door. One of the windows was boarded up, and there was an ugly dead plant on the front porch stoop. No answer. “She ain’t here,” Cliff announced. He tried to peer in a window, but he could see nothing. There certainly wasn’t any sign of Cecily. There wasn’t any sign of anyone for that matter. “No really?” Emily shot sarcastically. She sat down on the stoop. “She’s got to come home at some point.” Cliff and Emily waited in silence for a few minutes. Cliff ignored Emily, and mainly just focused on working his way through another pack of cigarettes. Emily was in pure hell. Cecily was missing, and she was stuck with Cliff. Not only was she stuck with Cliff, but she was stuck with him in a questionable neighborhood. Life was pretty sucky. They waited for a good half hour, but still no sign of Claudia. However, a neighbor lady came up the walk of the apartment that was next to them. She eyed Cliff and Emily suspiciously. She could tell right away that they weren’t from around the neighborhood, especially the lady. She was much too nicely dressed. “Excuse me,” Emily called as she waved at the neighbor. “Do you know by any chance when Claudia will be back?” The neighbor frowned. “Claudia?” she repeated. “She don’t live there no more.” “What do you mean she doesn’t live here anymore?” demanded an irritated Cliff. “I came all the way from motherfucking England, actually motherfucking California to speak with her. Where the fuck is she?” “She don’t live there anymore,” the neighbor replied. “She got evicted. Didn’t pay her rent.” “Well this is sure a fine kettle of fish!” Cliff snapped as he threw himself down on the porch stoop and put his head in his hands. “All of this fucking spending money, and jet setting around the world, all for nothing!” Emily tried a more calm approach to things. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out Cecily’s latest school picture. She handed it to the neighbor lady. “Have you seen this girl?” she asked. The neighbor studied the picture. She shook her head. “She’s missing,” Emily explained. “And she means the world to us. We’re desperately trying to find her.” “There hasn’t been any girl who looks like that around here,” answered the neighbor. “Why would a girl that nicely dressed be hanging around here?” Emily had to blush when the lady said “nicely dressed.” She had picked out that outfit for Cecily herself. “Claudia is her mother,” Emily went on. “We thought that maybe she went to go see her.” The neighbor lady’s eyes widened. “Claudia has a daughter?” she asked. “I know that she has a little son, and another baby due very soon, but she never mentioned having a daughter.” “That bitch has completely erased Cecily out of her life,” Cliff muttered bitterly. “Except for when she needs money.” “Maybe you have the wrong person?” suggested the neighbor woman. “I’ve talked to Claudia quite a bit, and she never mentioned a daughter.” “No,” said Emily. “We have the right person. Do you by any chance know when she moved, or where she might have moved to?” The lady nodded. “She moved about two months ago,” she answered. “She said that she was going back to Copenhagen. Things were really bad for her. Her boyfriend, and little boy’s father was in jail, I’m not quite sure for what.” “Do you know where in Copenhagen she moved to?” Emily asked. The lady shook her head. “There was a little bakery that she was going to go work at,” she replied. “I have often wondered what happened to her. I hope that she’s doing okay. She’s been so down on her luck, and she has that little boy of hers, and another one on the way.” “Last thing that she needs,” Cliff quipped. “That woman needs to be spade like a dog. Come on Emily. Let’s get the fuck out of here. All that we’ve done is waste time and money.” He started to walk away. Emily graciously thanked the neighbor lady for her help and then hurried to catch up with Cliff. “We didn’t necessarily waste a bunch of money,” said Emily. “Did we find Cecily?” Cliff spat. “Did we find Claudia? No! All that we’ve done is frolic around Denmark like a couple of goonies.” “Hey, that was a good movie,” said Emily. “Yeah it was,” Cliff agreed. “Look,” said Emily. “I know that we wasted a shit load of time coming all the way to bumfuck Odense, but we can still go to Copenhagen and look for Claudia there.” “Get your head out of your ass Emily!” Cliff exclaimed. “We aren’t going to be able to find Claudia in Copenhagen. What the fuck are we supposed to do? Knock on the door of every fucking bakery in town?” “Well we could call them first,” replied Emily, as she climbed back into the taxicab. “I have to deal with you two again already?” the taxi man sighed, as Cliff climbed into the backseat. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t have time to sit around in Copenhagen thumping my dick,” Cliff scoffed. “I’m going back to England.” “Fine,” returned Emily. “I’m staying in Copenhagen until I talk to Claudia. If we never speak to her, and we never find Cecily, I’m always going to wonder “what if.” I’m not going to fail Cecily.” Cliff glumly stared out the window, wishing that the taxi man would let him smoke in the cab. It was going to be a long fucking trip back to Copenhagen. “I’ll do better finding Claudia if I work by myself anyway,” added Emily. “I like working alone.” “I’m not going to leave you in fucking Denmark by yourself,” Cliff sighed. “I don’t need you and Cecily both missing.” “Why?” said Emily. “You hate me anyway.” “Enough you two!” cut in the taxi man. Everyone was silent for the rest of the duration of the trip. It was nearly six o’clock in the evening when Cliff and Emily made it back to Copenhagen. Their flight back to England was supposed to leave at seven, but because they were staying in Copenhagen, they would have to change the ticket. Instead, they needed to find a place to stay for the night. The bakeries were all closed anyway, and there would be nothing that they could do to try and find Claudia before the next day. They walked down