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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 (11,134 Views) | |
| Battery | March 1, 2008, 10:26 am Post #421 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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The bit with Whole Lotta Rosie cracked me LOL.And yaaaay, Emily's going to wear her dream dress I don't blame her for acting neurotic, that had to be a huge stress for her And it's so sweet that it's Cliff and Cecily who will help her to wear her dress , I loved their 'team spirit' I'm only worried what will Mrs. Fitzgerald do .....
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| maisy blue | March 1, 2008, 1:25 pm Post #422 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Is it weird I feel a little bad for "Rosie"? I hope her wedding isn't that day so she can locate her dress. I can just imagine her bawling when Emily's dress won't even go over her leg I could TOTALLY relate to Emily in this chapter- when I ordered my own wedding dress, the girl at the bridal salon insisted I was a size 14 after she measured me, but I knew i wasn't. She kept telling me bridal stuff ran small so I finally agreed. The dress finally came two months later and it was HUGE- it had to be taken in 3 or 4 sizes. I did try it on before my wedding so I had time to get the alterations done, thank goodness. But I remember trying it on and thinking "what the HELL?" However, I am glad that Emily gets to wear her own dress. Anything with a corset is beautiful. Can't wait to hear about the details of the dress and the details of the wedding. Something is going to happen. This was a great chapter.
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| Verity | March 2, 2008, 2:08 am Post #423 |
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The Story Girl
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Maisy- I feel bad for Rosie too. Bridal gowns are weird. Fortunately, I bought mine off the rack so I didn't have to have it ordered and then get a surprise when it came, but it still had to be altered a lot. Vanessa- For some reason it gave me great amusement to imagine Cecily running shit over in her SUV Maggie-I'm glad that you liked Rosie. My mom has this overweight dog named Rose,but I call her Rosie and whenever she walks into the the room I sing that song. She's actually a very cool dog. Chapter 117 “I feel so beautiful,” Kirk Hammett sighed as leaned back into the thick cloud of mud that he was enveloping him. He didn’t have a care or worry in the world. After all, how could he? The previous night he had just made the rounds with three beautiful women, and now he was very much enjoying his Daji Himalayan mud bath. He surrendered his entire body into the warm mixture of mud and oatmeal, his body feeling weightless as it floated amongst the warm softness of the warm, liquid, earth. A CD of mother whales giving birth drifted peacefully from the stereo speakers as incense leisurely burned. A clay facemask made from honey, witch hazel, lemon curd, and rose pedals, was plastered onto his face. Two cucumber slices were placed delicately over his eyes. His thick mass of black silken curls were tied back away from his face with a lavender scented terrycloth headband. “I feel so very, very, very, beautiful,” Kirk said to Alejandra who was taking her mud bath in the tub next to him. “I feel beautiful too,” she replied. “What would you do if I came out of here looking more beautiful than you are?” she asked. “I don’t know,” Kirk replied thoughtfully. “Probably stab you in the face with my shoehorn.” Their tranquil siesta was interrupted by Cheyenne, who burst into the spa with Evan right behind her. “Hello Kirky!” she greeted as she bounded over to him. “Shhhhh,” Kirk hissed. “You’re ruining my meditation.” “Yeah Cheyenne,” Alejandra snapped. “Kirk and I are meditating.” Cheyenne frowned at her. How come Kirk paid for her to have a mud bath at the spa, yet he didn’t pay for Cheyenne to get one too? It just wasn’t fair. Cheyenne had been around a hell of a lot longer than Alejandra the slutty, Spanish, hotel maid. “I guess that I should get going,” announced Evan. “I’ll see you at the wedding tonight Kirk.” Kirk took the cucumbers off of his eyes at once. “Evan!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” “I gave Cheyenne a ride,” replied Evan. “Since Cliff left her stranded at my house.” “Man, Cliff is always leaving chicks stranded all over the place,” chortled Kirk. “Did you know that he once left Emily stranded outside in the parking lot of this old school, heavy metal, club in downtown Detroit in the pouring rain?” “No!” Evan gasped. “Really?” He was suddenly very interested. He loved hearing about all of the awful things that Cliff had done. The man was such a loser. “She was pissed as hell,” said Kirk as he laid back into his cloud of molten mud. “Not only was it raining cats and dogs out, but there was this gang of thugs hanging out in the parking lot as well.” “Thugs?” said Evan. “You know,” Kirk elaborated as he stepped out of the mud bath completely naked giving Evan and a drooling Cheyenne quite the show. “Gangsters.”“My Emily was around gangsters!” Evan shrieked. A beautiful half naked Persian love goddess named Isis, started to clean the mud off of Kirk’s body with damp, warm, lemon scented, washcloths. “They were after Lars actually,” Kirk went on. “You see, Lars had bought some smack from them earlier before our concert. He promised them payment right after the show, but of course he didn’t have the cash on him for it. We were still very up and coming, we didn’t have the bread that we do now.” Isis escorted him across the room where there was another bathing pool, so that Kirk could slowly cool his body down with a mineral whirlpool bath. He went on “Since he didn’t have the money on him, Lars’s plan was to skip out on them after the show. We had to play in Cheboygan the next night, so we just figured that we’d get the fuck out of there as soon as we ended our set. We played, loaded up our shit, and hightailed it out of there. Emily was in the ladies room and she got left behind. In all of the excitement Cliff must have forgotten about her, I’m pretty sure he was stoned. He didn’t realize it until we were halfway to Cheboygan. By that time, the club had closed and Emily had been left alone in the parking lot with the thugs.” “Sweet Lord of creation!” Evan gasped. “I can’t believe that he would leave a woman alone at night in a parking lot with thugs. He wasn’t even good enough to have a woman like Emily for a day, let alone six years. What could she ever have seen in him?” Kirk shrugged, much more interested in his mineral bath. “He plays brilliant bass solos, he replied. “Come to think of it, she was so mad at him that she was going to call off their engagement, but Cliff called it off first. He always much preferred doing the dumping, than being dumped. Actually, that was when they called off their first engagement. Isn’t that hysterical?” Evan didn’t find it quite so hysterical. He didn’t like thinking about when Emily used to be engaged to Cliff. It made him feel uncomfortable. It was obvious that Cliff didn’t love or care about Emily as much as he did. Evan would never leave Emily stranded anywhere, let alone some burned out, seedy, club in Detroit. “Is that Armani?” Kirk asked, pulling Evan out of his thoughts. “Huh?” Evan asked. “Georgio Armani,” Kirk repeated. “Did he design your suit? It’s very snazzy. I could never wear a tailcoat. I’m much too short.” *** “Would you hold still! You fidget more than a jack rabbit on acid,” Cliff declared as he worked on lacing up Emily’s corset. Emily gulped for breath as she clung to the bedpost. “You’re pulling them too tight Cliff. I can’t breathe. I’ll faint.” “Then you and Cecily can go on the family plan,” Cliff laughed. “Quit being an asshole!” Emily spat. For an answer, Cliff pulled Emily’s laces very tightly, nearly knocking the wind out of her. She whimpered. “Mom!” Cecily called. “The photographer dude is here!” “Don’t call him a “dude” Cecily,” Emily