Fifty Shades at Fault

Chapter 28

Spermalot

A/N: This actually was not the chapter I had originally intended. I was inspired last week from seeing a production of 'Spamalot'. You might find it quite eye-opening. Hope you like it.

Every sperm is sacred,

Every sperm is great.

If a sperm is wasted,

God gets quite irate.

"Three espressos, and one caramel latte to go."

"Coming right up." It's Abby who answers the call and she's grinning from ear to ear still unable to believe that mousy little her had the guts to do what she did two days ago after speaking with Grace. Talk about a revelation. She never knew she had it in her. Abby's self-esteem has risen considerably since then. Its done wonders for her productivity, too for it takes but a flash to finish the order. "Here you go. Three espressos and one caramel latte." Taking a glance at her Mickey Mouse watch, the one Rue had given her for Christmas one year she sees it is time for her break. Good. Wiping her hands on her white apron she practically skips to the back rest area, sits at the white wooden table, sips a coffee with sugar and cream and gleefully recalls the happy occasion:

It was while she walked out of the hospital toward her truck that she took Grace's words to heart: evict them while you still have the chance. Yes. The good doctor was right. She should. And she will! So, with new-found willpower flowing through her veins she stopped at New Frontiers, a health food store she shops at faithfully to ask for all the old cardboard packing boxes they haven't flattened and tossed away yet. Thank God there were several. She was going to need plenty for what she had in mind.

First thing upon arriving home, but after grabbing the boxes out of the back of her used Ford pickup truck and carrying into the house, she called a locksmith. He'd be there in an hour. Good. Her plan was going great. She took one of the boxes, a very large one into Leila's room and went to work tossing all her clothes and shoes she could find from the closet inside of it not caring to fold a single one. Next were the dresser drawers. She pulled each one out dumped all the contents: underwear, nightgowns, hosiery, sweatshirts and gym clothes; even Leila's favorite dildos got tossed into the box with a fury. She was on a quest and wasn't about to stop until completed. Filled to the brim she closed and taped it up and scrawled with a red felt pen: LEILAS. Then into a smaller box went the photos, small knickknacks, jewelry and keepsake items from on top of the dresser and nightstands. Ahh, satisfaction never felt so good.

After the locksmith had come and changed on every door she did the same with Cassie's clothes and assorted personal items as she had with Leila's. And there was no doubt she felt good about doing this necessary deed for she snidely chuckled the whole time. Take that you witch. I'll teach you. The finished result of her toil had her beaming with pride. Cassie the bitch's belongings were now boxed and ready to go. Their toiletries were next: makeup, hand cream, shampoo, soaps, etc. everything that was theirs from the bathroom thrown into one single brown package, not separated into two- hers and hers because Abby knew that would piss the hell out them. The trollops hated to share. Ha! Let them sort the items out themselves.

Abby was on a vengeance. She called Alton to come and help her carry the heavy boxes outside onto the cement driveway. He was more than willing to lend his assistance. Without any guilt she went into the kitchen threw all their food items out of the cupboards and fridge into a large black trash bag. It didn't matter whether the food was just bought or the bottles of wine half empty the stuff was going bye, bye. That meant the fudgesicles, and cartons of chocolate mint ice cream and blueberry gelato tucked down in the cold chill of the freezer. They weren't to her liking but to Leila's and Cassie's so out they go doomed to melt away inside the deep cavern of plastic darkness. Alton tied up, carried out and dumped the heavy bag in the green bin at the left side of the house. Whew! What gratification she felt!

Every remembrance of those two conniving bitches, the ones who made her feel like the biggest fool in the world, were vamoose now, gone for good. And so were they. She couldn't wait until Leila came home so she could see the look of shock on her face. This was going to be fantastic!

And it was. After spending the day with a cantankerous Cassie, Leila came home late that afternoon looking forward to taking a nice long relaxing jasmine scented bubble bath. Not. Gonna. Happen. Needless to say her stunned expression upon arriving home and finding her and Cassie's possessions boxed up and sitting in the driveway like they were ready for the Goodwill truck to come and remove them from the property was one for the books. She couldn't believe kind Abby would do such a hard- hearted thing.

