You are visiting Ella's Blog: Summer Vacation with the Flock. Welcome!
Hits: 3521
Date: Sometime during summer vacation.
Day Twenty Five: Saturday 11:06 PM
Weirdest. Day. Ever.
I guess you probably want to know, so I'll start at the very beginning, which I hear is a good checkpoint.
One of the only good things about Granny is that she sleeps like a fossil after traveling, so we were all up and about this morning while she was still dreaming of… whatever she dreams about… I don't want to speculate. Anyway, Fang and Angel were cleaning the kitchen, Max and Nudge the lounge, Gasman and I the hallway, Iggy and Mom the bathroom. We decided to leave the bedroom blitz until Granny had departed, as we'd probably need power tools.
Gazzy had flown up to the ceiling and was dusting the picture rails and the lights, as I straightened the ornaments and photos on the walls (there is an awesome collage up, I can tell you… hard work!) when the doorbell rang. It was about nine in the morning, so I figured we had a delivery or something, so as I yelled for the dogs to stay back, I opened the door to reveal a sight that was not nearly as scary as Lissa but just as disturbing.
Have you ever seen a cosplayer, reader? If you like manga, anime or comics, you probably have. Ever been to Comic Con? Star Wars convention? Then you've seen cosplay. You haven't lived until you've seen someone dressed as Chewbacca.
These cosplayers weren't The New Hope-esque, though. They weren't even James Bond. They were flock cosplayers. There was a short Max, an emo Fang complete with bondage pants, a Nudge with braces, Gasman with thick-rimmed glasses, Iggy with sight (and blue contact lenses) and Angel complete with a tutu, which was the most accurate representation of any flock member. They even had a Total, though he was a she, and a poodle. I tried not to be disappointed that there wasn't an Ella, but I guess you can't have everything, and life has been pretty sweet to me recently. Did I mention this blog has more average hits a day than Fang's Blog? Hellz yea, in ya face, Fang. Change your name to Toothpick while you still can.
I'm getting off topic again.
I freaked out when I saw the not-flock, and yelled for everyone to come and see, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Gazzy, who was right before me, belched in delight and tackled his doppelganger in a hug, while everyone crowded around and was like, "OMFG, this is so surreal!" at least, that's what Iggy said.
In hindsight, I should have realized that Max and Fang weren't there, and that they should have been. But no, I had to pet the poodle, whose name is Tigger, and not even alert Mom that they'd failed to come to the door.
"What is this racket? Why has nobody brought me my tea? Why can't you keep your adolescent voices down, I was asleep don't you know – Oh my goodness." Granny had emerged and pushed her way though the scrum to the cosplayers, where she stopped dead. Her hair still in curlers with her night cream on, I can safely say Granny was a sight… But as strange as we found her, it was nothing as to what she found the not-flock. I guess I forgot to mention they all had wings. Not as large as the real flock's wings, but there were enough feathers put together so well that Granny, without her contact lenses, really thought they were the flock… and that the actual flock had been cloned. I know, we know, that it's happened before, but Granny only reads old-lady magazines so she didn't… Which is why, after she'd stopped and stood as still as a tree for five seconds, she freaked out.
I'm aware that the rating on this blog is T, which is why I won't type out what Granny shrieked as she fled up the stairs, dressing-gown billowing out behind her like a grandmother bat. Let's just say Mom cringed and covered up Gazzy and Angel's ears, while the not-flock's mouths hit the floor. Where did such an old woman learn such foul language?!
However, dear reader, we both know that this is not the end of this mini-epic.
Granny sprinted up the stairs as if Iggy had strapped a jetpack to her butt and banged open the nearest door, which happened to be my room. Where Max and Fang were making out against a wall. To imagine what Granny sounded like when she screamed you have to pretend you are a dog whistle plugged into an amplifier, set on high and blasted out through a megaphone. Neighbours half a mile away have visited to complain.