scolded. “You’re not James Hetfield.” She paused for a moment to try and catch her breath. “Cecily, why don’t you go out into the yard with the photographer and have him take your photos. I’ll be there as soon as I’m ready,” she said. “Yes Momma,” replied Cecily. She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I think that wedding gown is way prettier than the one that Mr. Kirk picked out,” she said. “Even if Daddy isn’t lacing it up correctly.” “And just what the fuck do you mean by that?” Cliff snapped. “Daddy,” Cecily giggled. “It looks like a tangled spider web. I thought that you had lots of experiences with corsets.” “Yeah...taking them off,” Cliff retorted. “Now mind your mother. Go get your pictures taken.” Cecily pouted. She hated having her picture taken, especially since she had braces. Even in her beautiful satin dress with her hair and makeup fixed all pretty, she was still in braces, and it sucked ass royally. But she minded her parents, and went downstairs. In all honesty, Cliff had no fucking idea how to lace up a corset. He thought that playing bass solos was a whole hell of a lot easier. But he did start to loosen them up a bit. He could hear Emily breathe a sigh of relief. “Is that better?” he asked. “Very much,” replied Emily. “Thank you.” Kerry had just gotten home from her hair appointment. She was very surprised to find that Cecily was with the photographer, and that still Emily wasn’t dressed yet. What on earth was taking her so long? She made her way up to Emily’s room and stood in the doorway, watching. Cliff had completely unlaced Emily’s corset, in an attempt to start over and do it the right way. “Don’t worry about it Cliff,” said Emily. “As long as it doesn’t fall down in front of everybody I don’t care.” “Nonsense Pussy Cat!” Cliff replied. “You have this kick ass dress that you designed, and you yourself look fantastic. I’m not going to have the back of your corset looking all fucked up.” “Everything else is fucked up anyway,” said Emily. “My hair is ruined, my makeup is all smeared.” “You don’t need some fancy overpriced hairdo and makeup in order to look like a princess,” responded Cliff. “In my opinion, you already look like one.” “Have you been smoking weed Cliff?” Emily asked. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Cliff asked as he frowned at the two laces that hung from the back of Emily’s dress. Which one did he lace through first? This was like motherfucking brain surgery. “Because you said that I look like a princess Cliff,” Emily shot. "That's not normal Cliff behavior." “Well you do…don’t you? I mean, it’s your wedding day, everything is going to be perfect,” he stammered, blushing a little. Ah fuck. He had again fucked up her corset. He started over…again. “Thank you Cliff,” said Emily. She stood very, very, still as he worked. “But even if I do manage to clean myself up before the wedding, Mrs. Fitzgerald is still going to throw a big hissy fit once she sees me in this dress,” she sighed. “Fuck that old cow,” Cliff muttered. “You know Pussy Cat, if she does throw a big fit you could always just turn around and marry me instead.” “She’d shit herself,” replied Emily. The two stood there in an awkward silence. Emily gazed at herself in the mirror as Cliff stood behind her. With the very tips of his callus laden fingers he started to trace the line of her shoulder starting at her neck, and going all the way down her left arm, and to her fingertips, where he took her hand in his. He moved just a little bit closer to her, and carefully moved some of the stubborn strands of hair that had fallen down from her up do. Was he going to kiss her? The thing that really shocked Kerry who had been watching from the doorway, was that Emily was responding to the intimacy. The chemistry between the two of them was just too much. Kerry had seen quite enough. She stepped into the room, and made her way over to them. “I think that since you’re having such a time lacing Emily’s corset, I’ll take over,” she said. Cliff and Emily both whirled around at once. “Mum,” Emily murmured nervously. Kerry was still in her black jogging suit, but her hair had been swept up into a very elegant chignon. “Good heavens!” she declared as she caught sight of the mass mess of tangles that Cliff had made in Emily’s corset laces. “It looks like a war zone.” She sighed as she undid Cliff’s mess. “You best just stick to bass solos,” she said. “Yeah,” Cliff replied. He stood there as Kerry swiftly laced up Emily’s dress the proper way, watching as Emily’s waist became smaller and smaller with every strand that was laced. He loved that dress on her. She looked absolutely dynamite in it. She looked so beautiful that he didn’t want to leave. “I’m so happy that you decided to wear the gown you designed dear,” said Kerry as she finished the laces off with a very neat and even bow. “It’s so beautiful. You’re so talented.” “There was a mix up at the dress shop so it was kind of decided for me,” explained Emily. “But it was Cliff’s idea to where my own dress.” She turned and smiled over at Cliff. Kerry swallowed. Things may have already gone too far. “Let’s get started on fixing your hair Emmy,” she said. She turned to Cliff who was still gazing at her daughter. “Cliff,” she went on. No answer. “Cliff!” she said again. She knew the way that Cliff was looking at her daughter. He was looking at her, imagining her naked. “Cliff!” she bellowed at him. Cliff looked at her. Kerry cleared her throat. “Thank you for bringing Cecily her shoes,” she said. “I think that you better leave now. I have to get my daughter ready for her wedding.” “Oh yeah,” Cliff mumbled. He made his over to the door of the room as Kerry seated Emily down at her vanity table. He turned around to look at her one last time, for the next time that he would see her she would be someone else’s… |
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| maisy blue | March 2, 2008, 2:46 am Post #424 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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Such a wonderful chapter. I cannot wait to see what happens at the wedding. When Emily finishes getting dressed, please give us a detailed description of her dress, if you can fit it in or feel like it. I am definitely in a tremendous dress fetish phase at the moment (as you know). I have a little mental collection of perfect dresses in my mind and I know Emily's is going to go in there. The intimacy between Emily and Cliff- wowsahs. Kirk and the maid reminds me of the My Name is Earl. I don't know if you watch that show, but there's a sexy Mexican maid on it. She's also an exotic dancer. I love this story. Kirk is SUCH a girl, which cracks me up. A big pussy with all those curls. But I am so envious of that spa treatment. You should write spa destination brochures- people would be booking millions of vacations based on your descriptions alone. Hell' I'd book one NOW based on that description, although I'd prefer a half naked man wiping the mud off. *sigh* I'm going to go to bed and imagine a blissful spa treatment now. I know I'm getting old and crabby when I go to bed fantasizing about a spa treatment and dresses instead of men. :wacko: |
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| Battery | March 2, 2008, 6:34 am Post #425 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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One of my two cats is also overweight but she's the coolest cat ever (and I feel a little guilty for laughing at 'Rosie' since I'm far away from being skinny myself but.... hell, that was funny )Anyways, amazing chapter. It was both extremely funny and moving... Kirk is such a douche but I love him this way, haha. And his spa treatments sounded heavenly. I'd love to switch places with him Well, maybe with some handsome guy instead of Alejandra Or better, switch places with Alejandra And the scene between Cliff and Emily... Wow... Cliff surely can be gently and romantic But he was helping Emily to prepare to wedding with other guy, *sigh* And the last lines were heartbreaking ....