Meanwhile, Abby and Alton sat in the family room just like old times, eating popcorn and watching an old movie: Gone with the Wind, and heavily anticipated Leila's return. Since her house-key was now useless Leila had to knock on the front door. Once. Twice. Thrice. Her efforts were being greatly ignored by two delighted film connoisseurs.

"Abby!" Leila cried, "Open up. I know you're in there."

Nada. Abby just went on watching the fall of Atlanta.

"Abby, please. Open the door."

Two more times of Leila's frantic whining and Abby could take no more. She gave up and finally opened the door but only a little, enough to see as much of a surprised Leila as she cared to. "What?"

"How come my and Cassie's stuff is out here in boxes?"

"Why do you think?"

"You're throwing us out? But why? Is it because of Cassie not wanting her baby? She'll come around, trust me."

"No she won't. And I don't like being made a fool of or taken advantage of. And you two did both. Plus I don't want scheming con artist tramps living with me so you guys are evicted."

Shit! It dawned on Leila the horrible fact that Abby now knew the truth. "But what am I supposed to do now, Abby? Where am I supposed to go?"

Before slamming the door in Leila's face Abby gave her answer. "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!"

The recollection of her determination that day makes Abby lightly chuckle. She looks over at the clock on the wall and notices that her break-time is over so better she get back to brewing coffee and espresso, and keeping the patrons satisfied for this is her last day. Abby gave her notice yesterday. She's leaving her job at the café in the mall for a new one, one she'll like even better. And she starts tomorrow.

Every sperm is wanted.

Every sperm is good.

Every sperm is needed,

in your neighborhood.

Meanwhile, at the hospital

It's been two days of pure hell: mainly, for the hospital staff. Finally, this evil obnoxious irritating diva is being discharged. Sighs of reliefs, high-fives and thank-yous to the Lord above can be heard filtering through the hospital floor and whispered at nurses station. They can't wait to get the drama queen out of there and into someone else's hands. She yells at everyone; gives snarky remarks to anybody who tries to lend her assistance. Her doctor doesn't want anything to do with her either. Has never once shown any interest in the child she gave birth to and that angers all the nurses and orderlies. The only nurse who won't take her crap is Bernese Rice. That black gal gives it right back to her. In an Eat my shit! kind of way. What an angel of mercy! Yes, they can't wait for the bitch to sign her discharge papers and get the hell out of there. They'll probably throw a party in honor of her departure. Maybe a farewell speech like, "Adios, you pain-in-the-ass. Time to get a real patient in here who appreciates our services."

Hmm, that would work just fine.

Let the heathens spill them,

on the dusty ground.

God will make them pay,

for every sperm that can't be found.

The slut-whore, er, Cassie's view

Oh, at last I'm leaving. I don't think I could have lasted another day. After two miserable days of rest, recoop and mediocre hospital food: I. Am. Out. Of. Here! What is holding Leila up? She's supposed to be bringing me decent clothes to put on. This awful cotton gown is a joke! I don't know what's more annoying this gown, the beep, beep, beep of the equipment or the nurse's constant: "Would you like to see your baby now?" How many times and how many ways do I have to say "No!" until they get the point? I have no desire to set eyes on the kid. No desire whatsoever. Where the hell is that stupid Leila? She knows I can't wait to leave this place! And Seattle. And Washington. And the West Coast! I've done my part of the deal. The sooner I get back to New York and my real life as Lady Caszee the better. Leila! Where are you! I'm almost finished with my makeup, which under these conditions looks pretty damn fantastic, and want to get dressed. I'm still curious whether Christian showed up or not. I haven't seen him at all. There's been no congratulatory note, no flowers, nothing. Though I do remember him mentioning something about not being a 'hearts and flowers' kind of guy. Or was. Maybe he thinks it's not his. Well, maybe it's not. But yet I did steal his sperm. But that doesn't mean his little swimmers worked. And then again it might be G… I mean he and I did fuck the entire week I went back to New York to visit him after I was inseminated. So… Oh, what the fuck does it matter. I don't care. I don't want the brat anyway. LEILA! Where the fuck… finally, her Royal Idiotness just walked through the door.

Every sperm is useful.

Every sperm is fine.

God needs everybody's.

Yours, and yours, and mine!

