Written from our MSN conversation THAT DIDN'T SAVE! VITZ, I'M DEPRESSED AND DISAPPOINTED WITH YOU!
I don't own anything besides my own amazing comebacks.
T for a reason!
"Oliver smells of shit," Vicky moans as she sits down next to the ageing hippie vampire who shoots her a slightly hurt look. She ignores this as she proceeds to explain how much it reminds her of when her little sister did a poop when she was a baby that stunk the entire house out and how she wishes Oliver would regain control over his bladder.
"I mean, I know you're what they'd class as a geriatric in this town, Oliver, but bodily functions can be helped," she says kindly, wanting to lay a hand over his in comfort but being afraid that if she does, it'll transfer the stigma of the smell onto her.
Vitzy appears at this moment, smelling the room and deciding not to mention it as she shoots her best friend a glare. "Well, you know what, Sam just said it was you!" she points to the loveable red-head in the back corner of the room who decided to sleep through this because, well, it's not very interesting. But, at the mention of his name, he shoots upright and looks straight at the three people in the room with him, a confused look on his face.
"I said…what?" he asks, perplexed, standing up and moving across to stand next to his girlfriend, who is sitting next to Vitzy's boyfriend – and no, there is not the possibility of an affair because Oliver as le sens de merde!
"You said it was Vicky who smells of shit, not Oliver," Vitzy raises her eyebrows in a way that shows Sam that she wants him to agree with her. "After all, I believe I fancy a banana milkshake…" she continues, confusing the other two beyond belief but making Sam blush. You see, Vicky hates banana Yazoo, so Sam agreed to stop drinking it so that she doesn't have to taste it. However, Vitzy, the other week, found Sam drinking a secret stash of them in his English Lit classroom. There's no chance Vicky would ever find this since she hates English with a passion, barely passing GCSE English…then again, the same could be said for her and most of her subjects.
"Um…no…I don't know who smells of poop," he cannot bring himself to say "shit" since he's so adorably cute, whilst Oliver simply splutters at this innocence in the man who stands behind him.
"Got something to say, Oliver?" Vicky looks at him harshly. "I mean, I know you're the insensitive git who tried to murder me the other week, but you could at least be civil!" she continues, accidentally informing Sam of the fact that Oliver bit her the other week because he mistook her for Vitzy. This biting then led to the near starting of things that, if detailed, would lead to this fic being M rated, for Oliver is a horny bastard when it comes to Vitzy.
Not something Vicky likes to remember.
But Oliver doesn't mind as, well, it stops Vitzy's birthday present from Claire and Myrnin needing to be used.
"You did what?" Sam snarls at Oliver, about to launch himself at him until he remembers the allegations of Oliver smelling of poop.
"It doesn't matter, does it?" Vitzy says pointedly to Vicky who grimaces and shakes her head. "After all…I didn't tell anyone about how you learnt French for shit from your mum, did I?" she continues, telling the people there as a punishment for telling Sam about Oliver's sexual tendencies.
"No, it doesn't," Vicky continues, skirting over the issue of her learning French – after all, it's not that big a deal. Sam continues to look outraged but Vicky puts her hand on his and he calms down. "Vitzy, did you get the results for that experiment with the sodium thiosulphate?" she asks, since they were supposed to be working on it together, but since Vicky had to go do chemistry and sit next to smelly smoker boy, it was impossible.
Vitzy pouts – it's her favourite movement with her lips – and shakes her head, ducking it at the same time. "No…I sort of…um…well, I used sodium carbonate instead," she mutters, causing Vicky to burst out laughing.
"And you're supposed to be a genius!" Vicky grins, whilst Oliver simply shakes his head, unable to believe he's dating someone dimmer than the person who cries in a corner- oh wait, that's Vitzy as well.
"Um…what was I saying again?" Vitzy says slowly, getting caught up in Oliver's eyes because she's weird and finds him hotter than Sam – something that will never happen in normal people's minds.