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| Lucifer's Angel | March 2, 2008, 9:07 am Post #426 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Yeah, Kirk is such a girl My facial wasn't like that, but the spa does do those. And Cliff leaving Emily alone in Detroit Bad Cliff!, and stupid Lars The last lines are so sad, they really love each other
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| Verity | March 2, 2008, 11:43 pm Post #427 |
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The Story Girl
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Maggie- I'd like to trade places with Alejandra too. And I'm glad that you like my Kirk. The man has style. Maisy- towards the end of this chapter I did do a description of Emily's wedding dress. I described it once, but it was back like eight million chapters ago, and I forgot what it looked like too. And that spa description- I actually did use an online mud bath brochure to help me right it. Vanessa- If you ever do get a mudbath you'll have to let us know if it's like Kirk's. This chapter was another one of those more serious emotional chapters that I don't like writing. It's dribble for the most part. Chapter 118 Cliff very somberly made his way outside. Kerry’s words you better leave now, flashed through his mind. Unlike Harold, Kerry was cool and seemed to act civil towards him, but still, underneath her charm and grace, Cliff knew that she didn’t really want him around. She especially didn’t want him around that afternoon. He could feel it. He had been replaced by Evan Fitzgerald. He had gone from being Emily’s truelove, to being just the ginny maid, who was only good for ferrying over shoes and picking up wedding dresses, and even that he had managed to screw up. He could see Cecily out in the backyard with the other bridesmaids and the photographer. He was trying to get them all to stand still long enough so that he could get a group picture. Cliff decided to at least wait until he was done. He didn’t want to leave the house without saying goodbye to Cecily first. He wouldn’t be seeing her for the rest of the day, and tomorrow would be Cecily’s last day in England, and she would probably be spending it with Emily and her new husband. He plopped down on the front porch steps and lit up a cigarette. He felt so empty. He had never dreamed that Emily getting married would be so hard on him. If he had stayed in California perhaps he would feel differently, but the fact was that over the past two days he had spent a fuck load of time with her, he had even spent the entire night with her, and she still felt like his Pussy Cat. It was hard for him not to think of as his fiancée. She felt like his. If anything, their relationship was much stronger because he too knew what if felt like to be cheated on because of Clarisse. He had this whole new understanding of her. It was very hard for him to watch a woman that he still loved and felt was still his, go off and marry some other dude. It was brutal. Cecily had finished her portion of the photo shoot. She happily made her way over to him. Queen Victoria was in her arms. “Hello Daddy,” she greeted. “Hi Cess,” Cliff said glumly. “What’s wrong Daddy?” Cecily asked. “Nothing is wrong,” Cliff replied. “I can tell that you’re not happy,” said Cecily. “You seem upset. Is it because of the wedding?” “No Cecily,” Cliff sighed. “I’m upset because Dallas was cancelled,” he replied facetiously. “Really?” Cecily asked. “You do know that you can watch reruns on Lifetime on Saturday nights.” Cliff just stared at her. The kid could be so fucking gullible sometimes. “No Cecily,” he sighed. “I’m just fucking with you. Of course I’m upset about the wedding. I was with your mom for a long time, and its weird-as-fuck watching her get ready for a wedding to some other dude. I can’t help but wonder what might have been.” “I’m sorry Daddy,” said Cecily. “I wonder about that too.” “I’m sorry that I screwed things up with your Mom Cess,” Cliff went on as he carefully put out his cigarette on the bushes. “I know how much you wanted one.” Cecily shrugged, a summer breeze drifted on by and lazily played with one of her long curls. “Emily is still my mom,” she said. “She just lives in England is all.” “You deserve to have one who’s around all of the time though,” Cliff returned. “Emily sure did a hell of a lot better job on your hair and makeup than I could ever do. You look great Cess.” “Thank you,” Cecily smiled and gave him a hug. She really sorry for her father and she couldn’t help but feel that it was all her fault. If it wasn’t for her, Cliff wouldn’t be in London having to watch the woman that he still loved marry another man. He belonged in California, away from it all. Cliff hugged her back. “And it’s not like today is all bad Cess,” he went on as he patted her head. “After all, it is Sir Geezer’s birthday.” “But you’ll be all alone,” Cecily whined. “Well maybe not.” She pressed Queen Victoria into his arms. “Queen Victoria can keep you company.” “I really don’t want Emily’s dog,” Cliff moaned. “But she can’t come to the wedding, and everyone will be staying at the hotel tonight. Queen Victoria has nobody to feed her or keep her company. Won’t you take her Daddy?” “Where does it say that I run a pet sitting service?” Cliff asked, but it was too late. Cecily had already placed the pup in his arms. She gave him one last hug and then went skipping inside the house. Cliff held Queen Victoria out away from him, so that she wouldn’t shed all over his black Misfits shirt. The dog looked at him with her big, glassy, chocolate, eyes. “Bring me shoes, pick up my wedding dress, watch my dog,” he mimicked. “I’ve turned into Emily and Cecily’s bitch.” *** Kerry set her daughter down in front of her vanity table, and started to gently wipe away the smears of black eye makeup that had been smudged down Emily’s cheeks. “Do you wish to tell me what that was all about?” she demanded as she worked. “What do you mean Mum?” Emily asked, though she knew what her mother getting at. “You know what I mean,” Kerry scoffed. “How would you feel if Evan was sharing an intimate moment with his ex girlfriend on his wedding day? You of all people know what it’s like to be cheated on. Why are you doing this?” “I didn’t cheat on Evan!” Emily retorted. “He has nothing to worry about. I can’t stand Cliff.” “You sure weren’t complaining when he was touching you,” Kerry spat. She started to pin Emily’s hair back together. “You light up like a Christmas tree whenever you’re around him.” “Oh mother I do not!” Emily argued. “You do too!” said her mother. “You two both light up whenever you’re around each other. You still love each other.” “He might have a thing for me,” said Emily. “But I do not love Cliff. Yuck!” Kerry wasn’t buying it. She gave her daughter an unconvinced look. “I’m not stupid Emily,” she said softly. “Look Mum,” Emily