Her Royal Idiotness, er, Leila's view

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I'm so darn late. Cassie is going to kill me! But yet she's going to kill me anyway because I didn't tell her yesterday that Abby threw us out of her house. I was shocked to come home and find all our stuff packed up and in the driveway! Totally unprepared for it! She even went so far as to change the locks on the doors? Talk about extreme. How did she find out what Cass and I were up to anyway? Or was it all about the baby. I think Abby and I should have talked first and then she could have given me warning, but no. She wouldn't even let me inside. And talk about evasive. Hardly gave me the time of day. And I thought she was so nice. I had no idea what to do next, or where to go. So I took a chance and went to my old apartment building hoping that maybe for the grace of God my apartment hadn't been rented out yet so I could use it. Ricky, the landlord said sure, no problem. But on one condition: I had to let him fuck me first. And all this time I thought that fat slob was gay. The thought repulsed me. But when you're desperate, a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do, right? So I did. Eww! Yuck! Ugh! I've showered three times already and still feel grimy from his lardy, sweaty body! And what a tiny dick! I've seen bigger baby carrots. I doubt Cass will like the clothes I've got for her. But hey, seeing that the boxes filled with her stuff are still in my car, I did the best I could. Rummaging through and trying to find anything presentable and unwrinkled was no easy task. And this traffic, it's so slow today. You'd think we were in New York. Get a move on will you! I'm late! What I wouldn't give for a nice hot of coffee from Starbucks but I don't have the time. Grrr… Oh, good we're moving now. Thank goodness the hospital isn't too far away. Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry. Boy, I need that coffee. And wouldn't you know just my luck there's no parking. The lot's full. Gotta find one… gotta find one… Damn! Oh, wait, look there's one. Three blocks away! Oh well. Guess it's better than nothing. Grab the bag, can't forget the bag of clothes and run. Run, run, run, run, run. I really need coffee. Whew! Made it. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe. I want cof-fee! Okay, rush inside, find the elevators. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee. Come on, come on, one of you fucking elevators… ah, finally. Going up. Up, up, up, up, up. ping Oh good, here we are. At last! Gotta find the room. Room, room, room, room, room, oh yes, right there. Ooo, Who's the hotty standing by the door? The other one yesterday wasn't so good looking but this guy, mmm. But, he's not as handsome as Master. No one is as handsome as Master. Oh, I hear Her Majesty bellow now. That's right. She's the reason I'm here. "Hi Cassie. Sorry I'm late but…"

So let the heathens sill them,

on mountain, hill and plain.

God will strike them down,

for every sperm that's spilled in vain.

Truly Cassie is pissed at Leila, won't even let her give an explanation, just stands by the side of the bed, hands on her hips and tapping her right foot. Not to mention having a huge scowl on her face. "But what. You stop for coffee or something?"

"No, there was traffic and I-I couldn't find a parking place. I came as fast as I could." A frazzled Leila closes the door and hands Cassie the bag unable to believe her impatience. "Here are your clothes."

Cassie practically rips the bag from her hand and looks inside. She's not too happy with what she finds. "What's this?" she asks picking up a pair of navy blue Levi's and purple cotton tee. "You really expect me to wear these clothes? They're awful. And wrinkled!"

"Too bad. In case you're wondering why they're wrinkled, it's because they're all in boxes. And they're in boxes because Abby threw us out of her house. And Abby threw us out of her house because she doesn't want us living there anymore. And she doesn't want us living there anymore because she somehow found out about scheme. Who from, I don't know. So as she put it, con-artists tramps like us have been evicted. So quit whining about your clothes!"

"Shit!" Cassie is now one furious bitch. She grumbles off to the tiny bathroom and slams the door so she can change.

Leila ain't thrilled with of the situation they're in either or with Cassie's rotten attitude. "You know," she remarks, leaning against the closed bathroom door, "I don't think it helped much that you wouldn't have anything to do with the baby."

"Boo, hoo, hoo." The bathroom door swings open knocking Leila to the side. "Well, if she's going to be that sensitive about it then it's a good thing she threw us out because nothing's going to change."

"Not even a little? You're not even the tiniest bit curious about the baby you and Master had?"

"No. And quit calling him your Master! Christian Grey is NOT your Master! Haven't you realized that by now? To be extremely honest I don't even think it is Christian's baby."

Leila can't believe her ears. "Why would you say that? Of course it's his baby. You stole the sperm, I watched you be inseminated with it. What would make you think otherwise?"