Exasperated, Sam rolls his eyes as he hugs Vicky, who is even more exasperated, almost about to explode with annoyance. "What is with eighteen year olds these days?" she snaps, shaking her head, her braces digging into her cheeks as she has a rather evil expression on her face. "Are they all idiotic dipshits?"
"Are all seventeen year olds meanies?" Vitzy shoots back, pouting – yes, once again!
"No," Vicky says, before a thought pops into her head. "Oh my God! It's not Oliver that smells of shit, it's you!" she laughs out loud as she attributes the incorrect reaction along with Vitzy's natural smell to the disgusting scent issuing around the room.
"Apology please," Oliver snaps but Vicky shakes her head, muttering about how she's holding Sam back. "Fine…I suppose I shall be forced to spend time with you later, since Vitasta insisted on the pair of you coming over later," he sniffs, standing up and taking Vitzy's hand before she can even react – not that she minds, since she lurves Oliver and it's just love there.
"See ya then," Vicky replies, already turning around and kissing Sam.
This means she misses Vitzy saying, "is it just me, or is she obsessed with faeces?"
You don't want to hear Oliver's reply.
Later that day
Because she's the only one who cannot legally drink, Vicky remains sober as she watches Oliver, Vitzy and Sam (heartthrob to the double when he's slightly pissed; drunk is downright adorable) down vodka shot after vodka shot.
"Oh my god!" Vitzy states for the fourth time in a row, not as drunk as she's appearing but wanting an excuse to be able to snog Sam as he's so hot and she wants to kiss him. "I just thought of something we can do!" she reaches and grabs her iPhone from under her dog Snowy (who stole her phone and threw it under a seat in the car – Oliver left it there deliberately as he was fed up of Vicky and Vitzy texting all the time) and begins to scroll through her texts.
"What the hell is she doing?" Oliver sighs as he reaches back – he's the drunkest of the lot but he can still stand up and act as if he's one hundred percent normal.
"Oh, she's digging out the texts that show that she's actually normal and has a secret boyfriend who is really hot," Vicky grins as she sips some of her full fat coke (you only live once) through a straw and eats some more Milka (food of the Gods) with a grin on her lips.
Vitzy rolls her eyes as she sits back down. "No, I'm finding the texts from Vicky that can barely be read," she says, making Sam laugh.
"Yes, I have noticed that she can't exactly type well," he grins, earning himself the dirtiest glare from Vicky he has ever had.
"It's only because I used to have an awesome e63 but now I have an icky touch phone and I really don't like typing on it," she rolls her eyes. "By the way, Vitz, it's was, not were," she continues.
"So, you're a Grammar Nazi but you can't spell right?" Vitzy confirms, a frown on her face as she tries to work this out.
"Pretty much – all good lives have a grammar nazi, don't you think?" she grins before looking back at Sam and shifting to the other side of the sofa. "You, mister, don't think you're sitting anywhere near me for a long time. and let me tell you something; your grammar sucks! You put colons where it should be semi colons and commas in the middle of clauses…" she trails off as Sam lunges over and places a hand over her mouth.
"Sounds like someone has had too much sugar," Oliver says disapprovingly, making plans to ensure Vicky never has the amount of sugar she has consumed in his house again…
She shakes her head vigorously, mumbling against Sam's hand until he finally lets go. Then she lets him pull her upright and she sits against him, formulating a reply to Oliver and Vitzy, both of whom are sniggering ridiculously.
"Well…at least having too much sugar doesn't mean that I get an entire conversation sorted with someone and delete the conversation!" she hisses, reminding Vitzy of the time (not too long ago, actually) when they formulated some brilliant material just for the older (and more idiotic) girl to go and erase the entire conversation, forcing Vicky to exit the conversation since the other one was like "Oh my god, I have to go," and this therefore means they are guessing at what they said.