replied as she whirled around in her chair, causing the hair that Kerry had just fixed to fall down again. “You’ve got to remember that I lived with Cliff for a long time. Six years. For six years, Cliff is all that I’ve known, and before I move on with Evan I just needed some closure.” “So while I was out, did you sleep with him too?” Kerry asked. “Since you need all of this closure? “Of course not!” Emily exclaimed. “He’s just like an old friend to me… a dear old friend.” “I see the way that he looks at you,” murmured Kerry as she started to once again pile Emily’s hair on top of her head. “Can I wear it down Mum?” she asked. “I’d really like to wear my hair down in curls.” “Why?” Kerry asked. “Is that the way that Cliff likes it?” Emily was quiet. She looked down at her satin bridal shoes. The late afternoon sunlight trickled in through the window, flooding the room with warmth, yet for some reason she felt cold. “I want you to really think about this Emily,” Kerry said firmly as she started to brush Emily’s hair down in long curls. “Think about you’re doing. I want you to be certain that this wedding is what you want.” “I’m not going to runaway with Cliff instead Mum,” Emily reassured her. “I know what it’s like to be dumped right before a wedding. It happened to me with two different guys, though Cliff at least would do it a few weeks before. I’m not going to do it to Evan.” “Evan is a very good man,” said Kerry. She sat down on the bench next to her daughter, and put her arm around her. “But I’m still your mother, and your happiness is always going to come before anyone else’s. I want you to be happy Emmy. If your heart doesn’t want to 100% marry Evan, and he’s not the one that you love, then I’d rather that you speak now, rather than later.” “But you spent all of this money on the wedding,” Emily stammered. “You’ll spend money on a divorce too if you two don’t love each other,” Kerry replied. “Just think this over carefully. It’s one of the most important decisions that you’ll ever make in your life.” She gave her daughter a squeeze and then hurried out of the room to go get her dress on. Emily was very, very, confused. Her stomach was a giant sickening bundle of nerves, worries, and woes. The truth was that she wasn’t sure what to do. Evan treated her like a queen. She knew that with Evan she’d be loved and treated very well, but she would have to deal with that horrid mother of his, and she knew that her heart didn’t belong to him. But for the past day, Cliff had been on impressive behavior, but would it last? She’d have to move all the way back to the United States to be with Cliff again. Was she up for it? Could she get back the old job that she loved so much in San Francisco? Would he turn around and hurt her again by climbing into bed with a stripper, or with any other chick for that matter? Going back to Cliff also meant getting to go back to living with Cecily, something that she wanted more than anything in the entire world. “Why can’t I just love Evan and make this easy on myself?” she asked herself out loud. She carefully unwrapped the veil out of the tissue paper that it had been carefully folded up in, and pinned it to her hair. “I’ve been waiting for this day for so fucking long,” she said as she put on her earrings. “I can’t believe that I’m actually thinking about calling it off. Maybe I’m just not meant to get married. I mean, even if I did go back to Cliff, he’d never marry me. He’s just not the marrying type. He might have been engaged to Clarisse, but I always knew that he’d never marry her. He’s never going to marry anybody. He’s going to turn out to be one of those old hippie dudes with long gray hair who does nothing except sit around in the woods with his guitar, and a deaf, arthritic, dog. He’s got the dog, he’s got the guitar. All that he needs is for his hair to turn gray.” Emily couldn’t help but chuckle over the thought of an old hippie Cliff sitting by himself in the woods. She was now almost ready to go get her bridal portrait done. Her gingery hair bad been combed down in long, soft, waves, that were delicately being kissed by her filmy chapel length veil that was trimmed with thin, satin, ribbon. She would now get to wear her dream gown that she had worked so hard on for so long. The ivory satin glistened in the sunlight. The bodice was decorated with delicately stitched embroidery. The corset stays had been laced up the proper way with creamy peach satin ribbon in neat and tidy little crisscrosses up the entire length of Emily’s back. A perfectly symmetrical bow had been tied at the very bottom. Her long, flowing, skirt billowed out from behind her. She definitely looked ready for a wedding. There was just one last thing. Since Emily had a corset bodice on her gown, the neckline was totally open and bare. It needed something. She took out the beautiful necklace from Evan. Even though it glistened beautifully, it was still quite simple and elegant, and just the right amount to add a tiny amount of sparkle to Emily’s neckline. She carefully fastened it around her neck. As she studied herself in the mirror, she clasped a hand to the necklace. Evan had bought it for her out of love, and maybe in time she would grow to love Evan too, the way that he deserved to be loved. He definitely made her happy. Having Cliff around again had made things rather difficult for her. Old feelings had been rekindled again, but on Sunday he would go back to California, and then she wouldn’t have to see him very much anymore. Actually, she’d hardly see him at all. Surely, it would be much easier to focus on her life and new marriage to Evan after Cliff was out of the picture. After all, didn’t they always say out of sight, out of mind? |
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| maisy blue | March 3, 2008, 12:33 am Post #428 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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This was beautifully written. Really captures the internal conflict Emily is having. Cliff needs to stop all his whiny pouting- he has all these amazing women in his life who care so deeply about him but he doesn't *get* it! I'm at the point where I really want Emily and Cecily to run off on their own, and just enjoy life. Let the men come to them, bow to them, work around their schedule. I see them in a tiny sunlit cottage on the beach, walking barefoot on the sand, and letting the men come to them. Evan sounds like a prince but the whole mother stuff... Evan's mom is a toxic bitch and since she raised Evan and there's genetics... it makes me wonder about Evan down the line. Plus when you marry certain people you marry their entire family. This is tough. I have no idea what I would do if I were Emily. Beautiful writing- NOT dribble at all. Stop that! You are an incredible writer. I'm so glad I get the chance to read this. It's an honor, seriously.