the street, both being cautious not to walk anywhere near close to each other. Cliff kept his hands shoved deep in his pockets, only taking them out to smoke a cigarette. Emily noted two bakeries that they passed as they walked by. At least it would be a start in finding Claudia. They walked past the Hotel Iroquois, the hotel where Cliff had actually met Cecily six and a half years ago. It still looked pretty much the same, though it did get a new sign over the years and a fresh coat of paint. “We could stay at the Iroquois,” suggested Emily. “I don’t recall it being expensive.” “It’ll only make me think of Cecily, and the fact that she’s gone,” said Cliff distantly. “Some of the rooms always smelled kind of funky anyway.” “Was it the rooms, or was it you Cliff?” shot Emily. “Ha ha,” Cliff retorted as he took a puff on his cigarette. “We can stay at The Inn at Copenhagen. It’s just down the street. It’s a little more expensive, but at least it won’t be a constant reminder of Cecily.” “I don’t have much money on me Cliff,” said Emily. “I wasn’t expecting having to pay for four hours worth of a taxi cab, and with having to change our plane ticket, and now the hotel room. I can’t afford a real expensive room right now.” “Neither can I,” Cliff admitted. “I’m also paying for a room in London at the motherfucking Four Seasons. And I’m not even there to enjoy it.” “Your titty dancer is,” Emily replied. “She’s not a titty dancer,” Cliff retorted. “Cheyenne works with the old people.” “I’m sure that the old men love her,” quipped Emily. “It’s a wonder that she hasn’t given any of them a heart attack yet. I thought that she was a professional groupie.” “She’s that too,” nodded Cliff. “At least she gets the kick ass accommodations.” He came to a halt and grabbed Emily by the arm, making her stop walking as well. “Look Emily,” he began. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but could we share a room and split the cost? It would be just for economic reasons. I would view it as if I were sharing a room with Kirk. I’m not trying to get into your pants or anything.” “Of course you’re not Cliff,” retorted Emily. “I’m much too old for you anyway. I’m not fifteen.” “Quit being a turd!” Cliff demanded. “We’ll get two beds. Are you cool with it?” Emily nodded, but she did not look too thrilled. “Fine,” she answered, giving an annoyed sigh. She looked up and finally noticed just what they were standing in front of. “Oh my!” she exclaimed. “We’re standing in front of the milliner’s shop. This is where I had my apprenticeship years ago.” “I bought Cecily her first dress here,” murmured Cliff, as he took a thoughtful drag on the cigarette. The store was closed since it was now evening, but it still had all kinds of silks, fabrics, paisleys, and plaids, along with a couple of fantastic hats in the window. “I had my first job here,” said Emily as she peered in the window. “They still carry the finest dresses in all of Copenhagen.” “You know what this also is?” Cliff asked, as he watched Emily excitedly peek into the windows. Emily whirled around to face him. She watched as he threw his cigarette down on the ground, and then stepped on it. “It’s where we met,” she replied. “Yeah,” said Cliff, a bit awkwardly. The two were silent for a few minutes, a transparent, twilight, breeze catching their hair. Emily tried to act as if she were more interested in the milliner’s shop windows. “We should get our room,” she said finally. “Lest we find that everywhere has been booked up for the night and we wind up sleeping on the street. And I’m going to remind you Cliff, that this is strictly business. It will be just like sharing a room with Kirk.” “Oh yes,” Cliff nodded as he took Emily’s duffel bag for her and the two started down the street towards the inn. “Just like Kirk,” he said. “Only you’re not as cute…” |
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| Shayi | February 4, 2008, 11:41 am Post #290 |
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Bring me that horizon
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*G* There is also a cereal over here called Cheerios. But there you go I hope that you have a fantabulous time at Mardi Gras! Enjoy! “Just like Kirk,” he said. “Only you’re not as cute…” Oh Cliff - what a thing to say to a girl! He's lucky if Emily doesn't lamp him with her handbag... Wow it sounds pretty damned skanky where Claudia was living - and I can't wait to see what happens with Cliff and Emily unleashed upon Copenhagen (judging by the shennanigans of the last time any of that lot were there!). I do really rather feel sorry for that taxi driver! Must have been hellish putting up with those two both drunk and bickering at the same time. I really think that taxi drivers must have the patience of saints sometimes. If it was me I'd get really narky and bitch someone out, but there we go! This story is so fabulous, no matter how many times it branches out in different ways (and no matter how many different countries the characters are scattered through!) it never ever loses its flow! It'll be sad with no updates for a while - but I'm looking forward to 'em whenever they keep comign again |
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| Lucifer's Angel | February 4, 2008, 12:50 pm Post #291 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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I feel very sorry for any kid Claudia might have And that part of Odense sounded terrible. I don't even want to know what Claudia is like now
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| Battery | February 5, 2008, 7:04 am Post #292 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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I agree with Vanessa, that part about Claudia was horrible I feel so sorry for her kids..... And I love Goonies too And the bit with Copenhagen...... It was very romantic when Cliff and Emily bumped on the milliner's shop where they met for the first time And Cliff constantly thinking about Cecily and worrying about her is SO sweet, poor guy.... If he only knew what Cecily is up to And I'm extremely curious to see what will come up from Emily and Cliff sharing the room together .....Have fun on Mardi Gras and enjoy your holiday! |
