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Daughter of the Year; Ze Sequel to Father of the Year
Topic Started: December 14, 2007, 12:15 am (11,156 Views)
Simone
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Mistress of Puppets
[ * ]
woooooow!! Jackson and Scott :horns: Jackson must've been really nervous :lol: Cliff is going to faint when he hears that Jackson really,really likes Cecily :tardlol

Can't wait to see his reaction :lol: Verity,this one really rocks! I'm so happy that it's soo great! You have a writing skill that few people have

Rock on :horns: :heart: :horns2
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Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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I liked the conversation between Jackson and Scott. Cool, he collects Transformers and comic books? Erik collects Gundam wing kits and manga, he keeps running out of room to put them, so sends them to us. If anyone wants several fifty pound boxes of manga in Japanese, please let me know :rolleyes:
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Simone- glad that you still like this, even though I thought that the last chapter was a bit strange. :lol: Hopefully you will like this one as well.

Vanessa- I understand about dudes collecting a bunch of shit. My Husband has one entire room in our new house for his action figures collection. Mostly he has Transformers and He-Man. Oh well, I get my own room too for my office, so I guess he gets one for his toys.



Chapter Twenty-Five


“Alright Cecily it’s your turn,” said Cliff. “Let’s see if you can guess this one.”

He began to sing the melody of a song, no lyrics, while thrashing around and playing air guitar at the same time, using the fishing pole that he was carrying as his guitar.

“Daddy that’s an easy one,” said Cecily. “You’re doing Angelfuck by the Misfits.”

“Right you are,” said Cliff as he slung his fishing pole back over his shoulder.

Cliff and Cecily had this silly game that they played where one person would try and sing the melodies of various songs that they both knew and loved, and the other would try and guess it. Cliff was usually way better at singing the melodies than Cecily was because he had played most of them on bass. This always gave her an advantage, but Cliff didn’t really care. He was just happy to have a daughter who could guess any Misfits song. They had just come in from a morning of fishing together out on the lake. They didn’t catch anything, but neither cared. Cliff was happy to have some time alone with Cecily before she went off jet setting to England, and Cecily was happy to spend time with her Dad without nasty, bitchy, Clarisse around to ruin things. So far, Clarisse hadn’t moved from the beach towel that she was lying upon sunning herself. She had no interest in anything that White Rock had to offer. She was only concerned with working on her tan.

“Since I’ve guessed all of them right do you think that maybe this afternoon we could take the canoe and show Jackson the white rock?” Cecily asked.

“I think that you guys could,” said Cliff. “But ask James or Scott to go with you.”

“But Mr. James and Mr. Scott went off to get supplies for tonight’s bonfire. They aren’t here. I don’t imagine that Clarisse would take us.”

“You got that right,” Cliff chuckled. “She hasn’t moved her ass from the beach all day, which is fine with me because damn, she looks fine.” He began to lick his lips at the very thought of Clarisse in her hot orange bikini, that gave a plentiful, and generous view of her ass cheeks.

Cecily rolled her eyes. She could care less about Clarisse and her tits, and her ass, and her little bikini.

“Why can’t you take us Daddy?” asked Cecily. “I’d much rather go with you. You could tell us the story about the Native Americans, and we could bring the radio and play the Misfits.”

“I’d love to go with you Cess,” Cliff replied. “Especially if we brought along the Misfits.” He set down his fishing pole, and yanked her close. He pulled off the straw hat that she was wearing, and messed with her long, curly, hair. “You little crazy angel fuck!” he laughed. “I love you Cecily.”

“I love you too Daddy,” Cecily replied. “That’s why I want you to go with us. Please Daddy?”

“I just can’t go this afternoon,” Cliff answered. “I actually have to go to town for a little while to do some shit.”

“Could I go with you?” Cecily asked, perking up. She loved a long car ride with her Dad. They’d play war with the radio. Cliff was always trying to play the Misfits or some long, morbid, thing by Bach, and Cecily always wanted to listen to The Doors.

“Cecily, you just got here,” said Cliff. “Don’t you want to spend time at White Rock?”

“There’s plenty of time for White Rock,” answered Cecily. “Especially since Mr. James is going to build us a bonfire tonight. I don’t mind going into town this afternoon. Really I don’t. Wouldn’t you like some company?”

“Cecily,” Cliff said sternly.

“Why don’t you want me to go?” Cecily asked. She shoved out her bottom lip in her classic pout that usually got her anything that she wanted. It had even gotten her adopted.
“Don’t you like spending time with me?” she pressed.

“I love spending time with you,” replied Cliff. “That’s why I spent the entire morning with you. But I have something important that I need to do. If I could take you with me, I would, but I can’t. And you wouldn’t want to go. Trust me.”

“Why not?” Cecily whined.

“Cecily, I just can’t. It’s personal. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay here, and if James and Scott can’t take you, you can’t go canoeing with Jackson. You know the rules. I can’t have you two kids out gallivanting off alone together.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Cecily asked.

“I don’t know Cecily,” Cliff sighed annoyed. “Go pretend that you’re the Lady of Shalott, or paint me a Misfits picture, or go thump your twat or something.”

“But I want to go with you,” Cecily whined. “Please take me Daddy.”

“Come on Cecily,” Cliff said. “I won’t be gone for long.” He lifted her chin up with the tip of his finger, so that she had to look right at him. He knew that he should really level with her, and let her know what he was doing, after all, it was going to greatly affect her.

“Where are you going?” she asked, still using a whiny tone of voice.

Cliff took a heavy sigh. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Let’s go over here for a minute,” he said. “I have to ask you something.”

He led her over to the shore of the lake. It was covered with small stones, the kind that were just perfect for skipping across the water.

He picked two stones off of the ground, and handed one over to Cecily. The other, he threw across the smooth palette of the lake. It skipped across, delicately skimming the surface of the water, before sinking down with a loud kerplunk.

“Cecily,” he said finally. “I’m thinking about making a change to our family.”

“Are you adopting a kid from Cambodia?” Cecily asked.

Cliff made a face. “Fuck no,” he replied. “You’re fucking expensive enough.” He went on. “I’ll admit that I made a mistake with Emily, and because of my stupidity I lost her. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. I want to make Clarisse officially part of the family. I want to marry her, and I’m going to do it, and this time I’m not going to bullshit around. I’m going to take the plunge, and do it for real. You need a mother Cecily, you really do. I owe you one.”

Cecily dropped her stone. She had known it was coming, but still it didn’t hit her until he had actually said it.

“I’m going into town this afternoon to meet Kirk,” Cliff rambled on. “He’s going to help me pick out a suitable engagement ring, since Emily always said that my skull rings were tacky.”

“Daddy!” Cecily gasped. “No! You can’t marry Clarisse!”

“I can marry whoever I please,” Cliff replied hotly. “I’m thirty years old.”

“I know!” answered Cecily. “And that’s the problem. Daddy, she’s nineteen! She’s old enough to be my older sister. She’s no mother to me, and she never will be.”

“Cess, that’s not fair,” said Cliff. “Don’t judge her by her age. She’s a very mature nineteen-year-old, and I love her.”

“But she hates me,” Cecily whined.

“You haven’t exactly been daughter of the year to her Cecily,” Cliff returned. “You’ve treated her like shit. You girls are both going to have to open up your minds and be nicer to each other. That goes for you and to Clarisse as well.”

Cecily was too distraught to even to burst into tears. She stared over at the lake with glassy eyes. Even its beauty couldn’t pull her out of the morbid hell that she was now feeling. She would never have Cliff and Emily together again. She knew it when Emily had gotten engaged, but now it really hit her because her Dad was going to go marry Clarisse. After six years of living together, Emily couldn’t get him to marry her, but Clarisse had done it. If Clarisse could convince Cliff to get married, then she could definitely convince him to send her away to some dreadful boarding school.