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| Battery | March 3, 2008, 9:44 am Post #429 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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“Bring me shoes, pick up my wedding dress, watch my dog,” he mimicked. “I’ve turned into Emily and Cecily’s bitch.” That was amazing chapter.... Poor Emily... I wonder what's Kerry up to... She wasn't exactly trying to get Cliff out of Emily's mind... And where's Evan... The descripton of the dress was awesome :horns2 !!! |
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| Lucifer's Angel | March 3, 2008, 9:56 am Post #430 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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I like the idea of Cliff as a hippie, it suits him Poor Emily though, she's so confused Her Mom is right, though, she shouldn't go through with it if she doesn't love Evan, which is hard because he's such a gentleman Maybe his bitch mother will make it easier for them
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| Verity | March 4, 2008, 12:31 am Post #431 |
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The Story Girl
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Thanks everybody so much for sticking with this. It makes me very happy indeed. Here's the next bit. I promise to get to the wedding soon. Chapter 119 Cliff Burton pushed his way through the brass trimmed revolving door that went into the Four Seasons. He held a paper bag of food in one arm, and Queen Victoria in the other. In the paper bag was his dinner, but he didn’t want to go up to his room to eat it. Being up in his room meant being all alone. He didn’t want to get wasted drunk like he did last night either. His liver was still recuperating. He figured that it would be best if he hung out in the hotel lobby, amongst many bustling people. He plopped down on an antique settee. It was brown, with red and pink flowers needlepointed onto it. He held Queen Victoria up in front of his face. “I wonder what your mommy would think if I shaved you?” Cliff mused aloud as he started to comb Queen Victoria’s hair with his fingers. “I could give you a mullet,” he laughed. Queen Victoria gave Cliff a look that said “fuck you” and then totally focused her attention on the bag of food that sat in his lap. “Yeah, fuck you too,” Cliff snarled, but he did give the dog a gentle pat. He pulled a bag of potato crisps, a package of chocolate iced mini donuts, and a Heineken, out of the paper bag. Dinner. “We don’t have your mommy around to make sure that we eat balanced and nutritious meals,” Cliff said to the dog as he offered Queen Victoria a potato crisp. Unlike Geezer who would greedily nearly bite your hand off while taking food from you, Queen Victoria very politely plucked the potato crisp from Cliff’s fingertips. It daintily crunched between the dog’s tiny teeth. “I don’t have my Cecily around either,” chattered Cliff with his mouth full of potato crisps. He was getting crumbs all over the lovely needlepoint settee, but he didn’t really give a shit. After all, he wasn’t the one who had to clean them up. “Cecily always would try and take such good care of me,” Cliff babbled to the dog. “There’d be times when I’d be all hung over and she’d bring me a hot water bottle and shit. She’s such a good kid. I know that you like her a lot.” He gave Queen Victoria another potato crisp. “She’d love to have a little dog like you, but I highly doubt that your mommy would let you come home with Cecily…. unless I offered to buy you from her.” Cliff was getting so that he rather liked the quiet, little, dog. He gave her another potato crisp. She was a way tidier eater than Cliff was. Maybe Emily would let him buy Queen Victoria for Cecily. It would be a nice surprise for the girl. She’d love it. “You’d have to get along with Geezer though,” Cliff said as he watched Queen Victoria lick up the potato chip crumbs that were all over his denim bellbottoms. “And one thing for sure is,” he continued. “Geezer rules the house.” Queen Victoria squeaked, as she begged for some of Cliff’s chocolate mini donuts. “You can’t have any,” Cliff said as he held the donuts away from her. “Chocolate would kill a little motherfucker like you. I can’t believe that I’m spending my Friday night sitting around with my thumb up my ass and talking to a fucking dog.” Just then, he caught wind of a very astonishing and mind boggling sight. “Oh good Lord!” Cliff gasped. “He’s not honestly going to the wedding dress liked that… is he?” Kirk Hammett and his entourage of Cheyenne, Alejandra, Akane, some other random lovesick groupies, and a bewildered Evan, made their way through the lobby. Kirk was adorning a white silk suit with black, vertical, pinstripes on the pants and jacket, which elongated and slenderized his frame. The trim around the suit jacket’s collar and cuff sleeves was made from faux leopard skin. He was not wearing a shirt underneath the unbuttoned suit jacket, opting to show off his tight little abs and his coppery skin that still radiated and glowed from his day at the spa. A fantabulous white satin top hat that had a leopard print band around it to match the trim on his suit, sat perched upon his mound of tight ringlets that had so much gel in them that they appeared damp. White patent leather platform boots that had black trim on the heel and toe, black leather gloves, a black walking stick, and a couple of diamond encrusted dollar sign necklaces completed his outfit. “Hello there Cliff,” Kirk greeted as he made his way over to his friend. Cliff just stared at him. How could he not? The sad thing was that Kirk probably paid a small fortune for that outfit. “What’s with the necklaces?” Cliff asked in disgust. Kirk clutched one of the necklaces and frowned. “Why it’s my bling bling,” he replied. “Bling bling?” Cliff repeated. “You know,” said Kirk. “Accessories.” He smiled over at Cheyenne and kissed her hand. “After all,” he went on. “Who says that diamonds are just a girl’s best friend? I’d say that they could be a guy’s best friend too.” “I’m sorry Hamster but you look ridiculous,” Cliff replied. “You look like a pimped up Beetlejuice.” “Well you don’t exactly look like a fashion plate yourself Mr. Burton,” shot Kirk as he tossed his inky locks over his shoulder. “I’m not trying to be,” said Cliff. “Well good,” sniffled Kirk. “Because I most certainly am not going to take my fashion advice from someone wearing a Misfits shirt, a cowboy hat, and who carries a lapdog around as an accessory.” “The fucking dog ain’t no accessory!” squealed Cliff. “I’m dog sitting for Emily.” He caught Evan looking at him. The corners of his mouth were pressed into a tight, little, frown. Why the hell was Emily’s ex boyfriend babysitting their dog? Weren’t there any other dog sitter’s in all of London? Cliff noticed that Evan all decked out to the nines in his tailcoat. Another thing that Evan could do to make Cliff look bad: get all gussied up for his wedding. Cliff had never, ever, ever, ever, even considered wearing a tailcoat to any of his weddings to Emily. It was all that you could do to get him into a tux, let alone a fucking tailcoat. Evan had quite enough of hanging around with Cliff. “We should get going now,” he said to Kirk. “I don’t want to be late.” “I guess you’re right,” Kirk agreed. He turned to Cliff. “Maybe you could join us at the reception?” he asked. Cliff could see that Evan’s mouth had dropped open, as he scowled at Kirk. Kirk had the common sense of a prairie dog sometimes. “I don’t think that my presence would be appropriate at the reception,” he murmured softly. “Let’s go Kirk,” Evan said again. He began to pull Kirk away by the sleeve of his leopard print trimmed suit. Akane and Alejandra who were dressed in evening wear, followed behind them. “Bye Cliff,” Cheyenne said sweetly. She too was also dressed for the wedding. Was everybody in the fucking city of London attending this wedding except for Cliff? “You going to the wedding too?” he asked. Cheyenne nodded. “Evan invited me,” she replied. “Well that’s cozy,” Cliff snapped. He lit a cigarette. “He’s such a sweet man,” Cheyenne gushed. “Emily is so lucky. She really hit the jackpot when she met him. Goodnight Cliff.