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| Verity | February 5, 2008, 1:13 pm Post #293 |
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The Story Girl
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Thank you gals immensely!!! You totally rock! I hope this chapter doesn't suck. It's a bit random. I have some time to write and post because my hubby is in a little bit of rough shape after last night. The kick ass thing was I got pummeled with beads and I got to sit in with a cajun band at a bar and play the washboards. Hopefully we will have more fun today and tonight. But anyway, another chapter for y'all. Chapter Eighty-Four “Do you think that they found Claudia yet?” Cecily asked Kirk that evening. They were sitting in Cecily’s sitting room enjoying a pot of hot chocolate before bed. Kirk was working on studying his French, for he had a French lesson tomorrow. “I don’t know Cecily,” answered Kirk. “Probably not. Evan told me that Cliff and Emily are spending the night in Copenhagen. I would assume if they had already spoken to her that they would have come right home.” “She’s probably giving blowjobs in some crack house,” muttered Cecily. “Cecily Virginia Burton!” Kirk exclaimed. “That is no way to speak about the woman who carried you in her womb for nine months, and then gave birth to you.” “She only carried me for seven months,” shot back Cecily. “I was a preemie.” “Still,” scolded Kirk. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. Claudia wouldn’t be doing that kind of shit anyway. She’s due to have another baby soon.” “That won’t stop her believe me,” Cecily sighed. “I wonder if she loves her new kids more than she loved me. She must. They still live with her.” “They still live with her because they weren’t saved by a heavy metal bassist like you were,” Kirk pointed out. “You were the lucky one.” “She never wrote me back either,” Cecily said sadly. She watched as Kirk frowned at his French workbook. “I thought that you said that you regret writing to her?” said Kirk. “Why on earth would you want her to write you back?” “I don’t know,” Cecily shrugged. “I guess because it would mean that she somewhat cared about me.” Kirk sighed. He set down his pen and pulled out the rubber band that had been holding back his ebony tresses. His curls sputtered down his back as he stretched. Cecily had to admit that having Kirk Hammett alone in her swanky hotel room at night was quite thrilling, and her heart was thumping quite swiftly. The way he was dressed only catered to it. He was barefoot, and wearing a pair of drawstring yoga pants that were the color of butter toffee, with a thin, white, sleeveless, tank top that showcased his fine, smooth, golden, rippling, muscles. His skin glowed, for it was rumored that he rubbed a mixture of salt and honey over his entire body to cleanse and exfoliate. It was all that Cecily could do to keep herself from drooling right on him. “Claudia still cares about you,” he told her kindly. “But she no longer has to worry about you because you have a terrific home with a loving family. She has to worry about herself and her other kids now.” Cecily watched as Kirk went back to his French work. “Bateau, pain, chien, chaise, maison, velo,” he recited as he worked on his list of vocabulary words. “Mr. Kirk?” Cecily asked, still looking at him. “Oui Mademoiselle,” Kirk replied. “Do you think that Claudia would be proud of me?” she asked. “I mean, I haven’t saved the world yet, but I get good marks in school, and I work hard on my painting, and in my art classes. If she knew, do you think that she’d be proud?” “Of course,” answered Kirk. “Any parent would. Why wouldn’t she be?” “I don’t know,” said Cecily. “I don’t use her last name. I don’t think that I have much of my Danish accent anymore either. Actually, I don’t remember much Danish at all.” “Neither do I,” agreed Kirk. “Lars made us learn it once. Oh well. At least now I’m learning French, and Greek, and Latin, and Mandarin. But you are right on the accent thing. I hardly notice it on you anymore. You’re a California girl now.” “She’d be upset with me,” said Cecily. “So what?” Kirk shrugged. “You’re one of us now, and you’ve turned out really well. You’re a good kid. Cliff as insane as he is, he has been a good and responsible parent to you. She’s not going to be upset with you. You were like five when you came over here Cess. That’s young. You’ve spent more of your life in the United States then in Denmark. It’s only natural that you would eventually drop the accent.” “Thank you Mr. Kirk,” said Cecily as she gave him a hug. “My pleasure,” answered Kirk. “Now let’s see,” he mumbled as he looked back at his book. “Etoile, bebe, livre, fleur, tigre,” he mumbled on. Watching Kirk study actually led Cecily to think about Jackson. She had had so much fun hanging around with him over the summer. She would give anything to see her boyfriend again. What if she came home from England and Jackson decided that he no longer liked her anymore? “Mr. Kirk,” Cecily piped up again. “Hmmm?” Kirk answered. He was trying with all of his little mite to conjugate verbs. He gripped tightly to his pencil, and was biting down on his tongue. “I need to ask you one more thing,” said Cecily. “Fire away,” replied Kirk. “Well you see,” Cecily began. “I have this boy that I really like named Jackson.” “I know about the Great Jackson White Rock Fiasco,” Kirk returned. “James told me all about it.” “He’s my boyfriend,” Cecily explained. “Right before he left White Rock, he gave me a quick little kiss on the cheek, but I had no time to kiss him back.” “A kiss on the cheek is nothing Cecily,” answered Kirk. “Jackson didn’t even make it to first base.” “I know,” Cecily sighed. “I want to be able to kiss him back someday, on the lips like normal people do, but I’ve never done it before. What if he hates it?” “Men like it when you kiss the inside of their ears,” Kirk reported as he worked on writing sentences in French. “You just have to roll your tongue up like a cigarette and stick it right in there.” He purred like a kitten. “Will you show me how to kiss Mr. Kirk?” asked Cecily. Kirk dropped his pencil at once, and stared at her. “Are you out of your mind Cecily?