"Because. We don't have any idea that sperm of his even worked."

"Well, dummy," she snorts, "How do you explain your pregnancy then if it didn't?"

"Leila, Leila, Leila," Cassie chants, shaking her head, "God you are a naïve twit. Think back, will you? I left the next day, right? And was gone for a week? Well, I went back to New York. And spent the whole time with my ex-boyfriend in his bed, and in his playroom. Unprotected. Get it?"

The sound of Leila's gasp could be heard around the world. "You, you mean, that might be Mr. C's baby instead?"

"Bing-go."

"But why did you do that? And why didn't you tell me?"

Our Diva semi- disregards the question; searches through her purse for a silver tube. "Call it an insurance policy. It was his idea. The plan was for me to get pregnant, right? This was a guarantee I would be. See? And where is it written in stone I have to tell you who I fuck and when?" She finds the tube and proceeds to reapply her lipstick.

"But the plan was for it to be Mas… I mean, Christian's baby!"

"Well if I'm not mistaken," she answers smacking her ruby-red lips, "The plan was that even if the baby wasn't his the insecure wifey-poo would never return to him simply because her ever-unfaithful husband fucked another woman. Am I right or not? At least this is what I was told. So I don't see what the big problem is?"

"Because, if Christian isn't the father, then you being the mother have to take responsibility for it…"

Disgusted with Leila's ignorance, Cassie huffs, "Seriously? You expect me to play 'Mommy Dearest'?"

"Cassie, that's your child over there." She pleads, "You can't just abandon it like it was an old shoe or something."

"Look, no child in their right mind would want me for a mother. I hate kids."

"Why do you hate them?"

"That's really none of your God damn business, Leila."

"What if the paternity test comes back and it is Mr. C's baby? Are you going to tell him?"

"What is with the twenty questions? The paternity test is to prove whether Christian is or isn't the father, not who the father is in case Christian isn't. I sure as hell am not providing a living soul with the information of whom and I advise you not to either. You are well aware that if your old Dom, and I sure as shit am not talking about Grey, finds out you spilled the beans or any beans pertaining to this little arrangement here, your life will not be worth living. And no, I'm not telling him. No child would want my ex for a father any more than they want me for a mother. Because he hates the sniveling brats even more than I do!"

She's offended by this horrible woman's crassness, "Then if you hate children so much why'd you even agree to do this?"

"Simple. The money."

A veil has been lifted from poor Leila's eyes. And she is repulsed at the revelation. She has just seen the slut whore for what she really is: an insincere wretched money-grubbing devil. "You really are a cold-hearted bitch. I'm so glad you aren't my real sister."

"Aw, I'm crushed. You aren't the first one to tell me ice runs through my veins. Probably won't be the last one either." Cassie checks herself one last time in the bathroom mirror, "Well, I'm out of here. I'll go sign those papers then we can go. Or should I call a cab now, Leila?"

She doesn't answer; she can't. She was unaware Cassie would abandon the baby; that she hated children. And too pissed off with herself with being so stupid and gullible… and a bad choice of character. Leila slowly moves to the far window and peers out onto the Seattle skyline feeling too late regret for her part in this ridiculous act of revenge. Why did I let my New York Master talk me into this?

"Leila, answer me!"

"Go ahead if you don't want your clothes."

Cassie's evil laugh vibrates off the room's pale white walls. "Keep them. They're no good to me wrinkled." Flinging her purse over her shoulder she opens the door and is greeted with unsuspected company.

"Cassandra Zane, you're coming with us."

"Get your hands off me! And why should I do that?"

"Because," replies the officer in blue, "You're under arrest."

Every sperm is sacred,

Every sperm is great.

If a sperm is wasted,

God… gets… quite…I-RATE!

Song: 'Every Sperm is Sacred' from Monty Python's 'The Meaning of Life'.

AA/N: First off, I must explain that "Spamalot' is a stage musical based on Monty Python's 'In Search of the Holy Grail'. For those of you who are not familiar with Monty Python* or even if you are, I suggest you go to Youtube and watch the video for this song. It is a hoot! To all the fans, readers and reviewers: you guys are the best and I appreciate each and every one of you.

*Monty Python's Flying Circus is a hilarious British TV comedy series from the '70s. I loved it. Thank heaven for the BBC.