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then she hurried to catch up with her friends. Cliff found it quite amusing that Evan had invited his “fuck buddy” to the wedding. *** “I can’t believe that you asked Cliff if he wanted to go to the wedding reception!” Evan snapped at Kirk once they were in the limo and on their way to the church. “I just felt sorry for him,” Kirk said with a shrug. “He has no fashion sense at all. The shoes that he was wearing are so last year.” “Not to mention he has to watch the woman that he loves marry another man,” put in Cheyenne. “He gave her away,” said Evan. “He doesn’t deserve her. I’m actually happy that Cliff came over here to England, so that he can see me whisk Emily off of her feet… serves him right the bastard! Let him hurt. I don’t care. I hate him!” “Dude!” Kirk gasped as he whirled around to face Evan. “I will not condone hatred in any shape or form in my presence. My yoga instructor always says that hatred does nothing except stir up negative energy for you and for everyone who’s around you. I myself, try to live in a world of positive energy and good vibes.” He caressed Akane’s hands. “Isn’t that right Akane?” he asked. “Oh yes Kirk,” she replied. “Well you can go tell your yoga instructor that Cliff is the most vile, evil, and disgusting thing on this planet,” quipped Evan. “He makes my stomach churn.” “You’re hatred for Cliff is unhealthy,” said Kirk. “I think the next time that you see him, you should try giving him a hug.” “You couldn’t pay me to give that man a hug,” Evan snapped. “I don’t understand why you hate Cliff so much?” Kirk mused as he gazed out the limo’s window. “He can be a little “out there” at times, but he’s really a cool person, and he’s perfectly harmless. He fucking melts whenever he’s around Cecily. He even admitted to me once after a pitcher of beer in Atlanta, that he actually didn’t mind some of Cecily’s princess movies. Big deal, he drinks too much and smokes a lot of grass. He’s just a harmless hippie dude.” “He’s Emily’s ex,” said Evan. “So?” Kirk shot. “Nearly everybody on this planet has an ex out there somewhere. I’m sure that you have ex girlfriends Evan. Don’t you?” Evan nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. “And does Emily hate them with an unyielding passion?” Kirk asked. Evan just stared at him. Man, Kirk Hammett could be really annoying at times. He was like this happy, little, fairy God pixie that never seemed to go away. Finally he said “The difference between my exes and Emily’s ex, is that my ex girlfriends aren’t hanging around constantly,” he paused for a moment, and then went on. “I didn’t spend the entire two days before my wedding riding around with the ex girlfriend that I had right before Emily for three years, and I most certainly do not love any of my exes, nor do they love me.” The entire limo went silent. Even the driver was silent, listening intently. For once chatty, coffee hour, little, Kirk kept his mouth shut. He had no more words of wisdom from his yoga instructor to dole out. He knew that Evan was right. Unlike Evan, Emily still had feelings for her ex, and Kirk was positive that Cliff had those same feelings in return. What did puzzle Kirk was the fact that Evan seemed to know that Emily still loved Cliff. After about ten minutes of silence, Kirk cleared his throat and said “If you know that Emily is still in love with Cliff, why are you marrying her?” Evan glared at him. He was like a nosy mother hen that just wouldn’t go away, and he did look absolutely ridiculous in that outfit. He shrugged. “Because I love her,” he answered. “She may not love me yet. Actually, I’m positive that she doesn’t love me yet. I know that she still loves Cliff. I knew from the first moment that I saw them together, right after Cliff had arrived in England that they still loved each other. I could tell by the way that they looked at each other. But maybe over time, it may take a year, or even ten years, she may grow to love me, and look at me the same way that she looks at Cliff. I’m willing to wait for her, even if it takes twenty years. I love her that much.” “That has got to be one of the most romantic things that I’ve ever heard,” Kirk sighed dreamily. However, one person wasn’t finding it so romantic. There was a frown fixed upon Cheyenne’s pretty face. How could someone not love a consummate gentleman and dreamboat like Evan? “What if she never falls in love with you?” she challenged. A grave look transfixed upon Evan’s face as he glumly looked at the window. It was starting to turn into a beautiful, mild, midsummer’s evening. “She does bring up a point,” said Kirk. “You might be possibly marrying a woman who will never, ever, love you.” “It doesn’t matter,” Evan finally replied. “I don’t care.” “How could you not care?” Kirk pressed. “I don’t understand how you can be cool with marrying a chick that loves some other dude. I bet that when she makes love to you she imagines Cliff instead.” Evan glared at him. For two cents he’d throw Kirk Hamster right out of the limo. What was he even doing there in first place? Originally, the limo had been for Evan and his groom’s men, but somehow it had been taken over by Kirk and his harem of beautiful ladies. “I did that once,” Kirk admitted. “You imagined that you were making love to Cliff?” Alejandra asked, repulsed. “Well not Cliff,” replied Kirk. “But someone else that I loved at the time.” He turned to Evan. “You look like you could use a little huggage,” he said. “I need no such thing!” Evan retorted. “Maybe you just don’t understand, but being married to a woman who doesn’t love me is much better than not getting to have the woman that I love at all…. |
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| maisy blue | March 4, 2008, 12:57 am Post #432 |
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Some Kind Of Monster
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OH MY LORD Kirk is just so twee he makes me blush and look away in shame. Forget about Cecily, it's Kirk that needs a lolita dress. They actually have the cutest little outfits for guys, too- tophats, cropped pants, shiny shoes... Hamster would be in heaven!For some reason as I read this wonderful amazing piece of comedic fiction you have given us tonight, I imagined Metallica gathered around a computer screen and reading it, and howling with laughter at Hamster. I liked this chapter a lot, even though the crumbs on the settee made me want to lunge for my vacuum. Poor Cliff. He needs to get away from the area and try and forget the wedding, but I have a feeling he's not going to be able to do that. *crosses fingers* Mmmm donuts.... I CANNOT wait for the wedding. I love love love all this preparation (and love how you don't need to skip days like to me to make the story continue to flow) but I can't wait to see some shit go down! MORE SOON VERY SOON!! (I'd put in a dancing banana graphic, but for some reason the one on the left isn't dancing anymore. He's just standing there with his arms in the air.)