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow that looked like a raven feather. “I can’t show you how to kiss.” “Why the hell not?” asked Cecily. “You kiss women all the time. You’re a master at kissing.” “Well you do have that right,” Kirk agreed. “Cecily, it would be inappropriate. I’m your dad’s age. I can’t be kissing a twelve-year-old. We’re already going to be in enough trouble with Cliff once he finds out that I’ve really just had you stashed away in this hotel suite this entire time. Lord knows what he’d do if he knew that I was giving you kissing lessons.” “He doesn’t have to know about it,” Cecily pressed. “I’m so weird and awkward. I’ll never be able to kiss Jackson.” Kirk sighed, and looked down at his French reader. “I really don’t know Cecily. I think that there are laws against a twenty-nine-year old kissing a twelve-year-old.” “But we’re in England,” Cecily reminded him. “Maybe they don’t have those laws.” “I’m not sure,” Kirk wondered. “I should have asked that silly, horny, policeman that Evan has out looking for you.” “You could ask Shayi,” suggested Cecily. Kirk looked thoughtful. “True,” he nodded. “But something tells me that if Shayi got a phone call from me asking her about kissing, she’d probably faint,” he said. “We best leave her alone.” “I’ll never be a good kisser,” Cecily wistfully sighed. Kirk hated seeing Cecily so down and upset. He supposed that it couldn’t hurt. They were in a private hotel room. No one would ever know. He got up from his chair and went over to the window where he drew closed the drapes, lest someone from the media caught wind of MTV break out band Metallica’s guitarist hitting on a twelve-year-old. He made his way back to the table where Cecily was sitting. So much for studying French, he thought. “What are you doing Mr. Kirk?” asked Cecily. “Giving you your kissing lesson,” Kirk replied as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small atomizer of breath spray. He sprayed the inside of his mouth. “Girls and guys like to kiss a mouth that smells nice,” he lectured. “Oh my God!” Cecily squeaked. “You’re really going to give me a kissing lesson?” “You tell no one about this,” Kirk said sternly. “Not Emily, not Cliff, not Evan, or Lars and James, not Brunhilda, or Jackson.” “Oh I’m not going to tell Jackson,” rattled Cecily. “He’d probably kick my ass.” “Your dad will kick my ass if he finds out,” said Kirk. “I promise that I won’t breathe a word of this to him, or to anyone,” Cecily rambled, becoming breathless. “Wild horses wouldn’t be able to drag this from me. But don’t I need to go brush my teeth first? You brought that pasta for dinner and-” “Do you want your kissing lesson or not?” snapped a slightly irritated Kirk. “Yes,” replied Cecily. “Well then shut up,” said Kirk. He went over to her, standing next to the chair that she was sitting in. He bent over so that he would be more at her level. Gently with one finger, he tilted her chin up. Cecily immediately closed her eyes and puckered up her lips. Kirk couldn’t help but smile in amusement. She was already puckered up and ready to go, which was half of the battle. He decided to leave her in limbo there for a few moments with her eyes shut and mouth puckered. Cecily dare didn’t open her eyes. What if Kirk thought that she was a weirdo? Finally Kirk moved his curtain of thick, black, curls away from his face and bent in to get closer to Cecily. He closed his eyes, and placed his lips to hers, and then he gave her a slow, but sweet and fairly short kiss. To Cecily, the kiss felt very soft and extremely wet. Something from deep, deep, deep, down in the very abyss of her tingled. It was a strange feeling, but that didn’t mean that she still didn’t like it. Kirk quickly yet gently ran his fingers through her hair before breaking away from her. “And that my dear,” he said. “Is how the masters do it.” Cecily was speechless. She sat there in her chair, holding her fingers up to her lips. She could still feel the wetness of Kirk’s touch upon them. Her heart was racing crazily. Damn! She hoped to high heaven that she wouldn’t faint. That would be so embarrassing. “You alright Cecily?” Kirk asked in amusement, at the shell shocked girl that sat before him. “You’re not going to faint are you?” Cecily shook her head, still touching her mouth. “I need to get back to my French,” said Kirk as he opened up his French reader once again. “Or else Madame Henriette is not going to be very pleased with me tomorrow.” “Mr. Kirk,” Cecily whispered. “How do you say kiss in French?” “S’embrasser,” Kirk replied. “But don’t ask me to give you a lesson in French kissing. I have to draw the line somewhere…” |
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| Lucifer's Angel | February 5, 2008, 1:18 pm Post #294 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Aww, that was cute, getting a kissing lesson from Kirk Hammett I don't blame her for saying that about Claudia, she probably is doing that right now, unless she became a Hare Krishna
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| Battery | February 5, 2008, 1:40 pm Post #295 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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“And that my dear,” he said. “Is how the masters do it.” golden line from Kirk :horns2 hahaha, that was so sweet! not even a bit creepy Well I guess that's what's included in 'Being a Cliff Burton daughter advantages list': a kissing lesson from Kirk Hammett Sweet chapter!
