Scrooge You

AN: Bet you weren't expecting this one were you::Nym slowly retreats back under a rock::

Mature (but not as mature as you think!) content in this one. Because it's Catty's house, honestly, what would you expect?

Act Eight: The Safeword is Cephalopod

Lambert tried desperately to stop the cringe of disgust that crawled up his face as he eyed the house in front of him, "Where the hell are we?" He demanded, sniffing the air carefully. It reeked of earthy scents, hemp, and inner nurturing.

Vanessa sighed, brushing off some imaginary lint on her shoulder, "Catty didn't call me back. I worry."

He stared at her in disbelief, "We're here because you care for the well-being of your friends? Disgusting."

Vanessa scoffed, "Only socially degenerate losers like you don't have friends to nag- er, check up on."

"I nag all of the time," he said crossly, "What else is Stanton good for?"

"Sex," she said flatly, before her eyes widened and she clamped a hand in front of her mouth.

"Yeah…" Lambert trailed off.

Vanessa's stare widened even more, "What?!"

Lambert gawked at her, "What?!"

The two stared at each other for about five seconds before they each turned away, whistling dully and praying to god they misheard the other.

"Anyways-" Lambert, master of the transition, started, "Is this the same Catty that I hate?"

Vanessa's lips pursed, "The one you tried to kill?"

"That's the one."

"Then yes. She's supposed to be doing her homework right now, I texted her three times to make sure but she keeps ignoring them and she'll fall behind and not get into a good college and then her dreams will be worth nothing and-"

"Yeesh, you were right about the nagging thing," Lambert declared haughtily, turning to face the house, "Let's just go."

With that, the pair who most certainly did not have intimate relations with Stanton because he was not the fandom bicycle, entered the house of one very academically irresponsible Catty Turner.

---

Lambert, having lived during the Dark Ages, had seen many horrible things in his time. Iron, chains, and even one deceivingly innocent looking rabbit, but the inside of the Turner home on Christm- The Fourth Week of December's Eve was enough to make his blood curl and his hair boil. Or something like that.

There was…

There was…

Damn dirty hippie memorabilia! The stuff was everywhere, from the posters of various children holding hands over the world to the soothing meditative rock fountain in the corner. This infernal place exuded calm, peace, love, respect, and unity- the very things Lambert and his staunchly immoral code went against!

"I'm going to be sick," he said, doubling over and clenching his gut as he caught a whiff of sandalwood incense.

Vanessa nodded, tossing back a curtain of fabulous blonde hair, "I'm really worried about Catty too."

"Not sick with worry, I'm going to be actually-"

The sound of a whip cracking and a whimper echoed throughout the hallway, and Vanessa's head jerked up.

"That sounds like Catty's in danger!" She declared with a bit of genuine terror in her tone, "If she's in danger she can't study and get good grades!"

Lambert stared at her in a sort of sick fascination. That girl really had to get her priorities straightened out, this coming from a man who had given up the love of his life in exchange for internet surveys, Harry/Draco slash, and chicken potpies.

The whimpering sound escalated, and Vanessa took off towards the living room. Lambert reluctantly followed her. After all, company with the crazy blonde one was preferable to staying in that room of torture and connectivity.

All of the years of training in the dark arts could never have prepared Lambert for what he was about to see. Nothing could have.

Catty, dressed in a santa hat and leather, was sitting on a large, plush recliner. Some good looking boy -because ugly people didn't exist in Los Angeles- was sitting on her lap and squinting his eyes in some sort of pain. He was the first one to notice the two intruders in the Turner home.

"Vanessa?" He asked in confusion.

Catty, who hadn't looked up, rolled her eyes, "Kyle, the safe word was cephalopod. Don't tell me you forgot again- Oh, Vanessa's here!" She said, looking up and seeing her best friend standing there, looking very annoyed indeed.

"Catty!" Vanessa said crossly, acting as if the entire scenario was perfectly normal, and from what little Lambert knew about Catty, it probably was, "Why aren't you answering your text messages!"

Catty winked saucily, "I've been a bit preoccupied. Kyle's been a bad, bad boy. Haven't you, Kyle?"

He nodded, not appearing remotely ashamed.

Vanessa eyed the recliner critically, "Please tell me you're being careful with the upholstery."

Both Catty and Kyle shared sheepish looks, "You could say that…" Trailed off Kyle.

Lambert paled and tugged on Vanessa's coat, "I want to go back home now." He said in a very, very small voice.

Catty smirked evilly, "Oh, look, Lambert's here!"

Vanessa ignored the comment and sighed heavily, "You know that we have a worksheet due in math two weeks from now. My expectations are not being met at all."

The time traveler pouted, "Aw, c'mon Vanessa, it's Christmas."

"Christmas Eve, Catty," she replied testily.

Lambert's eyes widened as he stared at Vanessa, drawing a correlation between her and a certain maroon-haired Follower.

Catty stretched like a, well, cat, and stared at her best friend, "You need to relax Vanessa. You and Lambert," the evil glint had returned to her eye and Lambert wanted desperately to crawl into a ball and start sucking his thumb, "Should stick around. We're playing charades next."

Kyle clapped his hands in excitement, "I love charades!"

Catty pet his head like one would pet a, well, cat, "I know you do." She cooed.

Lambert's disgustingly pale face grew disgustingly paler, "Vanessa, I really would like to go back to my apartment now." Sometimes Evil just got Too Evil.

Vanessa looked like she was about to say no, but just then her cellphone when off, she flipped it open, "Hello? Oh, hey Michael!" she muffled the phone with her hand and said to everyone, "Guys, it's Michael!"

Catty and Kyle all chorused rounds of, "Hi Michael!" While Lambert stared at everything but the leather clad couple.

Vanessa turned back to the phone, "They said hi. Oh, Catty wasn't doing her homework- I know she really needs some responsibility in her life. Well, she said something about charades…yes, yes I know what happened last time. To be fair, it was your fault since you never said you were allergic to candle wax-"

Lambert mouth-vomited for about the third time that night, "You know, I think I'll just show myself out." He said flatly, marching off towards the door.

Catty, Vanessa, and Kyle all watched him leave. Catty rolled her eyes, "Geez, what a weird ass."

Kyle nodded in agreement, pulling a hooded sweatshirt over his chain mail, "I never heard of such a reaction to charades before."

Catty sighed, pulling on some jeans and a tee shirt as she got candles and lit up the living room, "Maybe he just doesn't appreciate the ambiance of playing charades by candlelight?"

Vanessa shrugged, tossing back her blonde hair and pulling out a box called Disney Charades! and rifling through it. "Michael and I are green team!"

Kyle pouted, sitting cross legged across from her, "But I like being green team!"

Vanessa glared at him, and Kyle felt himself shirk back a bit.

Catty pulled out a card, "Okay guys, ready?" They nodded, and Catty started to mimic the movements of Donald the Duck.

---

Lambert heard squeals of laughter coming from behind him, and he did his best to block them out, not knowing what sort of horrible, sordid things were happening in The House of Kinky Horrors.

So focused was he on avoiding naughty thoughts, that he didn't even notice someone was walking on the same sidewalk as he. Because of his distraction, he ended up violently shouldering said person.

"Hey, watch where you're going you hombre estupido!" Came a vehement curse.

Lambert looked up and his eyes widened, "Oh no, not the one I fear most of all!"

---

Next Up: The Spirit of Bad Shit That's Going to Go Down.

Two more acts to go! I am FINISHING this Christmas! I VOW IT WITH MY VERY SOUL!