“I want you to be in the wedding Cecily,” Cliff said kindly as he reached out and touched her hair. “You’ll get another nice, new, formal gown. Wouldn’t you like that?”

For once, Cecily could care less about fancy gowns. She would rather have Cliff and Emily her parents, back together again. She pulled away from him.

“Cecily,” Cliff said again. He wished that she would say something, just something to let him know that she was cool with it all. Cecily couldn’t even look at him. “Cecily, I need you to tell me that you’re down with this. Come on Princess. Please give me your blessing, or whatever the fuck it is that you’re supposed to give to me.”

Cecily finally looked up at him. Tears glistened in her eyes like shiny pearls. They were at White Rock, one of her favorite places in the entire world. Shit like this wasn’t supposed to happen at White Rock.

“I can’t,” she said faintly.

“Cecily, I adopted you and raised you as my own,” said Cliff flatly. “I love you as if you were my own blood. Don’t you want to see me happy? Don’t I deserve that?”

“You do deserve it Daddy,” answered Cecily. “But you deserve someone better than Clarisse.”

“It don’t get much better than Clarisse,” Cliff returned. “I mean, you’ve seen her tits Cess.”

“But you could do so much better!” Cecily argued. “Daddy, she doesn’t love you. She says that you’re a lousy parent, and a lousy dresser, who’s only good at smoking pot and making money. That’s all that she wants from you is your money. She’s a gold digger.”

“She’s right,” Cliff snapped as he lit a cigarette. “I am a lousy parent. I’ve raised an ungrateful, spiteful, brat! I’m really disappointed in you Cecily. Not only are you spouting off bullshit about Clarisse, the woman that I love, but you are also being hurtful towards me too. Clarisse loves me for me, and for who I am. I can’t believe that you would try and hurt me this way. Fuck you Cecily Burton! You can go to hell!”

Cliff flipped her off and then stalked away, leaving Cecily alone on the beach. A cool breeze played with her hair. It wasn’t by any means a cold breeze, but Cecily felt cold. She immediately started to run back towards the house. She just wanted to be in her room alone. On her way up the stairs, she ran smack right into Francesca, who was coming down the stairs.

“Heavens child!” she exclaimed. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I hope that you didn’t go poking about in the haunted house across the street. Your Father told you to stay away from there.”

Cecily took a deep breath, fighting with all of her mite to hold back her tears. She didn’t want James’s new girlfriend to see her crying. “I’m just a little upset right now,” she replied softly.

Francesca gave her a hug. Cecily noticed that she smelled like roses. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said kindly. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Cecily shook her head. There was only one person in the entire world that she wanted to talk to right now, and she was half a world away. And she was getting married as well. Emily would probably start her own new family with this Evan dude, and forget all about her.

“Well,” said Francesca, not quite sure what to do with the clearly forlorn and upset creature that was in front of her. “How about you go try on your beautiful maid of honor gown for me, and I’ll pin it up?” she asked.

Cecily nodded. She knew that Francesca was hemming the gown for her just to be nice, because James had asked her to, and she didn’t want to give her a hard time. In reality the last thing that Cecily wanted to do was think about more fucking weddings. Usually, Cecily would be thrilled to have any excuse to parade around in a beautiful dress in the middle of the afternoon, but today all that the maid of honor gown did was remind her that not even wild horses could bring her two parents together again….





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Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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NOOO! Cliff, you idiot, listen to your daughter! :angry
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Chapter Twenty-Six


“Oh Cecily look at you!” Francesca exclaimed as Cecily made her way into The Pottawatomie Room where Francesca had agreed to pin her dress for her. “You look beautiful. The dress is just a little too long, but that’s where I come in.”

Even though Cecily was a bit younger than Emily’s other bridesmaids, Emily had picked a style of dress that would look good on an adult and on a young girl. The dress was a pale peachy cream color, and made from matte satin (whatever the fuck that is, it just sounds good). It had a halter neckline and a full, gathered, skirt that went all the way down to the floor in cascades of peach satin. At the waist, there was a champagne colored sash that fastened in the back with a cream colored rose.

Usually flouncing around in a sea of matte satin was enough to send Cecily on an acid trip, but today she said nothing as she stepped up on the stool for Fran to pin her dress.

“You look pretty,” Francesca said as she smoothed the puffy, gathered, skirt out.

“Thank you,” Cecily mumbled glumly.

“I was a bridesmaid once,” Fran babbled as she searched around for her pincushion. “I didn’t get to wear as nice of a dress as you do though. My friend had picked out these dresses that were just horrid. They were powder blue, and they had these short skirts kind of like a ballet tutu that had feathers on them. Whoever designed those dresses should be shot.”

She got no reaction from Cecily.

“You must be so excited about going to England,” Francesca went on. “And you get to attend a big, fancy, wedding. Won’t that be fun?”

“It’ll be a blast,” Cecily said sarcastically.

Just then, Jackson went strolling by The Pottawatomie Room. The door was open, and Cecily had her back to him. He could see that she was wearing a fancy gown, and that Francesca was buried underneath it somewhere, pinning it.

“Hi Cecily,” he said cheerfully. “You want to go for a walk?”

“I can’t right now,” replied Cecily.

“She’ll be done in a minute,” said Francesca. She turned Cecily around so that she faced Jackson, and quickly pinned Cecily’s mop of curls up, so that they were away from her face, neck, and shoulders. Jackson’s mouth dropped open. He had never seen Cecily with her hair up, nor had he ever seen her in anything besides jeans and a various band T-shirt with a crazy hat.

“Doesn’t she look like a princess?” Fran asked as she played with Cecily’s hair.

“She looks very pretty,” Jackson admitted. He looked down, so that no one would notice that he was blushing. Cecily blushed as well. It felt good to have Jackson’s approval. It was the first time ever that a boy other than Cliff, Kirk, or James, had told her that she was pretty. She wasn’t used to it, especially after no one had wanted to dance with her at her first school dance.

“Thanks,” she mumbled shyly.

Clarisse had finally managed to tear her ass away from sunbathing out on the beach. She was still in her little orange bikini, and she gave Jackson quite a show as she came up next to him, for the cups on her bikini top barely covered up her pups.

“Why the hell does she have that thing on?” Clarisse asked as she pointed at Cecily. “Playing dress up at this hour?”

“She’s trying it on so that I can pin the hem,” Francesca explained. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

Clarisse didn’t respond. Seeing a bridesmaid dress made her wish even more that Cliff would put a ring on her finger, so that she could get on with planning her own wedding. One thing that was for sure was that Cecily would not be in it.

“I think that having a twelve-year-old be your maid of honor is completely insane,” said Clarisse. “It’s too much of a responsibility.”

“You stand there and hold flowers,” said Francesca. “It’s not exactly brain surgery.”

“They also have to hold onto the ring,” said Clarisse in a know-it-all tone. “I wouldn’t trust a mere child with a wedding ring.”

“I’m not going to lose Emily’s ring,” Cecily vowed. She’d like to. Then Emily wouldn’t be able to marry Evan, but she would never do something like that to her.

“If you ask me, that dress is far too fancy for a child to wear,” Clarisse scoffed.

“I’m not a child anymore,” Cecily said stiffly.

“You sure act like one,” Clarisse spat. “Anyway, when you’re done dicking around playing dress up, you can go outside and bring in my beach towel, umbrella, and chair. Make sure to clean the sand off of them, so that I can use it again tomorrow.” She gave Cecily a smirk. “And your Daddy put me in charge,” she went on. “So you have to do what I say, like it or not. I actually have to run into town for a little while, but I want my beach stuff brought in by the time that I get back.”