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| Shayi | February 5, 2008, 4:38 pm Post #296 |
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Bring me that horizon
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Oh my lordy dar - this chapter anything but sucked. It absolutely rocked! And I'm glad to hear that you're having such a great time, even if hubby does feel rough. You rock those washboards! Firstly, I'm at my Dad's house at the moment before the funeral. Anyhoo I absolutely burst out laughing in the middle of the kitchen when you stuck me in there and they were all asking what I was laughing about - so I told 'em and they thought it was hilarious too!! And you're right, I think I would totally blither out if I got a call from Mr Kirk about kissing! *G* Thank you! In other randomness, this was fantastic because not only was it absolutely hilarious, but it was also great in that you had Kirk being more 'guru' like and being a great source of advice and of some rather large amounts of wisdom. Behind the good looks and the gorgeous hair there is a brain, and a darn good one. Not for nothing is that man the real brains behind Metallica, and he's compassionate too. I thought that it was a really, really beautiful scene between them. I also liked the fact that he was also learning some french in there at the same time, all good fun! And a Kirk kiss. Damned if she isn't a lucky lucky girl! If only my first kiss had been like that lol! Fantastic chapter there, where not only is there introspection but there's humour. I can't wait for there to be more of this! Keep on rocking out
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| Simone | February 6, 2008, 3:09 am Post #297 |
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Mistress of Puppets
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HOLY FRIGGIN SHIT!!!!!!!!! Lmao!!!! This was the weirdest chapter!! I can't believe Kirk ACTUALLY kissed her!! Damn,I wish I was Cecily Who wouldn't ??Have fun at Mardi Gras!!! Uhh,this might sound stupid but...What's Mardi Gras? :wacko: I know I've heard it somewhere else,but I didn't ask... CAn't wait to hear more about your trip and the story :horns2
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| Verity | February 6, 2008, 3:35 am Post #298 |
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The Story Girl
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Vanessa- Everyone should take a kissing lesson from Mr. Hammett. Maggie- I'm glad that you liked Kirk's lesson and didn't find it creepy. I didn't want it to seem creepy, just a nice innocent lesson. I'm glad that you enjoyed it.Shayi- I thought that you would get a kick out of that. I would faint too if Kirk ever called me asking about kissing. Fuck. If Kirk ever called me I would faint. Simone- Mardi Gras is a big party we have where I live to celebrate the day before lent starts. Everyone goes absolutely crazy for one day. Parties, drinks, parades. Everyone dresses up. It's like a boozed up Halloween for adults. It's great fun and my favorite time of year. Chapter Eighty-Five “I forgot how much Danish TV sucks,” Cliff sighed as he flipped through the channels with the remote. He was inside his room at The Inn at Copenhagen. They didn’t get anything fancy. It wasn’t even close to holding a candle to Cecily’s pleasure palace suite at the Four Seasons, but the room was efficient. It had two full size beds with a night table in between. Each bed had a reading lamp hanging over it from the wall. There was a small desk and chair in the corner, and it had a separate bathroom with a toilet and shower, but the sink was inside the main room. Emily had gone down to the lobby to use the public phone to call Evan. She didn’t want to talk to Evan in front of Cliff, and Cliff was just as happy not to have to listen to her slop and mung on the phone to her fiancé. He was waiting for some food that he had ordered to come, but it was taking forever. When he came around to his fourth time flipping through the same TV channels he decided that he had had enough. “Fuck you!” he growled at the TV and he threw the TV remote across the room. At that moment Emily came in through the door, the remote nearly hitting her. Instead, it hit the wall, cracking the plastic on the back of it. “Cliff!” Emily yelled. “You broke it.” “TV in Denmark sucks,” Cliff growled. “That’s not the remote control’s fault,” Emily returned. She was carrying a big folded white sheet in her arms, along with a small paper sack. “Now who’s going to fix it?” “Fuck it,” Cliff shrugged. “Who cares?” “I’m not paying for it,” said Emily. “I’ll pay for it,” Cliff answered in an I-don’t-give-a-shit tone. “I break shit in hotel rooms all the time. Big fucking deal. There’s nothing else to do in this shit hole town.” Cliff used to break shit in hotel rooms regularly while out on tour with Metallica. He had a repertoire of broken mirrors, closet door hinges, lamps, busted up lampshades, air conditioning units, and tables. It got to the point where hotels started to charge a security deposit for whenever Metallica would come through, a deposit that Metallica would never get back. Cliff found trashing hotel rooms quite funny until he had taken on Cecily. Once, while they were on a trip to Vancouver with just the two of them, she had watched Cliff smash the living shit out of a vanity table with a hammer just for shits and giggles. For some random reason the very next week while the band was hanging out at the Ulrich Estate, she smashed one of Mrs. Ulrich’s expensive, imported, vases