"At least I'm not a…silly, poop obsessed pea brain," Vitzy shoots back, wondering if she can get Vicky to move so she can try kissing Sam – and blame the booze, of course.
"At least I'm not a nasty, idiotic, decrepit old woman!" she gets back, Vicky standing up and letting her curly brown hair down all over her shoulders as she yells at Vitzy.
"That was mean," Vitzy replies, pouting again as Oliver moves towards her. "No, Ollie, get her!" she shrieks, moving backwards and making a cross shape at Vicky which is pointless because a) Vicky is not a vampire and b) it's pointless because vampires aren't affected by the sign of a cross.
"That sounded like a chav," Vicky points out simply, mocking Vitzy's accent again because Vitzy normally sounds like a posh Southerner from England but sometimes, she sounds like a chav from Hull…
"That sounded like you were being mean!" Vitzy, being a very unoriginal person, decides to go down the mean route again. Meanwhile, Oliver and Sam start up a conversation about the football – only neutral topic in town, since who I bit last night isn't really a good idea after what Sam found out earlier – and Vicky moves across the room to grab a glass of Irn Bru.
"That sounds like a pathetic chav," Vicky sighs, grabbing her phone and texting to facebook: VITZY IS A PATHETIC CHAV FROM SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTH CAUSE SHE'S CRAZY!
Vitzy instantly checks her phone to see that Vicky has posted this and that there are fifteen comments already agreeing – and on the top of the list is her friend Naomi, saying that this statement is one hundred percent true, yet to add British Asian to the statement.
So, of course, Vicky edits her original post to include Vitzy's ethnic origin whilst Vitzy pouts – she needs a better response.
Sam punches Oliver in the face because Oliver says that Manchester United deserves to loose the league, or whatever football is about. Instantly, Vicky (shuddering) jumps to grab Oliver and uses some of the awesomesauce fighting techniques he taught her to hold him down, trying desperately not to link the idea of the rope in her hand to one of the other rooms in the house.
Meanwhile, Vitzy grabs Sam and throws him back onto the couch, straddling him. she then stuns him with some sort of creation she made in the lab (evil genius 101 here, guys, please take note of the next supervillian) before her lips press down on his.
Instantly, she sees what Vicky has been bragging about and is instantly jealous that she got the older one…until she remember age comes with experience.
She removes herself from Sam who continues to look stunned whilst Vicky throws Oliver into some glass table and launches herself at her best friend, a look of betrayal on her face…knocking them both unconscious somehow.
~x~
"It was the drink," Vitzy moans as she stirs about fifteen minutes later. "All the damned drink," the groan issuing from her mouth makes her realise that she's drunker than she thought.
"That's why you don't drink," Vicky sighs, moving to sit upright again. Suddenly she finds herself scooped up in Sam's arms, looking up at the redheadedness that is her amazing boyfriend. "I love you Sam," she finds herself saying, not knowing that Vitzy woke up a minute before her and shot her with this injection thing that stopped her being a bitch and made her forget that Vitzy had kissed Sam – it wasn't that good…but then again, Oliver is amazing for Vitzy, so yeah…
"Love you too," he takes her to the sofa and puts her down, resting her head in his lap. "Now, why don't you say we watch a film and relax?" he suggests as they decide watching Oliver and Vitzy together isn't very fun.
She gets up and puts one of the random discs on the side in – it's labelled up as Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part one, so she's expecting laughs, such as "Yes, we know he's bloody gorgeous," or "just trying to diffuse the tension," but they don't get it.
Instead the soundtrack is a porno…and the images moving onscreen brand her memory for life – not in a good way.
Just as Vitzy and Oliver realise what it is, Myrnin comes bounding in the door because he's upset he wasn't invited.
"A porno?" he looks simultaneously horrified and delighted at the same time, whipping out his phone to take photos of this. "Oliver a pimp…whatever next, Amelie to come dancing in, wearing only underwear?"
But that's a different story!
Whatcha think?
Vitz, hon, you better like this
xx