“Oh!” Francesca gasped. “I forgot toothpaste. Do you think that you could pick some up for me?”

Clarisse just looked at her. “I won’t have the time,” she replied. “I’m busy.”

“Busy doing what?” asked Francesca.

Clarisse didn’t reply. She gave Francesca and Cecily an annoyed look, and then flounced off to get ready for her outing.

“What’s her problem?” Francesca wondered aloud as she finished pinning Cecily’s dress. “James made it sound as if she was the best thing since control top panty hose, but I think she’s kind of mean. Perhaps I’m being a bit judgmental, maybe it’s just PMS.”

“No,” answered Cecily. “It’s not. She always that way.”

She couldn’t hold back any longer. She broke down into tears right in front of Francesca, and in front of Jackson.

“Cecily what’s wrong?” Francesca asked as she took the crying girl in her arms. “You can tell us. Don’t let Clarisse bother you.”

“I can’t help it,” Cecily sobbed. “My Daddy is going to marry her, and I hate her. I hate her more than anyone or anything in the entire world. I hate her even more than Claudia, which is saying a lot.”

“Was Claudia another one of your Dad’s girlfriends?” Fran asked.

Cecily shook her head. “No,” she sniffled through tears.

“Who is she?” Jackson and Fran asked in unison.

“Claudia was my birth mother,” Cecily wailed. “She hates me too, and I hate her, but really I think that I hate Clarisse even more.”

Francesca wasn’t sure what to say. For such a young girl, Cecily had a lot of hate bottled up in her. She tried to lighten up the mood a little.

“According to James, your Dad won’t settle down and marry anybody,” said Fran. “He’s not a marrying man. What makes you think that he’ll actually marry her?”

“He’s buying her a ring,” Cecily answered. “He’s out right now shopping for a ring with Mr. Kirk.”

“Are you sure Cecily?” Jackson asked.

Cecily nodded, burying her face in Francesca so that Jackson wouldn’t see her crying.

“Maybe you’ll find that she really isn’t so bad,” Fran said gently. “She’s probably just uptight around you because she’s nervous. I’m sure that in time, you two will get closer, especially if she is your stepmother.”

Cecily just shook her head. “When hell freezes over,” she replied. She wiped her eyes and made her way back to her bedroom. Jackson wished that there was something that he could do to help. He remembered what Scott Ian had told him about always being there for her, and helping her in her time of need. An idea started to form in his mind. Perhaps he could help her.

In her room, Cecily changed out of her pretty maid of honor dress and back into her jeans.

“Why did you have to go out and get engaged Emily?” Cecily said as she put the dress back on its hanger. “Don’t you know that I need you? Don’t you know that Cliff needs you?”

Cecily put on her sandals, grabbed her sunglasses, and made her way back outside and down to the beach. She plopped down on the edge of the dock. Not even the calm, glistening spread of the lake could console her. Not only was her Dad marrying a woman that she couldn’t stand, but he was also marrying a woman who didn’t really love him, at least not for the right reasons. She had also offended him when she had told him that Clarisse was a gold digger. She had never meant to hurt her Dad. What if Cliff hated her now too? What if he sent her away? Last summer Cliff and Emily had been so happy together at White Rock, or at least they had seemed very happy. Why did Emily leave? Where the hell did this Evan dude come from? What had gone wrong? Was it something that Cecily had done?

“Hey Cecily,” said Jackson as he came up behind her and plopped down right next to her.

“I’m really sorry about your Dad marrying that Clarisse bitch,” he continued. “I know what it’s like to have your parents remarry, and it is weird, especially at first. When my Mom got remarried, we got a new house because she wanted to have her own home with my Step Dad that they bought together. I had to change schools in the middle of the semester, and it really sucked ass.”

“I think that my Dad might send me away,” said Cecily. “If he does send me away, would you take my pearl bead ring and deliver it to my friend Mandie? She’s my best friend in the entire world, but her mother won’t let me hang around with her anymore because I got her intoxicated by accident. It’s deeply tragic. I’ll never get over it. I want her to have the pearl bead ring to remember me by.”

“Sure, whatever, but your Dad is never going to send you away Cecily,” Jackson said sincerely. “If I even look at you, he’s ready to come at me with a shot gun. He loves you, he’s proud of you. He’d cut his hair before he sends you away.”

Cecily smiled. “He’ll never cut his hair,” she said. “Mr. Kirk says that he doesn’t have the bone structure for short hair.”

“Silly Mr. Kirk,” Jackson laughed. “Hey I was doing some thinking, and I though that maybe we could have some fun with your Dad’s little fuck toy.”

“You mean Clarisse?” Cecily asked.

Jackson nodded, a mischievous grin appearing on his face. Cecily found that grin insanely attractive. She felt a rush of giddiness come over her. “The only way to have fun with Clarisse would be to ship her off to bumfuck Siberia,” she said.

“Well we can’t send her off to Siberia, but we could make her wish that she was sent there.”

“Ooh I’m intrigued,” said Cecily. “Do carry on.”

“I overheard her bitching to Scott Ian about a house fly that was flying around in the kitchen this morning. She was going ape shit screaming, and she made him go swat at it or else she was going to call in a professional exterminator. If she’s that much of a pussy over a stupid house fly, Lord knows what she’d do if she ever encountered some real, hard ass bugs.”

“You mean like spiders,” said Cecily. “Or tics. I’d love to see a giant, pussy, tic hanging from her peroxide laden hair.”

“Well then,” Jackson replied as he got up and offered Cecily his hand so that he could help her up. “We’ve got some work to do. Shall we?”

Cecily took his hand eager to get to work. Since Cliff and Clarisse were both gone, it would be very easy to go fuck with her shit. James and Scott were also gone. They were under Francesca’s supervision, but Francesca seemed more interested in the trashy romance smut novel that she was reading, instead of supervising two adolescents.

They scurried about the house getting the supplies that they needed, before heading back outside with Geezer in tow.

“Where are you guys going?” Francesca asked, not looking up from her book.

“We’re taking Geezer for a walk,” Jackson replied innocently.

“Well just remember that Cliff said that you two are not to engage in sexual intercourse,” said Francesca.

“Oh yes,” said Cecily. “Like we’re really going to go outside and fuck right out on the beach in front of everyone.”

“I hope not,” replied Francesca. “You’ll get sand up in your crotch, and that’s certainly not a very pleasant feeling.”

Jackson and Cecily exchanged an all knowing look. Sand in her crotch. Another brilliant idea!

Once they were outside Cecily asked

“Where are we going to find really disgusting bugs?”

“Right here,” said Jackson. He bent over a sizable log and lifted it up, displaying a plethora of worms, beetles, and a slimy garden slug.

“Disgusting enough for you?” he asked.

Cecily nodded, looking away. She wasn’t particularly fond of bugs herself, except for ladybugs. She liked ladybugs.

She watched as Jackson carefully picked them up with his bare hands and dropped them into the jar they had brought along. “We need to find a toad too,” he said as he worked. “We’ll make Miss Clarisse a nice, healthy, picnic lunch for her to take out with her while she goes out and tries to give herself skin cancer tomorrow. I just think that a toad would add a bit of extra flavor. There,” he said as he placed the lid back onto the jar. “We definitely have enough creepy crawlers. She’s going to fucking piss herself. Now we just have to dust her beach chair and towel with some sugar water, so that when she sun bathes she’ll attract a ton of flies and critters.”

“Just like a piece of shit,” laughed Cecily.

“Which she is,” added Jackson. “We mustn’t forget about sand in her crotch. Shit. I get to play around with a chick’s bikini. Did you get it?”

Cecily nodded. “She left it hanging on the hook inside the bathroom door,” she replied.
“We’re being evil, but Clarisse deserves it.”

“Hey I’m just helping a friend in need,” replied Jackson.