from Denmark. When Cliff scolded her and asked why she had done it she replied “For shits and giggles.” Needless to say, Cecily got her ass kicked, and Cliff stopped smashing the fuck out of hotel rooms. Emily gave Cliff a nasty look and then threw her paper sack down on her bed and unrolled the white sheet the she had been holding. “What the fuck is that?” Cliff snarled as he took out his cigarettes, stuffed one into his mouth, and lit it. “It’s a giant bed sheet,” Emily retorted. “What the fuck do you think it is? And you’re not smoking in here.” “It’s my fucking room,” snapped Cliff. “I can smoke in here if I want to.” “I paid for half of this room, and I’m not going to breathe and smell that disgusting, vile, shit,” said Emily as she shook out the sheet. “I can’t believe that you went back to that nasty habit,” she ranted on. “You had stopped for nearly three years.” “Yeah and I got addicted to that diet orange slice soda shit,” Cliff replied, as he blew a billow of some in Emily’s direction. “I’d much rather kiss someone who smells like orange soda than like an ashtray,” said Emily. “Well you ain’t going to be kissing me no more anyway,” Cliff shot. “No, thank God,” Emily quipped. Cliff watched while smoking his cigarette and cocking his head, as Emily took a giant roll of duct tape out of the paper sack that was on her bed. She moved the lamp, clock, phone, and Cliff’s wallet off of the night table that was between the two beds, and threw them down onto her own bed. “Hey!” Cliff squawked. “What the fuck are you doing? Don’t touch my wallet!” Emily didn’t answer. Instead, she took his cigarette out of his hand and put it out in the ashtray. Then she moved the ash tray off of the night table as well. “What the fuck are you doing Emily?” Cliff demanded again, lighting up another cigarette. He was not going to let some British broad tell him when he could and could not smoke. He had paid for his half of the room fair and square. Emily ignored him. To Cliff’s shock and amazement she climbed up on top of the night table while holding the duct tape and the giant bed sheet by the corner. She started to tape the corner of the sheet to the wall, up near the ceiling. “Emily!” Cliff squawked. “What the fuck?” She taped the corner of the sheet down very securely, with a shit load of duct tape. It would take an army tank and a M60 machine gun to ever get it down. She then jumped from the night table onto her bed, flopping down on the bed with a big bounce. “Tell me just what kind of bullshit you are trying to pull?” Cliff demanded. He got up from his bed, and hovered over her. Emily remained silent. She took his cigarette again from him and put it out. Then she took her duct tape and moseyed over to the other side of the room were there was a long dresser. She picked up the other corner of the sheet, which was now halfway hanging on the floor and climbed up on the dresser. She taped that end up as well, creating a wall right down the middle of the room, and in between the two beds. She jumped down off of the dresser. “There,” she said with satisfaction as she admired her work. Cliff lifted the sheet up and let himself into Emily’s side. “What is this shit?” he barked. “It’s an asshole barrier,” replied Emily. “It keeps you out of my side of the room. Now shoo. Go back to your side.” “Emily this is fucking ridiculous!” Cliff shouted. “We fucking shared the same bed for six fucking years! We can share a fucking hotel room! I’m not going to try and rape you during the night. I’m not attracted to you anymore.” Emily couldn’t help but be a little hurt. Wasn’t she still at least attractive? “I’m not worried about you raping me,” she replied huffily. “You annoy the hell out of me and I don’t want to have to deal with you or any of your bullshit. Now please go back to your side of the room.” “How come your side has the window, the closet, the bathroom, and the TV?” Cliff asked. “Because you said that TV in Denmark sucks,” replied Emily. “And how the hell am I supposed to use the bathroom?” Cliff quipped. “Just piss in the corner,” answered Emily. “You used to that all the time in Metallica’s tour busses.” Cliff frowned. He flipped her off and then disappeared to the other side of the sheet. Things were quiet and peaceful for about ten blissful minutes. There was a knock on the door. The food that Cliff ordered had arrived. Cliff poked his head under the sheet. “Do I dare enter the sanctuary so that I can answer the door and get my food?” he asked sardonically. “You have thirty seconds,” Emily retorted. Cliff scrambled onto the other side of the sheet. He noticed that Emily had changed into her nightgown. It was light blue and silky, and rather flimsy since it was July, and quite warm outside. Her hair was down and she was wearing her reading glasses. He immediately looked away from her as he made his way to the door, paid the delivery dude, and then took his food back to “his” side of the room, without offering her any. Fuck her. She was no longer his concern, and he wasn’t going to feed her. Cliff opened the box of wonderful hearty Danish food. There was grounded pork and beef shank over rice with smashed potatoes. He had also ordered a huge ass chunk of dark, dark, rye bread, almost has dark as Kirk Hammett’s curls. Neither of them had eaten all day. They had had a hell of a lot to drink, but no food. Cliff happily dug into his dinner, but he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Emily. She was a bitch, but even bitches had to eat too. He couldn’t nearly finish the amount of food that he had. He