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| Lucifer's Angel | March 4, 2008, 9:58 am Post #433 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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That suits Kirk wore sounded terrible, he does look like a pimped up Beetlejuice And Evan is getting touchy there? Hmm, interesting And why are the girls going to the wedding? This is all so strange, I'm sure you have a surprise in store for us, Ashley. Cliff feeding Queen Victoria was funny as heck, she's a lot nicer than Geezer, I hope Geezer doesn't eat her
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| Verity | March 5, 2008, 1:22 am Post #434 |
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The Story Girl
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Chapter 120 “Hi Mr. Evan!” a little, shy, voice said. Evan whirled around to see Cecily looking very pretty indeed in her peach satin gown. “My!” he gasped. “You look gorgeous Cecily.” Cecily just stared at dreamy Mr. Evan. Of course she imagined him to blissfully handsome in his tailcoat, but nothing could prepare her for actually seeing him decked out to the nines and standing right in front of her. Her heart somersaulted, and butterflies fluttered around in her stomach. What if she should faint? She turned pale. “Are you alright Cecily?” Evan asked. Cecily was determined not to faint. She had done enough to create worry and upset for Emily, she was certainly not going to ruin her wedding day. “I’m fine Mr. Evan,” Cecily replied with a nod. “Just nervous.” “Don’t be nervous,” Evan said kindly as he gently touched her shoulder. “You’ll do fine. You’ll be the perfect maid of honor for Emily, and you’ll be the perfect stepdaughter for me.” “Thank you,” replied Cecily. She smiled, and looked down at her strappy, satin, shoes. She liked it that he referred to her as his “stepdaughter.” For a kid who had started out her life with no father, and a very lousy excuse for a mother, she had done quite well for herself. “Are you nervous?” she added shyly. “No,” Evan shook his head. “If anything, I’m excited. I’m excited because very shortly, I’ll be marrying the woman that I love, and want to spend the rest of my life with. This is the happiest day of my life.” Cecily immediately felt so ashamed for the staged disappearance fiasco that she had planned with Mr. Kirk. She had been so fucking selfish, only thinking about herself. Evan would move heaven and earth for her mom. He deserved to be happy. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Sorry?” Evan repeated. “Whatever for?” “For trying to make trouble between you and Mom,” answered Cecily. “I was being childish and stupid. You’re perfect for mom, and you love her so much. I wish you two all the best.” “Thank you Cecily,” said Evan. “I understand though. If my parents had split up, I probably would have done the same thing. But I’m very glad to have your approval. Your approval means the world to me.” He reached out and hugged her, Cecily happily hugging him back, burying her nose in his thick, black, tuxedo and taking in the smell of the heavy fabric. She could smell his aftershave. He smelled nice, like Kirk always did. But even though Evan smelled nice, Cecily still preferred the smell of pot and lemon verbena, the way her daddy smelled. One person who wasn’t so thrilled over the exchange was Evan’s mother. She had been watching the two of them in the back of the church. Having her son display such affection towards his soon-to-be wife’s ex boyfriend’s daughter was very, very, inappropriate. She must put a stop to it at once. “Sicily!” she barked. “Mum, its Cecily,” Evan corrected, still hugging the girl. “Either way it’s still a moronic name,” Mrs. Fitzgerald hissed. She grabbed Cecily by the shoulder, pulling her away from her son. “Shouldn’t you be with Emily right now?” she demanded at the girl. “You’re already being a worthless maid-of-honor. I told Emily that you would be too young to do a decent job.” “Mum, don’t be so hard on her,” said Evan. “Oh hush Evan!” his mother scolded. “It’s a disgrace that she’s even here.” “She gave us her blessing Mum,” Evan went on. “It was very sweet of her, and I’m proud to have a stepdaughter like Cecily.” “You talk like a ninny,” Mrs. Fitzgerald scoffed. She looked rather intimidating dressed in a salmon colored lace dress with a full shirt that hung in layers. An expense choker of pearls and diamonds was clasped around her neck. Her short hair had been styled into a very fashionable and professionally straightened bob. “You have no common sense in the least,” she went on. “You’re blinded by love at the moment, so you’ll say anything, but a few months from now when you have to buy Christmas presents for some other man’s daughter, you won’t be so happy to have a stepdaughter.” “Mum!” Evan cut her off. “Shut it.” “Yeah Mrs. Fitzgerald,” put in Cecily as she threw the old lady a smirk, and daintily stuck up her middle finger into the air. “Go fuck yourself.” *** Oh God not again, Queen Victoria thought as she watched Cliff rip open a bottle of bourbon with his teeth. Cliff spit out the bottle cap. It hit the lampshade, knocking it right off of the lamp. That’s all that this dude does is drink. Cliff plopped down at the desk in his hotel room, and poured himself a glass of bourbon. He chugged it, so much for not drinking tonight. He poured another glass and held it out towards Queen Victoria, whom he had deposited on top of the desk. “You have got to try this shit,” he murmured in very slow, half-slurred, speech. Queen Victoria wrinkled up her nose and pulled away from the vile smelling stuff. “Geezer would drink it,” Cliff goaded at her. “Hey, guess what Queen Tory…did you know that it’s Sir Geezer motherfucking Butler’s birthday today?” How could I forget? Queen Victoria thought sadly as she watched Cliff chug down another glass of bourbon as he toasted the bass god. He’s slowly killing himself, she thought. He loves Emily, and I know that Emily still loves him. I just have to do something before it’s too late. Queen Victoria swiftly leapt off of the desk and onto the floor. She began to drag her butt around on the carpet, while squeaking. “What the fuck is the matter with yah?” Cliff shrieked as he took a swig of bourbon. He had now graduated to drinking it straight from the bottle. “Your anal glands plugged?” Queen Victoria shook her head, as she still proceeded on with dragging her butt around. She yipped at him. “You take some bad shrooms?” Cliff asked as he lit up a cigarette, and watched the dog in amusement. “I’ve done that a couple of times. It made my piss turn blue.” Queen Victoria shook her head again. This time, she let out a forceful bark. Cliff jumped up from his chair. He was a long, lumbering, intimidating figure in those bellbottoms and cowboy hat, at least to a little five pound dog he was. “I can’t help you, if you don’t tell me what the fuck you want?” Cliff snapped. Queen Victoria began to scratch at the hotel room door. “Don’t tell me that you have to piss and shit again!” Cliff roared. “Jesus! I just fucking had you out ten minutes ago! You fucking piss more often than a pregnant woman!” Cliff sighed as he began to hunt around the room for his hideous deerskin jacket. In all of the mess he couldn’t find it, so he opted for one of his tattered, older-than-the-hills, denim ones instead. Queen Victoria began to bounce around excitedly as Cliff put his jacket on, and grabbed his cigarettes, wallet, and room key. She again began to scratch at the door. “Knock it off!” Cliff yelled at the dog. “You’ll scratch the