“Thank you,” replied Cecily. “I really appreciate you doing all of this for me, especially since Clarisse has never done anything bad to you.”

“Of course she has,” said Jackson as he began to slather the arms and legs of Clarisse’s beach chair in sugary water laced with honey to make it sticky. “She doesn’t respect you Cecily, and she treats you like dirt.” he said.

“So?” Cecily shrugged as she carefully brushed sugar-honey-water on Clarisse’s beach umbrella. “She hates me, but she hasn’t done anything to you.”

“She upsets you,” answered Jackson. “You’re my friend, and I don’t like it when people mess with my friends.”

“Thank you Jackson,” said Cecily. She went back to carefully brushing the sugar water all over Clarisse’s umbrella. He watched her for a few moments, her very long wavy hair hanging down over her face. He could notice faint highlights running through it, brought out by the sun. A strange emotion that he had never had before came over him, and he found himself desperately wanting to pull Cecily into his arms and kiss her.

“Cecily,” he said nervously.

“Hmm?” Cecily replied, not looking up from her work.

Never mind," said Jackson looking down. "It's nothing…”





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Simone
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Mistress of Puppets
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CLIFF: 'What's that Jackson??? You want to kiss my daughter?? And then you want to fuck her brains out and impregnate her?? That's what you want you little fucker??" BOOM! :tardlol

Damn,these chapters at White Rock are awesome! I can even imagine Clarisse when she'll attract bugs and flies and shit :lol:
'Just like a shit' :lol: that was sooo hilarious!!!!
Tomorrowwwww!!!! More chapters!! yay!!!! :horns:
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Lucifer's Angel
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Hah, I hope Clarisse gets sand in her crotch, serves her right :nanner: Cliff better come to his senses, everyone hates her :angry
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Simone- You made me laugh. :lol: :lol: Fortunately for Jackson, he behaved himself.

Vanessa- I can't remember which chapter that Clarisse finally gets the sand in her crotch. I think it's the next one, or maybe the one after.


Here's a little more for you before I head off to work. :dance



Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Holy fuck,” Jackson said to himself as he watched James motherfucking Hetfield and Scott ass kicker Ian, work on building a gigantic bonfire right out on the beach. He couldn’t believe it. All of his friends would be so envious when they heard that he got to share a beach front home with two, actually three counting Cliff, very influential voices in the world of heavy metal. And here they all were slaving away to build a bonfire for mostly his amusement.

Cliff returned from his engagement ring shopping outing. He was surprised to see that Clarisse was gone.

“She went into town,” Francesca told him. “I’m not quite sure why, whatever it was it seemed important, so important that she couldn’t even stop and get me a tube of toothpaste.”

“She’ll be gone the rest of the fucking evening,” mumbled Cliff. “She’s good at pulling this shit. I don’t think that she was down with the idea of having a bonfire, so it’s her way of avoiding it.”

He noticed Cecily sitting over on the floor of the screen porch with Geezer. She was playing a game of battleship with Jackson. She didn’t look at or even acknowledge Cliff’s return.

Cliff grabbed his cigarettes and headed towards the door.

“Where the fuck are you going?” James asked a pile of firewood in his arms. “We need your help with the bonfire.”

“Fuck it,” Cliff answered. “I’m taking my dog for a walk.” He grabbed Geezer’s leash. At the sound of the leash jingling, Geezer got up from his corner next to Cecily, and galumphed over towards Cliff. Cecily gave Cliff a dirty look.

“He’s my dog too Cecily,” Cliff sneered. “After all, I pay his vet bill.”

As soon as he was outside, Cliff lit up a cigarette and took Geezer for a stroll down the beachfront. He wasn’t quite sure what to think, but one thing that he knew for certain was that his relationship with Cecily was now strained, and it never had been before. He knew that she wasn’t going to be happy when he broke the news about wanting to propose to Clarisse. That was no surprise at all. What really bothered him was the fact that Cecily had tried to hurt him by telling him that Clarisse was only after his money, and didn’t love him. How could she say such a hateful thing? Clarisse loved him, didn’t she?

He threw a stick for Geezer to fetch, but instead, Geezer just stood there giving his master a blank stare. He wasn’t the smartest dog in the world. He really wished that Clarisse could get used to him so that he could live inside the house again. It wasn’t Geezer’s fault that he had a bad skin condition. He knew that he and Clarisse didn’t have very much in common, but didn’t opposites attract? She hated heavy metal, actually she wasn’t that fond of music in general, and Cliff really wasn’t into her carrot fig smoothies, and he found working out at the gym everyday painfully boring. He’d much rather spend his spare time getting stoned out of his mind while watching Tales from the Crypt, and drinking his way through an entire case of Heineken.

He knew that if he was going to marry Clarisse he would have to change somewhat. He knew that she couldn’t stand the way that he dressed, and she hated the Native American stuff. He knew that Emily wasn’t too fond of it either, but at least she tolerated it, and would even make jokes about it. Cliff remembered how she always referred to their house as The Reservation, and how whenever he’d have his pot smoking buddies over she always referred to it as a pow-wow. And she even bought him that Native American hand woven throw rug that he had wanted so very badly for his birthday.

I wonder what Emily is doing right now? Cliff thought as he tugged on Geezer’s leash. “Probably going down on that Evan dude. I can’t believe that she thinks that she can actually be happy with him. He’s probably so stiff that his dick can’t even bend enough to get inside of her cooter.

He paused for a moment as he had a naughty thought about Emily, which greatly amused him. He immediately felt guilty. He had bought Clarisse her engagement ring, and would give it to her soon. He shouldn’t be reminiscing about banging Emily in his Aunt’s hot tub, or underneath the stage at some amphitheatre while they were on tour. He had a new life with Clarisse to think about.

***

“God damn it!” James yelled as he looked at his pathetic, shriveled up, and very burnt marshmallow. “These little fuckers keep burning up on me.”

“That’s because you keep setting them on fire,” said Francesca. She sighed as she took James’s stick and put a fresh marshmallow on it, and then roasted it over the bonfire for him. “Here,” she sighed as she handed him the stick with a plump and perfectly roasted marshmallow on it.

“Thanks baby,” he said with an impish grin. “You know, I’d like to roast your marshmallows sometime.” He gazed at her breasts. “I bet I could set them on fire.” He began to grab at her titties.

“James, not in front of the children,” Fran scolded.

“Cecily went on tour with us during the summer,” said James. “I think she’s seen just about everything. Hey Cess, why don’t you tell Francesca about hot Carl and the Cleveland steamers?”

“Uh okay,” said Cecily.

“No,” Cliff cut in. “She will not.” That had been the first that Cliff had acknowledged Cecily since returning from ring shopping.

“Speaking of hot, bouncy, merciful, breasts,” chirped James. “Where the fuck is Clarisse? It’s like ten fucking o’clock at night.”

“She’s probably having an affair,” quipped a sullen Cecily. “She’s probably going down on some businessman somewhere in some posh hotel.”

“Cecily Virginia!” Cliff squawked. “The shit that you spew out of your mouth is absofuckinglutely ridiculous! And clean up your fucking mouth. You fucking talk like you work down at the meat packing plant.”

“Gee I wonder why,” said a rather amused Scott Ian.

“Stay the fuck out of it Wurbles,” he snapped, using the random pet name that he had bestowed upon his buddy from Anthrax years ago.

“If I had a penny for every time that Cliff and his daughter dropped the F bomb, I’d have enough money to buy a professional sports team,” Scott shot. “It is kind of odd that Clarisse isn’t back yet. Do you think she’s alright?”

“Trust me,” said Cliff as he carefully filtered out some more weed into his bong. “She’s plenty alright. She’s just not really into bonfires and shit. She probably decided to stay the night with her cousin or something.”