only ate half of the bread, and he had a ton of rice and potatoes left over (starch city whoa). He licked beef grease off of his fingers and yawned. It was nearing eleven o’clock at night, which was early for him to retire, but it had been a long ass fucking day, and he was still jetlagged from flying in from California. They’d be up early hunting for Claudia for sure, so he supposed that he should get some sleep. He closed up his box of food, and pulled off his shoes, socks, and bellbottoms. Originally he had been planning on keeping his T-shirt on to sleep in so that Emily wouldn’t get any ideas, but since they had the “asshole barrier” he really didn’t need to. He cast off his shirt, settled down into the bed, and then turned off his light. Upon realizing that Cliff had gone to sleep Emily decided that she should too. She was surprised that he didn’t put on some Bach and smoke his bedtime joint. She washed up in the sink, and then she too climbed into bed and turned off her light, however she was wide awake. Her mind was racing about her poor little Cecily, and she was extremely hungry too. Actually she was ravenously hungry. Cliff’s food had smelled so good to her, the aroma drifting over to her side of the room through the sheet. The asshole didn’t even offer her any. The prick! She focused her thoughts on Cecily. They’ve searched every corner of London and she’s nowhere to be found. Maybe she really is with Claudia, and maybe she’d rather stay with her. I have a hard time believing that even if Cecily was with her mom that she would never even at least call and tell us. She’d never do such a thing. The very thought of Cecily preferring that slut head Claudia after the six years of love and devotion that she had given to her greatly hurt Emily. It stung right down to the core of her heart. The only other option was that Cecily had been abducted and murdered, which was even worse. Emily tried to hold back tears. She didn’t want to wake Cliff, but she couldn’t help it. Things were so very wrong right now. Just three days ago her life had been filled with taking Cecily to tea, and wedding nonsense. Her biggest worry had been Mrs. Fitzgerald barging in on everything. Now she had much more serious problems, real problems. She no longer cared if she ever had any wedding at all if it meant that Cecily would be returned safely to her. She buried her face deep within her pillow to muffle her sobs. She couldn’t help but feel guilty. She felt that the nasty argument that she had had with Cliff over Cecily spending the holidays with her might be related to Cecily disappearing. They’re breakup had been so hard on her. Cecily had already been through so much shit for such a little girl. Now she had to deal with parents who not only split up, but hated each other. It seemed as if Emily had failed in all points in her life. She had failed with Cliff, failed when she left her dream job in San Francisco, failed at planning her wedding, and most of all, she failed with Cecily. The tears were coming at a steady pace now, with no end in sight. Cliff hadn’t been able to sleep either. How the fuck could he? His only child was out lost somewhere, and no one seemed to know how to find her. He heard something that sounded like muffled crying coming from the other side of the asshole barrier. Fuck, he thought. It’s Emily. Should I go to her? No. She’s been nothing but a spoiled, surly, hard ass to me this entire time. Cliff turned his back so that it faced the asshole barrier, and stuffed his head under his pillow. The pillow totally blocked out Emily’s soft, muffled, sobs. However, Cliff felt terrible. He had a lady crying in his presence, and here he was trying to sleep through it. “What’s the matter Emily?” Cliff finally asked, from his side of the room. “Shut up and go to sleep Cliff!” Emily snapped. “Leave me alone!” “Fuck you!” Cliff spat. “I try to be nice to you, and ask you what the fuck is the matter, and you just tell me to shut up! You can piss and moan for the entire night for all I care.” Emily brushed away a few tears. Just because Cliff and I aren’t together anymore doesn’t mean that we have to hate each other, she thought. Our hatred is what got us into this mess. “Cliff,” she said in a much gentler tone. Cliff didn’t answer but she had a feeling that he was still awake. “I’m sorry,” she went on. “I had no right to snap at you like that. I am angry and worried sick about Cecily so I’m unusually bitchy right now.” “Unusually?” said Cliff. “You’re an ass,” Emily snapped. She sighed, turned on her light, and got up out of bed. She lifted up the sheet, coming into Cliff’s side of the room. Cliff was lying on his side, looking thoughtful. Upon seeing Emily he raised his eyebrows. “I want to call a truce,” she said as she stood there looking forlorn and a little uncomfortable. She knew that she was standing there in a thin, summer, nightgown, in front of her ex, and she could feel his eyes upon her. It was just a plain weird feeling. She went on, playing with her cuticles as she spoke “I don’t think that either of us realized just how hard our breakup has been on Cecily. Not only does she have to deal with the breakup, but she also has to deal with us constantly insulting each other in front of her. I think that perhaps if we had not been so volatile towards each other that she’d probably still be with us right now. I want to stop the constant arguing Cliff. We don’t have to like each other. I don’t like you anymore, and you don’t like me, but Cecily does seem to like me, and for her we should at least tolerate