In fact, it was so bad I'm not even going to try to type out what it sounded like. It would injure the screen. All you need to know is that the screech lasted a good minute and Granny only paused for breath long enough to gather her thoughts. Then she started yelling, eyes twitching, and said something like this:
"THIS IS A HEATHEN HOUSEHOLD AND IF MY ARTHUR WERE ALIVE TO SEE THIS HE'D HAVE PUT A STOP TO IT YEARS AGO! YOU ARE LIVING IN APPALLING PORNOGRAPHIC CONDITIONS, BUT IT'S NOT A SURPRISE, IS IT, VALENCIA, YOU'RE SUCH A SLUT YOU DON'T CARE! YOUR DAUGHTERS ARE CLEARLY JUST AS BAD AND HEADING DOWN THE SAME ROUTE YOU DID, SO ELLA IS CUT OUT OF MY WILL! I'LL BE DAMNED IF A DIME OF MY MONEY GOES TO HER! SHE'LL END UP WORKING IN A STRIP CLUB IN NEW JERSEY WITH SIX CHILDREN BY EX-CONS, AND YOU'LL JUST ENCOURAGE HER TO GET IT UP WITH WHOEVER'LL PAY, WON'T YOU, VALENCIA, BECAUSE IT'LL RUN IN THE FAMILY! OH, HAVEN'T YOU TOLD THEM, VALENCIA? THOUGHT YOU'D LET THAT SECRET DIE WITH JAMES, DIDN'T YOU, AND NEVER BOTHER TELLING ANYONE THAT THE ONLY REASON YOU GOT INTO VET SCHOOL WAS BECAUSE JAMES AND HIS DRUNK FRIENDS PAID TO HAVE YOU FEEL THEM UP! WELL THIS IS IT! I DON'T CARE WHAT SORT OF FREAK SHOW YOU'RE RUNNING, OR IF YOU THINK YOU'RE SAVING THE WORLD BY HOUSING DIRTY SCOUNDRELS, BIT YOU'LL ALWAYS BE A POOR STRIPPER FROM MEXICO CITY TRYING TO RUIN MY FAMILY!"
Excuse me, but I've never even been to New Jersey.
"So, Valencia, thank you for your hospitality, but no thank you. I'm getting a taxi back to Phoenix immediately. I have had enough."
Granny huffed back up the stairs, carefully ignoring my bedroom, grabbed her cases one by one and threw them down the stairs one by one. A piece of the banister is broken.
I don't quite know why – maybe it was the fact that she'd called my mother a slut, implied that my sister and brother were in a porno, perhaps it was years of being pushed around purely because I existed, but suddenly I had had enough too.
"No, Granny." I said quietly, looking the old woman straight in the eye. "You aren't leaving here until you've apologised to Mom for calling her a slut. You aren't leaving until you've handed back the ashtray that's in your pocket and told the flock that you're sorry for calling them a freak show. I don't want any of your money, but we are going to send you the bill for the repair work to the stairs, and you are going to send us a cheque. You are no longer going to come and stay in my parents' house whenever you feel like it: if we want you here we will invite you. You will never again refer to my mother or her family by derogatory names either. If she was good enough for your precious son and your husband, she's good enough for a lonely elderly lady who clearly has a complex about family relationships."
Shaking slightly, Granny reached inside her coat pocket and pulled out the glass ashtray that had been sitting on the coffee table since her visit, and muttered in a hollow voice, "I'm sorry I called you a slut, Valencia, and I'm sorry that I called you kids a freak show. Mail me the bill as soon as it arrives."
There was a dead silence as Granny turned around, picked up all of her cases and hauled them out the front door, past the cosplayers, who were nonplussed, and onto the street, where she hailed a cab and clearly paid him to step on the gas.
I'm pretty sure we've had the last laugh, though. Iggy just told me that he and Gasman poured green hair dye into Granny's tea tree shampoo yesterday.
Comments
Christeeen: OMFG I knew there was something dodgy going on! Not with your mother, Ella, obviously, but with Granny's mental health. Her eyes twitch?! Hahaha!
Lisssssaaaaa: Like, wow. I am lost for words.
Not_A_Cutter: I bet you are. Don't worry, Dr M, we still love you even if you broke a Commandment or two.
Samzurman: Or three or four.
Dr.M: Thank you, children.
*dramatic gasp* Betcha didn't see that one coming. I sure didn't!
Reviews, people. If you give me ideas for the FINAL TWO CHAPTERS, I'll stop using non-existent or Mindless Self Indulgence lyrics for chapter titles.
To the anonymous reviewer who told me I was weird, I thank you very much. Next time can you add something about the story? Thx ttyl lol xo, in the words of a fangirl.