“She sure seems to spend a lot of nights with her cousin,” said Cecily sarcastically. “It must be some cousin.”

“Shut up Cecily!” Cliff snapped. The very thought of Clarisse banging some other dude made him very, very, uncomfortable.

“Well it’s true,” Cecily went on. “She’s always out late.”

“It’s probably to avoid having to come home to you,” shot Cliff.

“Maybe it’s you,” Cecily returned. “Maybe you’re lousy in the sack.”

“I don’t think that’s the case Cess,” cut in James. “Remember, I’ve had to share tour busses and hotel rooms with your old man, and I’ve heard many squeals of pleasure from hundreds of groupies coming from Burton’s bed.”

“You mean thousands upon thousands,” Cliff corrected.

“That’s something to be proud of,” Cecily snarled. “You’re probably a walking STD.”

“What the fuck are you so crabby for?” Cliff shot. “You got a porcupine stuffed up your ass or something?” He took a long hit from the water bong.

“You know why,” Cecily muttered.

“You’re just jealous,” Cliff quipped. “You’re jealous of all the action that I’ve gotten in my day.”

“That’s not fair! You won’t let me get any action!” Cecily shrieked.

“Hey Mr. James,” piped up Jackson trying to break up some of the tension. “What’s up with this haunted house across the street?”

“Oh fuck dude,” said James as he violently skewered another marshmallow onto his stick. “You don’t want to hear about that. Kirk got so freaked out when I told him that he packed up his shit and left the very next day. It was kind of a good thing though. He kept making these fucking pine needle stuffed pillows and shit.”

“Are those the ones that are in my room?” Jackson asked.

James and Cliff nodded.

“No shit,” Jackson gasped. “Kirk Hammett made those pillows.”

“I whacked off on one of those pillows,” said a stoned Cliff. He took another hit.

“I thought that I smelled something funny,” Scott mused.

“Holy, holy, holy, shit!” Jackson let out a whistle. “I’m sleeping in a room with pillows handmade by Kirk Hammett, and masturbated upon by Cliff Burton.”

“It’s a fun land isn’t it?” laughed Francesca.

“Is anyone going to tell Jackson about the haunted house or not?” demanded Cecily, not at all amused by her stoned-out-of-his mind father.

“You are a crab ass Cecily,” answered James. “Did you get your period or something?”

Cecily turned red at the mention of her period right in front of Jackson. James carried on

“Back in like the turn of the century, they had a massive police shootout at the house across the street,” he began finally. “There was like a gang and they were hiding out in there because at the time it was vacant. At least twelve people were killed that night in that house.”

“They had gangs at the turn of the century?” Jackson asked.

“Of course,” nodded James. “Fuck, it might have been the mob or something. I think it was. Anyway, then some years later like in the 1930’s, a woman who was a schoolteacher was brutally murdered in that house by her husband. She was strangled, and her body was found floating in the well.”

“Cecily is going to be floating in that well herself if she doesn’t watch it,” put in Cliff as he took another hit. Francesca pulled his bong away.

“Smoking that much weed after that many marshmallows is only going to give you a tummy ache,” she scolded.

“Yes Mommy,” replied Cliff.

“You two!” shot James. “Up shut.” He went on with his tale. “Over the years they had three different families move into the house. The husband or father of each family was killed in some catastrophic way while inside. One dude was crushed in the garage door, another mysteriously fell down the basement stairs, and I think the other dude was electrocuted. Anyway, they say that the house is pissed off against all men. And I agree. That house acts even pissier than Cecily.”

“If your Dad was banging a nineteen-year-old you’d be pissy too,” said Cecily.

“Depends on how nice her titties were,” James replied.

They all looked over at the house across the street which was now sitting vacant. It was a quaint, gray, raised cottage style home with many steps and a big front porch. It looked calm and actually inviting sitting there by its lonesome in the night. It was in overall good condition, not at all boarded up and run down like most haunted houses.

“How long has it been empty?” asked Francesca.

“Not too long actually,” said James. “There was an old spinster lady living in it last year, but she moved away. Too many odd things going down inside. She got all freaked out. The place is haunted I tell you.”

“Have you ever been inside?” Jackson asked as he eyed the house with great interest.

“Fuck no!” James exclaimed. “Not even for all of the whores in Amsterdam would I go into that house. The house is fucking possessed. You two kids are absolutely forbidden to go there.”

“James is right. That house is off limits. We tried to get Lars to go in there once,” Cliff added in slow, stoned, speech. “We even offered him some money. The Danish miser was actually going to do it, but he chickened out on the front porch. He claims that he saw a teacup flying in the air through the window, but I think he might have been a little tripped out from acid.”

“Speaking of a little tripped out,” said Scott Ian to Cliff. “You’re so stoned that when you take your bedtime piss tonight, you’ll be pissing green. We need to get you to bed.” He helped Cliff, who was so stoned that he could barely stand up, to his feet and draped one of his arms over his shoulder.

“You want to help me?” Scott asked James.

“I love you Cecily,” Cliff warbled as he gimped past her with Scott and James. He blew her a kiss. “I love you too Francesca! If you really want to please James so that he keeps you around, make sure that you give him a rusty trombone. He likes that!”

Francesca shook her head as she started to clean up the mess of marshmallows and beer bottles that littered the beach.

“I’m sorry that you had to see my Dad completely wasted,” Cecily said to Jackson.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jackson replied. “He’s fucking awesome when he’s stoned. He’d be the perfect father if he wasn’t seeing that stupid Clarisse. Do you think that she’s really having an affair?”

Cecily shrugged. “She’s still not back yet,” she pointed out. “She better not be messing around on my Dad. I don’t know why, but he loves that stupid woman, and if she is cheating on him, it’s going to kill him. It’s going to absolutely crush him, and I will not let him get hurt. If she is cheating on him, as God as my witness, I’ll kick her ass...”

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Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Go Cecily! :) Kick that bitch's ass! Hah, stoned Cliff is funny, and Jackson's reaction to the pillows was priceless. Fran not wanting Cliff to smoke too much pot and eat too many marshmellows was so funny :lol: She'll be good for James :wink
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Shayi
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Bring me that horizon
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Well I've snatched a bit of a catch up here - I'm doing my best! And my God it's been hilarious so far! (I'm just up to where Clarisse is a bitch and hasn't bought Cess a birthday present and Cliff has had to drink her grim smoothy which to be honest, does sound vile!)

I am so so glad that Kirk is allowed free rein with the designing for the party!

Cecily stood behind him watching with great interest, enjoying the view of Kirk’s tight, little, ass in those black leather jeans that he was wearing. It was an ass fine enough for the god Apollo himself, as if it were molded from the finest chiseled limestone by artesian Indians.

That part made me laugh so damned hard you would not believe! Absolutely excellent. ANd the place at White Rock sounds awesome. I loved the interaction between Jackson and Cess. And Lars is a trouble stirrer.

I know I'm babbling but I really have no time and I have so much I want to say! So there we go for now - don't know when I'll be back on, hopefully very soon!

Have an awesome New Year!
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Battery
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Some Kind Of Monster
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I'm free from my family tonight and I can do a catch up :biggrin
Wow... I don't even know what to start with...
I loved conversation between Scott and Jackson, so funny, and I absolutely love to read about Jackson falling in love with Cecily, soo sweet :cloud9
It's horrible Cliff is planning to really propose to Clarisse :ugh: poor Cecily, I hope her and Jackson's plan with bugs will work :lol:
And I wonder what took Clarisse so long in the city....

“Holy, holy, holy, shit!” Jackson let out a whistle. “I’m sleeping in a room with pillows handmade by Kirk Hammett, and masturbated upon by Cliff Burton.”