each other and be civil.” Cliff was quiet as Emily spoke, instead playing with the top edge of his blanket. Actually, he had never thought about how their breakup had affected Cecily. He had only thought about himself, and trying to find a new chickie to jump in the sack with. Maybe it was because Emily wasn’t his wife, and it wasn’t a divorce, but he had never thought that Cecily would really care as long as she had had him around. It finally occurred to him that perhaps to Cecily it was like going through a divorce, and the constant digs, put downs, and bitching at Emily might have been quite hurtful towards the little girl. After all, like it or not Emily was the closest thing that Cess had ever had to a mother. “I would do anything,” Emily sighed as she folded her arms across her chest. “I would give my own life if it would mean that Cecily could be back safe in your arms Cliff.” Cliff didn’t know what the fuck to say. It was just sinking in that his treatment of Emily could have possibly caused Cecily’s disappearance, and that was a very hard pill for him to swallow. He noticed the box of food sitting on his half of the night table. He gestured to it. “I have leftover food,” he said quietly. Emily frowned. “So?” she snapped. “I really don’t give a shit!” “Don’t get all pissy with me Miss I-Want-to-Call-a-Truce!” retorted Cliff. “I was trying to make a peace offering. I thought that you might be hungry.” Emily just stared at him for a few minutes, feeling naked in her short little silky nightgown. She had gotten so used to snapping, bitching, and hating the very thought of Cliff that it was going to take some getting used to before she could think to act civil. She cleared her throat. “Thank you Cliff,” she replied. “I guess that I am a little hungry, and I’m sorry that I got all pissy with you.” Cliff nodded. “Here,” he said as he grabbed the box of food and a fork and handed it over to her. “You’ll have to use my fork though.” Emily didn’t give a shit really. She was just happy to be eating, even if it was only a little. “You can sit down you know,” said Cliff as he pointed to the edge of the bed. “They say that it you stand while you eat that it goes straight to your hips.” Emily stopped eating and glared at Cliff for a moment. Then she plopped down on the edge of his bed and went back to eating. Cliff watched her as she ate. How could he not? Her nightgown was like pissing in the ocean. It didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination. He had a beautiful woman sitting right on the edge of his bed half dressed. What was he supposed to do? Emily bit into the chunk of dark bread like Geezer gnawing on a chew bone. “What?” she demanded, upon Cliff staring at her. “Nothing,” answered Cliff. “Can’t I watch you eat?” Emily rolled her eyes at him and went back to her food. “Uh Pussy Ca- I mean Emily,” said Cliff awkwardly. “I want to thank you.” “For what?” Emily asked without even looking up from her food. “For being so good to Cecily over the years and shit,” Cliff blurted out shyly. “I never thanked you for all of the shit that you did for her, buying her clothes and picking her up from school, and taking her with you to New York City a lot. I would never have been able to raise her all by myself. So thank you.” Emily stopped eating. She looked at him to make sure that Cliff wasn’t pulling some bullshit with her, but he looked dead serious, he was even blushing. “You’re welcome,” she said finally. “It was nothing…” |
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| Simone | February 6, 2008, 4:37 am Post #299 |
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Mistress of Puppets
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AWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!! I can't believe it! Cliff and Emily not yelling at each other? This is the 3rd time that I got shocked today and it's only 10:30 am !Mardi Gras sounds wonderful! Have a great time! I sssssssooooo love this storyyyyyy!!!! Keep up the magnifique work! :horns2
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| Battery | February 6, 2008, 5:52 am Post #300 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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The first part of this chapter was hilarious I loved the 'asshole barrier' Emily rocks! "Once, while they were on a trip to Vancouver with just the two of them, she had watched Cliff smash the living shit out of a vanity table with a hammer just for shits and giggles. For some random reason the very next week while the band was hanging out at the Ulrich Estate, she smashed one of Mrs. Ulrich’s expensive, imported, vases from Denmark. When Cliff scolded her and asked why she had done it she replied “For shits and giggles.” that bit made me laugh really hard And the second part was very sweet, it's so great that they stopped arguing for a while and were nice to each other Awesome chapter!!!
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![]](http://z1.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)
And boy are Cliff and Emily going to be sick tomorrow, I can't drink as much as they do, I'd feel really sick. And Mrs. Fitzgerald is a cunt



And that part of Odense sounded terrible. I don't even want to know what Claudia is like now
I feel so sorry for her kids.....
And Cliff constantly thinking about Cecily and worrying about her is SO sweet, poor guy.... If he only knew what Cecily is up to
Uhh,this might sound stupid but...What's Mardi Gras? :wacko: I know I've heard it somewhere else,but I didn't ask...

8:42 PM Jul 10