Chow Down!: Leave Room For Dessert!
Columbia bounced happily on her heels, thrilled to death at the steady clack-clack-clacking the taps produced. She was in an absolutely fabulous mood that had nothing at all to do with Frankie's latest break-through. Oh, sure, figuring out how the brain would work was all fine and dandy, but really it was of no consequence to the ex-groupie. New tap shoes meant something to her; having to re-dye her hair meant something to her; hell, a new rock album still meant something to her; but the mechanisms employed to bring Frank's creature to life didn't get goose-eggs in her eyes.
A new ice cream parlor opening in Denton, on the other hand, meant quite a bit to her. It meant a night out, a chance to sneak a peek at the new music scene, and—most importantly—it meant she could get her favorite frozen treat whenever she felt a craving for it! Denton was a poser of a hipster town: Up until now, it had hosted only frozen yogurt stores, which had none of the fatty cream and real sugar the petite red-head pined for. Fro-Zen, the new store, had opened just last week, and Columbia was absolutely determined to zip down for a taste, just as soon as Frankie was done.
If there was one thing Columbia regretted as an attractive 23 year-old woman with a rich and fulfilling career as a groupie and now lab assistant to the most brilliant scientist in the universe, it was never getting her driver's license. Going to Fro-Zen without a ride was difficult, but not impossible…provided that she could sweet-talk Frankie into it, as she was fairly certain she and her feminine wiles could.
Frank squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, annoyed beyond belief. The tapper's exuberant spirit usually thrilled him—or made him horny, whichever came first, and horny often did—but today, it was nothing short of exasperating. That infernal noise was simply galling, grating on Frank's ears the way it was, and as if to put the icing on the cake, she had started to hum some repetitive rock song she had no-doubt heard on the radio earlier that week (probably sometime before Magenta "accidently" flung it down the stairs). Knowing there was no other way around it, Frank took a deep, calming breath to steel himself for the task ahead, then turned his attention on to his number-one fan.
"Columbia, darling," he called, his tone so sweet it nearly gave the nearby Riff Raff diabetes.
"Yes, Frankie?"
"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Riff glanced briefly up, annoyed that Frank's mind appeared to be—once again!—devoted to his libido…only to look quickly back down again. Columbia was unfortunate in that she could see only the Master's backside: From the front, he looked like a volcano ready to blow.
"I dunno, Frankie…why?"
"'Why?'" Frankie spun around to face the girl, repeating the word venomously. "'Why?' Columbia, my pet, in the event that you have not noticed, we are in the middle of a very delicate procedure!" The girl turned pale and stopped bouncing, all excitement dead in the face of Frank's verbal Blitz Krieg. "You are best served either being quiet or leaving, before I decided to use your brain as a test subject, instead of that buffoon's!"
The girl stood for a few seconds, torn between apology and defiance, then finally crumpled and went racing from the room, her falling tears the only proof that she had been there at all. Frank turned calmly back to the procedure at hand, and Riff continued cautiously, not wishing to upset his master as the girl had done. The procedure was a success, prompting Frank to feel more forgiving in its aftermath. Columbia probably hadn't meant to irritate him, after all, and besides, there was a familiar pressure in his groin, one which he dearly hoped the girl would feel up to relieving. For all the success he celebrated in the brain transplant, he was shockingly unsuccessful in wooing the girl back over.
He almost turned back when he got to the room, of course: There he was, looking decadent and undeniable in freshly re-applied makeup and new lingerie, a bottle of Transylvanian wine in one hand and two wine-glasses in the other, only to be met just outside of the door to the girls' bedroom by the sappy strings of a broken-hearted love song played by some meaningless rock-n-roll band. He stopped, reassessing the situation; this sort of music meant an apology and a glass of wine wouldn't heal the wound. Oh no, he would have his relief only after sharing "feelings" and much ego-petting to get the girl to come back around. Still, as the pressure from below the belt reminded him, he needed the relief…and it was such a small offense, really, that it wouldn't take too terribly long before they were climbing under the sheets for a round or two of Frank's favorite game.
He knocked on the door with renewed confidence in his charm, a smoldering smirk already in place to dazzle the girl when she opened it, teary-eyed but otherwise fine, only to find his preparations done in vain as Magenta opened the door, angry scowl in place.
"Go avay," she snapped, moving to shut the door in her Master's face. His hand caught the end of it in the nick of time, pulling it back open. Magenta moved so her full figure covered the doorway, effectively blocking the room from view. Frank pouted, knowing he would have to contend with the pissed-off domestic now.
"I want to speak to Columbia," he sniffed, conveying in his tone his opinion of the woman's actions.
Magenta lips turned upward in a cruel, satisfied smile. "She doesn't vant to see you."
Frank sighed and rolled his eyes, recognizing this game. It was always a power-struggle between the maid and him; ever since she had discovered what a beguiling little pawn Columbia could be, she had gone out of her way to be nice to the Earthling. Well, usually she went out of her way to be nice…there were incidents, such as the radio-flinging of earlier that week, in which Magenta's disdain for the girl occasionally raised its bitter head.
"Of course she does," he clucked, casting his eyes heavenward before setting them back down on his servant. "She always wants to see me."
"Not this time," the woman taunted, delighting in her small victory over her idiotic master.
"'Genta?" called a miserable voice from inside the room. "Who's there with ya', 'Genta?"
Magenta looked over her shoulder at the speaker, still managing to block Frank's view perfectly, as if she had practiced the maneuver…which, knowing Magenta like he did, Frank wouldn't put past her.
"It's Frank Furter," she replied simply. And, already knowing the answer, she added, "Vould you like to see him?"
"NO!" called the voice, followed by a hysterical fit of reinvigorated sobs.
"Sorry," the Transylvanian lied, smiling like a shark once more before slamming the door shut. He heard a definite click, signaling that the door had been locked, and the sobs continued and rose to a wailing crescendo before he finally left, furious and not just a little confused. He had been denied, denied!, by his well-trained groupie for doing little more to her than he did every day anyway. What had gotten into that girl's head?
At the end of the hallway, lounging about near the elevator, was a very smug looking Riff Raff. Frank needed little more than to simply see the triumphant smirk playing across the handyman's features before he straighten himself up, suddenly livid with the girl, and the maid, and the handyman. The whole lot of them could just go rot! Snarling, he activated the elevator, waiting as it rose through the floor to meet him. He stepped in, whirled around, and glared daggers into the self-satisfied visage of the hunch-backed man before him.
"What are you so happy about?" he snarled, flinging the elevator into reverse and descending into his room, the sound of contented chuckling floating down to prick his ears from above.
A/N: Oh, I'm so embarrassed! :"O Somehow, my first chapter didn't make it online...it's nothing new, but it really should be here... Hee~! :3 Anyway, thansk for the reads! Oh, and please me a review if you read this little bit of fluff... I'm looking for new food! The gang's crazy adventures shouldn't be limited to just ice cream and pizza! Send in your favorite foods via review and I'll see it if sparks my creative juices! Much love~! TTFN, ~BritLuvr~