“It’s a fun land isn’t it?” laughed Francesca." :lol: Francesca is great here :heart:

And stoned Cliff... :lol: brilliant!!!

Totally, totally awesome chapters!! :heart: :horns2
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Verity
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The Story Girl
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Maggie- I'm so happy that you are enjoying us. I promise that in the next chapter after this one here you'll find out what Clarisse has been up to in the city.

Shayi- I understand what it's like to have to play catch up to good fictions. That's the only downfall about reading fictions online. You can't read them when you don't have internet. I'm thrilled that you enjoyed my description of Kirk's ass. It was a pleasure writing that part. :wink

Vanessa- I'm glad that you like Francesca. And yeah, marshmallows and weed probably don't go together so well.



I promise in the next chapter after this Clarisse will get sand in her crotch. Until then, some more dribble and character development.


Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Good morning Clarisse,” Francesca said cheerfully the very next morning.

“Ugh,” Clarisse responded as she made a face. Her eyes were half shut, and her face was a wee bit puffy. She was clearly hung over.

“You were out awfully late last night,” Francesca went on. “Where were you?”

“None of your god damned business!” Clarisse shot, becoming awake at once. She took a sip of coffee, but immediately spat it out. “This coffee tastes disgusting! Who the fuck made it?”

“I did,” Francesca replied.

Cecily and Jackson floated into the kitchen. Clarisse was wearing sweatpants. Clarisse never wore fucking sweatpants. She must have been romping around until very late the previous night.

“Gee Clarisse,” said Cecily. “You look terrible this morning.”

“Oh shut up!” Clarisse snapped. “I look a hell of a lot better than your Father does. I’m sure not with him for his looks.”

“I think James is adorable,” Francesca said giddily.

“Oh please,” shot Clarisse. “Adorable and James should never been used together in the same sentence. That man is a vile, disgusting, pig.”

“He’s a pig, but at least he’s a handsome one,” said Francesca.

“If you don’t like the way that he looks, just what is it that you like about my Dad?” Cecily asked.

“His checkbook,” Clarisse replied matter-of-factly. “And he gets invited to the best parties in all of California.”

At that moment Cliff, in a pot induced hangover, stumbled out into the kitchen. He perked up a bit when he saw Clarisse. “Hey Doll Face,” he greeted as he gave her a kiss. “Where were you yesterday?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me?” Clarisse ranted. “It’s no one’s business!”

“I missed you,” said Cliff. He unzipped the hooded sweatshirt that she was wearing, and began to grope her titties right in front of Jackson, Cecily and Francesca.

“He certainly doesn’t have any shame about him,” Jackson remarked as he caught a load of Clarisse’s tits.

“When he was with Miss Emily he’d at least go back into the bedroom or bathroom and do that shit,” said Cecily.

“You smell gross Cliff,” Clarisse snarled as she pushed him away. “You reek of pot, beer, and urine.”

“My three favorite things Doll Face,” Cliff replied. “Sweetheart, I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with me tonight, just me and you. There’s a really nice, romantic, and famous seafood restaurant near here. I think that you’ll like it.”

Cecily looked down at her shoes. She knew the restaurant that he was talking about. He had taken Emily there for a romantic evening every summer that they had been at White Rock together. It made her sad to think that he was now going to share that special place with a twat like Clarisse.

“Oh Clifford it does sound wonderful,” Clarisse admitted. “But I have a photo shoot coming up tomorrow and I have to look my best. I can’t eat all of those calories the night before.”

“Oh come on,” said Cliff. “You look beautiful. You don’t have to worry about calories. What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry Cliff,” Clarisse replied. “Tomorrow is important. I can’t even gain an ounce.”

“Gaining an ounce is like pissing in the ocean. It ain’t going to make one bit of difference. I thought that you didn’t have any photo shoots booked for right now anyway,” said Cliff.

“I had one come up,” Clarisse replied.

Cliff clearly looked disappointed. Clarisse didn’t know it, but tonight was going to be the night that he was going to pop the question. “I already made the reservation,” he said sadly.

“Well then,” snapped an agitated Clarisse. “You’ll learn not to go ahead booking dinner reservations before asking me first.”

“I guess,” Cliff mumbled. He looked over at Francesca. “Do you and James want to go instead? I’ve already made the reservation. A table for two right by the window overlooking the water is reserved.”

“It sounds like a very nice place, but I think James and I were going to go sailing this evening,” replied Francesca.

Cliff sighed. “I guess I’ll have to cancel it. Shit. I was looking forward to having lobster too. I can’t believe it. For once, I don’t have a date tonight. Nobody wants to go out to eat with me.”

“I would,” said Jackson. “You could take me.”

Cliff just scowled at the boy and stuffed a cigarette in his mouth.

“Maybe your daughter would go with you?” Francesca suggested.

Cliff gave Cecily a nervous look. He knew that she was still pissed off at him. “Cecily,” he said sweetly. “How would you like to have a nice dinner with your Dad?”

Cecily wasn’t sure. She was still very angry. She hated the fact that he was going to put a ring on that whore Clarisse’s finger, and she was ashamed of how stoned and wasted he had gotten the night before. “I don’t know,” she replied.

“I got really trashed last night,” Cliff carried on. “I’m sorry Cecily.” He gently tugged on her hair. “The least that I can do is make it up to you by taking you out for a nice dinner. We haven’t had dinner alone together in a long time.”

“Alright,” Cecily answered. Perhaps during dinner she could talk some sense into him. It looked as if Operation Get Rid of Clarisse was in full swing…

***

Meanwhile, back in England, Evan, Emily, and Evan’s mother were working on wedding plans. Since this was at least the sixth wedding that Emily had planned, she thought that she was an old pro at it, but apparently she wasn’t, at least Evan’s mother didn’t seem to think so. Emily had just seen the guest list, and it was considerably different than the one that she and Evan had made earlier.

“Who are all of these people on the guest list?” she had asked. Mrs. Fitzgerald had added at least two hundred more names, and Emily didn’t recognize any of them. Evan looked over Emily’s shoulder.

“Mum,” he said. “Emmy and I just wanted to keep the wedding to around one hundred guests maximum. You must have about three hundred names on this list.”

“I’ll probably be adding more,” said Mrs. Fitzgerald.

“I’m sorry,” said Emily. “But I don’t even know any of these people.”

“Me either,” chirped Evan.

“Evan,” said his mother sternly. “These people are very important business contacts of your Father.”

“But I don’t know them,” said Emily. “I want to get married in front of family and friends, not a bunch of strangers.”

Even with just the list of one hundred names that Emily had made with Evan, Emily’s number of friends and family was still a lot smaller than Evan’s. She came from a small family. Emily had had maybe thirty people on the list, while the other eighty had been friends, family, and contacts of Evan’s. Now his number of people had nearly tripled.

“Do we really need to invite someone who just happened to play a round of golf with Dad twenty years ago to our wedding?” Evan asked.

Mrs. Fitzgerald just glared at her son. “If you want the Fitzgerald’s to continue on being a respected and accepted family than yes,” she replied. “It’s called politics.”

“Politics is turning my wedding into a three ring circus,” Emily muttered under her breath.

“I’m sorry Emmy,” Evan said as he took her hand and squeezed it. “But at least after the reception all of those fat old man guests will be gone, and we can go to our honeymoon suite alone.”

“Yeah,” Emily sighed. Trying to reason with Evan’s mother was like trying to reason with a brick wall. At this point, Emily just wanted to have a wedding take place. She was at the point where she no longer gave a shit about what sort of wedding she had. She just wanted to have a wedding that actually happened. Her first fiancé had failed her, and Cliff had failed her five times. Didn’t she deserve to have a wedding actually go off as planned? Fuck. Maybe she and Evan should just elope. That would really shock the shit out of Mrs. Fitzgerald. Emily and Cliff had almost did that once. Cecily was with her grandparents, so Cliff and Emily had decided to get wickedly and outrageously drunk and stoned together, and Cliff had suggested that they drive to Vegas and get hitched. They packed their bags and were all ready to go, but they were both so stoned that they couldn’t find their car keys. A small smile spread to Emily’s lips as she remembered how baked she and Cliff had been, and how they had even moved the refrigerator and peered behind it searching for the car keys.