fuck out of that door, and I won’t get my security deposit back.” And who smashed the mirror in the bathroom, spilled a full bottle of wine all over the carpet, and broke a lamp in here? thought Queen Victoria as she pranced about at his feet. Cliff bent down and scooped Queen Victoria up into his arms. He nestled the dog in his jacket and made his way out of the room, down the hall, and to the elevators. “I can’t believe that I’m taking you outside again,” he groaned as the elevator slowly made its way to the lobby. “I’m only doing this because I care about your mommy. In all honesty, I don’t really give a shit if you piss and shit all over my hotel room. I’m only going to be in there for one more day anyway, and that whiny little Mexican or Spanish, or whatever the fuck she is bitch of Kirk’s can clean it up. The room already smells like ass as it is.” The elevator happily chimed as it reached the lobby. Cliff and Queen Victoria made their way out into the lobby, and outside of the hotel. About a half a block down the street there was a good size square of grass, just perfect for a little dog to piss all over. Cliff carefully set Queen Victoria down in it so that she could do her business. She squatted as she watched Cliff reach into the pockets of his jacket and pull out his lighter and cigarettes. As soon as he turned away to light the cigarette, Queen Victoria lunged her carefully thought out plan into action. She took off. She took off like a bolt of lightning down the street. “Hey!” Cliff yelped as he immediately dropped his cigarette. “Come back here you little fucker!” He took off running after her, but Queen Victoria was a tiny, little, dog. It was very easy for her to blend in or get lost. It was a gorgeous summer evening, so there was quite the bustle of people about on the London streets. Cliff would lose sight of her for a while, but then she’d reappear again up ahead of him. Cliff ran as fast as his denim clad legs would take him, but he was still no match for a fast and wily little pup. “Come back!” he cried as he tore down the street, his hair flying about. “You come back here right now you motherfucker! Do you think that this is funny?” Many onlookers stopped to stare at the very strange sight of a figure in bellbottoms, a cowboy hat, and a Misfits shirt, tearing frantically down the street yelling obscenities at a lapdog. As if she were in a giant pinball game, Queen Victoria darted through the crowds of happy, London, nightlife. Every so often she would check to make sure that Cliff was still behind her, though she didn’t need to check. She could hear him spewing a thick web of profanity into the summer twilight air. Cliff Burton had done little to no physical exercise in over eight years. His biggest workouts were thrashing about with his bass, or walking up to the local seven eleven for cigarettes. He wasn’t in any kind of shape at all, plus he was a thirty-year-old man. He just couldn’t keep up with a spry, little, dog. “Where in the Sam heck did the little fucker learn to run so fast?” Cliff asked himself as he so desperately tried to keep up. SPLAT!!!!! Cliff tumbled hard onto the ground, smashing his knees, elbow, and chin into the pavement. He had tripped over a brick, and because his jeans were littered with holes in the knees, his skin had made contact with the concrete. He had a huge scrape on his knee, and it was oozing blood. Not to mention he also scraped and bruised up his chin, and the palms of his hands. “OUCH!!!!!!!” Cliff bellowed as he lay in a tangled web of long hair and denim in the middle of the busy sidewalk. Meanwhile, Queen Victoria was able to get really far ahead of him because Cliff was stopped. She disappeared out of sight. “Damn it!” he groaned as he clutched his knee in pain. The evening was rather hot and muggy, and his long hair was plastered to the back of his neck. He also had a stitch in the side of his stomach, the kind that you get from running on a stomach full of potato crisps and bourbon. He felt like complete shit, but the main reason that he felt so terrible was because while under his care Queen Victoria had ran away. Emily and Cecily would never forgive him, not ever. He had let his two girls down, and it upset him more than anything in the entire world. With the back side of his denim sleeve he wiped his nose, and stood up. He was not going to give up that easily. Emily and Cecily loved that little dog, and he was going to bring Queen Victoria back safe and sound to them, no matter what it took. His knee was still bleeding and it stung madly, along with his chin and elbows, but he forgot about it. Getting Queen Victoria back to his girls was more important. He started running again. He had only been running for about a few minutes when he caught sight of Queen Victoria once again. She was still up ahead of him, but she was standing there, staring at him. It was almost as if she had been purposely waiting for him. “Is this some sort of a sick game?” Cliff roared as he lumbered after her. As soon as he began to approach her, Queen Victoria took off running again like a caramel colored blaze. She had waited too long. He almost had caught her. Without even thinking, she darted into the street to cross to the other side. A big, black, delivery truck was happily making its way through the street. Cliff saw it at once. He knew that Queen Victoria was fucked. “Queen Victoriaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” he yelped. He lunged into the street to go after the little dog that was right in the line of the delivery truck. Queen Victoria was much too small to be seen by the truck’s driver. “Whoa, there feller!” said a voice. A policeman had grabbed Cliff by his denim jacket and had pulled him out of the street just in the nick of time. The truck cruised by, the air from it furling through Cliff’s long hair. It left nothing behind except a cloud of thick, gray, dust. “Shit!” Cliff screeched as he violently kicked a stone. “You were almost killed,” the policeman scolded. “It’s not worth risking your life for some little dog.” “You don’t understand,” Cliff returned. “That dog belongs to my, to my, to my, girlfriend,” he blurted out. “And to my daughter too.” “That’s brutal,” replied the policeman. “Here’s a word of advice: go down to the pet shop and buy one that looks just like it. They’ll never know the difference.” Cliff scowled. Was every policeman in London a total chode? With legs that felt like rubber, and a heart that felt like a ball of lead, Cliff sat down on a bench, and gazed out at the empty street. He wasn’t sure if Queen Victoria had made it or not. One thing for sure was that he had lost her for good…. |
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| Metalicious | March 5, 2008, 7:51 am Post #435 |
Blackened
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I...have a lot of catching up to do. Cinder-Dave made me want to read more of your stuff, and damn woman, you're pretty effing prolific. So now I'm just attempting to get up to speed. But I'm liking what I see so far, and can't wait until I'm actually caught up so I can leave proper feedback! |
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LOL.
I don't blame her for acting neurotic, that had to be a huge stress for her
, I loved their 'team spirit'
.....




Bad Cliff!, and stupid Lars
Kirk is just so twee he makes me blush and look away in shame. Forget about Cecily, it's Kirk that needs a lolita dress. They actually have the cutest little outfits for guys, too- tophats, cropped pants, shiny shoes... Hamster would be in heaven!

8:42 PM Jul 10