Meanwhile, Evan’s mother was now bitching about Emily’s choice of wedding dinner dessert.

“You can’t serve them ginger cake and then turn around and give them wedding cake,” she rambled. “And no one in the Fitzgerald family even likes gingerbread. I think a soufflé would be a much better choice.” And with that, she crossed off Emily’s gingerbread and had penciled in soufflé.

Thinking about cakes made Emily think about Cecily because she had just had her birthday not too long ago. Cecily adored lemon cake, and Emily always made her one every year except for this year. She couldn’t help but wonder if Cliff had made Cecily her lemon cake instead. For a heavy metal bassist, he wasn’t bad at making cakes, though he did sometimes get the help of Mrs. Hammett, who was known throughout the Bay Area for her cakes. Emily remembered that one year Cliff had made her a kitty litter cake for her birthday in a kitty litter box. It had looked vile, disgusting, and totally something that Cliff and his Metallica buddies would come up with, but it was surprisingly very tasty, and she always begged Cliff to make it for her every year, and he did.

Emily couldn’t imagine what Mrs. Fitzgerald would do if she had suggested that they have a kitty litter cake at the reception. She’d probably shit. Only Cliff would give a girlfriend a birthday cake that looked like a litter box filled with cat shit. Sometimes she really did miss him. Evan was sweet and romantic in every way possible, but he’d never make her a kitty litter cake, or decide to take in a sickly, smelly, but very loving dog with a skin condition. Emily couldn’t help but miss her crazy life with Cliff and Cecily that she had left behind.

Emily also knew that Cliff and Cecily were at White Rock right now. Emily missed White Rock. She had been going there every summer since Cliff and James had bought the place and she missed it. She also missed Cecily and Geezer too. It wasn’t fair that Cliff had gotten to keep everything. But then again, they were never married, and she had no rights to White Rock, or to Geezer, or most importantly to Cecily. That was one of the things that had frustrated her the most about when Cliff would call off their weddings. Emily had done all of the paperwork to legally adopt Cecily, but without marrying Cliff it couldn’t go through, so Emily had never gotten to legally be Cecily’s mother in the eyes of the law, and therefore she had no custody or visitation rights to the child, except for when Cliff allowed Cecily to come and see her. She missed Cecily so much that she could hardly even think about the girl without getting teary eyed.

Evan could tell that Emily seemed a little upset. He put his arm around her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear. “My Mum has to make everything about politics. She did the same thing when I graduated from Oxford. We had this huge party and I knew absolutely no one. I’m sorry that she’s ruining our wedding. You’ve been through so much already. You really do deserve what you want. If you want your gingerbread, I’ll make sure that you have it.”

“Don’t worry about it Evan,” replied Emily. “At this point, I just want someone to actually marry me and not decide to call off the wedding a week before.”

Evan pulled her close and planted a kiss right on top of her head. “I would never do that to you,” he vowed. “I can’t believe that Cliff did that to you. What a stupid, stupid, stupid, man. He really doesn’t deserve a woman half as wonderful as you are.”

All thoughts about crazy Cliff and his smelly dog, weird-ass cakes, and darling daughter drifted out of her mind as she laid her head down on Evan’s shoulder, and cuddled up close to him. Even if Evan’s mother was taking total control and dictation over her wedding at least it would be a wedding that would actually happen…
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Lucifer's Angel
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Yeah, where the hell is Clarisse? I bet she was up to no good. And how could she call James ugly? :angry And Evan's mom sounds awful, all those strangers at the wedding and her being a bully :( Hmm, is she missing Cliff too? :wink
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Simone
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O.O

emilyyyyyyyyy...DON"T MARRY EVAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :( I want Cliff and Emily and damn I wish Clarisse would be caught fucking another dude...or maybe Cess would record her saying she doesn't love Cliff only his money :nanner: That would be kick ass!!!!!
:lol:

Btw,Happy new Year gals! May this year be better than the last one :horns: :heart: :horns2
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Verity
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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Clarisse was in a rather sunny mood as she set up her beach chair, umbrella, and picnic basket on the beach. Sun bathing was the only worthwhile thing about White Rock. The house itself was decent, but could greatly benefit from some redecorating. Other than that she was very disappointed. The closest town was eleven miles away. They were in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Not only was she in the middle of nowhere, but aside from Cliff, she was with a bunch of people that she couldn’t stand. James was a pig, and not just because his world revolved around titties. The man was just a pig. He shit and pissed all over the toilet seat, and he would even throw his dirty clothes in the bathtub instead of in the laundry hamper that was right next to it. His chickie Francesca seemed to be a bore, who had a thing for trashy romance novels. Scott Ian was an immature dweeb, and then of course there was the brat pack: Jackson and Cecily.

She lied down in her beach chair and started to slather her body with sunscreen. Fortunately for her she had Ken, actually it was Doctor Ken.

Doctor Ken was a board certified and renowned cosmetic surgeon. Clarisse had first met him a year ago when she had gone to him for breast implants. He did nice work, at least Cliff, James, Lars, and even Kirk sure as hell seemed to think so. Over the past year she had gone to him for follow up appointments, and Botox injections, and now she was even thinking about getting a little bit of liposuction. She had a bod that most girls would give their right arm for, but she was a wee bit disturbed over a small lair of fat that she had in her stomach area, and she wanted it gone. After all, she was a model, and didn’t she deserve to look good? That was another thing that White Rock was good for: recovering.

Now that Clarisse had her own credit card from Cliff she could get that liposuction that she had always been wanting. She had scheduled it for next week since Cliff had to leave for a few days to baby sit the idiot brigade (Gastropod) on their three city mini tour, and even James had to go on a Metallica appearance as well. White Rock was the perfect place to recover. There wouldn’t be many people around to see her, so no one would have to even know about it. She would certainly never tell Cliff. There was also something else that she would never tell him: Doctor Ken was more than just her cosmetic surgeon. He was her lover and secret boyfriend. Both Clarisse and Doctor Ken had to keep their relationship on the down low. Doctor Ken was married, unhappily married, but he was trapped because he had two young kids. Couldn’t she find a rich man who didn’t have sucky kids hanging off of him? However, Clarisse didn’t see herself as an adulteress. She was saving poor, martyred, Doctor Ken from a loveless and lonely life. The two had been spending lots of time together. Last night he had driven and met Clarisse halfway between San Francisco and White Rock just to be with her, and tonight he was doing the same.

Clarisse put on sunglasses and let out a sigh of contentment as she began sunning herself. She had the latest issue of Vogue to flip through, some fresh carrot juice to drink. What more did a girl need?

A pesky fly began to buzz right over her head. Clarisse swatted at it with her magazine. “Go away!” she snarled.

No sooner had she swatted at that fly another one appeared, buzzing about over her head. Pretty soon she had four flies milling around her.

“This is ridiculous!” Clarisse squawked. She got up and moved her beach chair over to a different spot. As she did so she began to get an itchy feeling in between her legs, deep down in the abyss known as her crotch. “If Cliff gave me some nasty, dirty, venereal, disease I’ll kill him,” Clarisse vowed as she tugged on her bikini bottom.

She plopped back down in her beach chair. Being away from those wretched flies was much better. However, it wasn’t long before they came back, buzzing right over Clarisse’s head. One gutsy little fucker even landed on her arm.

“Get away from me!” she snarled as she violently swatted at it. She reached over for her picnic hamper and pulled out a plastic Tupperware container of salad that she had made last night. Little did she know that her salad had been enhanced by Chef Jackson. Tiny little grubs and an earthworm had been carefully tucked between the spinach leaves. Clarisse was so busy trying to bat away the flies that she didn’t even notice that she had shoved a grub right into her mouth until she had bit down on it. She immediately spat it out into her napkin and let out a high pitched shriek. To her horror, she found the earthworm and the rest of the grubs and beetles that were nestled in her salad. She flung the salad container into the air. “My food!” she cried. “It’s infested! This stupid horrid White Rock place! If they got into my food, they’re must be bugs in our house!”

Clarisse didn’t have much time to worry about the bugs in her food because she noticed that the arms and legs of her beach chair were crawling with ants. Hundreds upon hundreds of ants were marching up and down her chair, and some of them were crawling on Clarisse. The ants horrified her. Clarisse jumped up at once and started to scream uncontrollably. She began to jump around as if she were on fire, trying to bat the ants off of her limbs.

Jackson and Cecily had been watching the entire spectacle from up on the porch. For them, this was great amusement. James and Scott Ian with a boogie board stuffed under his arm, came traipsing up the beach.

“Hey Clarisse!” greeted Scott. He watched as she frantically jumped around before them. “What the fuck is up with you? You got ants crawling up your cooter or something?”

“This isn’t funny!” Clarisse snarled. Even though the ants were now off of her she couldn’t shake that creepy skin crawling feeling that she had. Also her vagina was really starting to itch like the dickens. She tugged on the crotch of her bikini bottom.

“Yeah,” said James as he gazed at her. “Do that again. That was hot. Or better yet, take the bottom off. We can pretend that White Rock is a nude beach. I don’t mind.”

“I have never been to a more vile and disgusting place in my life!” Clarisse shouted. “I hate it here!”

“How could anyone possibly hate White Rock?” said James. “It’s beachfront property.”

“It’s infested with bugs!” shot Clarisse.

James made a face. He knew that he was an oversexed pig most of the time, but he did take very good care of his vacation home. He and Cliff had the place treated for insects every year. He knew very well that besides the occasional house fly or spider that there weren’t any bugs at White Rock. “I take very good of my beachfront home,” he retorted as he tossed his honey kissed blonde locks over his shoulder. “We spray for insects every year.”

Clarisse pointed to her beach chair. There were so many ants that the originally white arms and legs appeared black. “Then explain this to me!” she shouted.

“It’s because you go around looking so sexy damn hot,” said James. “Ants like tits too.”

“Oh fuck off you pig!” yelled Clarisse. “They’re everywhere! They’re even in my salad.”

“They add protein,” said Scott.

James opened up a container of fresh fruit that Clarisse had also brought along. Underneath a piece of watermelon he found a gigantic garden slug. To Clarisse’s chagrin he picked it up with his own two fingers, and dangled it in midair. “They like your food too,” he declared. “This little fucker stowed away in your fruit salad.”

“I’ve never stayed in such a dirty place in my entire life!” Clarisse shrieked.

“White Rock is not dirty!” he yelled. He looked thoughtful for a moment as Clarisse crossed her legs so that she wouldn’t have to go digging at her itching cooter in front of Scott and James. He crouched down next to her beach chair and knocked some of the ants away. He felt the wood of the chair’s arms. “It sticky!” he exclaimed. “And it looks like there’s sugary shit all over it. That’s what’s attracting the flies and ants. They love sugar.”

“They love shit too,” said Scott Ian importantly.

“Well then they should love you,” Clarisse retorted. She turned to James. “You’re being ridiculous,” she bitched. “I didn’t put sugar on my beach chair. Why on earth would I do such a thing?”

“I never said that you did,” James replied. “But somehow some sort of sugary shit got all over it. Your chair and umbrella are covered in it. Maybe little elves came and did it in the night.”

“No,” Clarisse said fiercely. “I know damn well who would pull a despicable stunt like this.” She paused as she rubbed her legs together, trying to relieve some of the itching that was going on. “I know who was behind this,” she went on.

“Tom Petty?” guessed Scott Ian.

James and Clarisse just stared at him.

“Sorry,” Scott mumbled. “I smoked some cheap weed last night.”

“That little nasty brat of Cliff’s did it!” Clarisse shrieked. “Her and that dorky boy that she hangs around with!”

James and Scott didn’t say anything. Cecily despised Clarisse and it showed. Clarisse was probably right. Cecily probably did do it with the help of Jackson.

Clarisse was also certain that Cecily was behind the now raging itching that she was feeling up in her snatch.

“I always knew that she was an undisciplined brat,” she ranted. “But I never thought that she would do something as evil as this! That girl is a bad seed. She’s bad, bad, news. All adopted children are bad news. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to murder me in my sleep within a year. After she gets me she’ll murder Cliff next.”

“Oh don’t be silly!” laughed James. “Cecily isn’t going to murder anyone. Fuck. This one time while we were on tour, Lars bought this golden retriever puppy that we were going to slaughter on stage during one of our concerts. When Cecily heard about it she threw a huge hissy fit, and was crying and pissing and moaning. Anyway, needless to say we ended up not slaughtering the puppy. We gave it away to a good home instead. Cecily would never hurt anyone or anything.”

“It’s no wonder that her mother got rid of her,” Clarisse went on. “She dodged a bullet by getting rid of Cecily.”

“Cecily’s mother wasn’t ready to take care of a child yet,” said James. “Actually, it was more like Cecily getting rid of her mother than Claudia getting rid of Cecily.”

“The kid has bewitched you!” Clarisse shrieked. “She’s downright malicious!”

“She played a childish prank,” said Scott with a shrug. “Kids do that shit. I once stuck my brother’s dick to a pole during the winter time to see if it would freeze.”

“Did it?” an interested James asked.

Scott nodded. “They had to call three ambulances and the fire department just to get it unstuck, and he had to get fourteen stitches right in his nut sack.”

“Damn,” James whistled. “That sounds painful as all-fuck.”

Speaking of painful, Clarisse’s vagina was really uncomfortable. She wasn’t going to get anywhere with Scott and James anyway. She took off storming towards the house. Cecily and Jackson immediately ran to go hide from her wrath.

Francesca was sitting inside the screen porch painting her toenails. “Hi Clarisse,” she said cheerfully.

Clarisse grumbled something inaudible as she stomped up the stairs to her bedroom. She immediately took off her bathing suit. As she did, she noticed that lumps of sand fell out onto the floor. She took a closer look only to find that the inner lining of her bikini bottoms had been stuffed with sand.

“Cliff just has to get rid of her!” Clarisse exclaimed as she chucked the sandy swimsuit into the bathtub. There was sand everywhere, it was gross. “It would be for his own good! That kid is a psycho, all orphans are! She just has to go.” she ranted.

As Clarisse began to take care of herself she started to think of how she should go about with Cecily’s punishment. She could tell Cliff but it seemed as if more often than not Cliff always took Cecily’s side. She didn’t know why. Maybe the kid sucked his dick or something, but it seemed as if Cecily had some kind of sick control over him. Telling Cliff wouldn’t accomplish anything. He’d find some lame excuse for it all. Clarisse decided to take matters into her own hands. She’d deal with Cecily herself. She needed to hurt Cecily just as much as she had just hurt her, and Clarisse knew just the perfect thing. She strolled over to her desk and opened the top drawer. Tucked away safely in a package of Maxi pads (Cliff would never look there) was the cold, distant, and rather shallow letter that Claudia had written to Cecily a few months ago. Cecily thought that she was so damn smart but Clarisse would show her that no one ever messes with Clarisse VanSicklen…
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