Miss Congeniality
By: Naeginnie6
Rating: PG13 Because of language, violence, and that's what the movie is rated anyways.
Summary: "Let me tell you something, pal. It ain't easy bein' in the FBI." The meanest, toughest, prettiest woman field agent in the Auror Division A is on a mission. Terrorists have been targeting the Miss United States pageant. And she, Lily Evans, is the only one who can nab the bad guys and save the 49 young women who are in this beauty pageant- I mean, uh- scholarship program.
Disclaimer: Now, let me put it to you straight. I don't own the rights to the movie, FBI, Miss United States, or anybody else pictured in this story!! Oh yeah, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, therefore, I do not own Harry Potter and/or any of the other characters associated with him and the books.
I walked into a local Burger Kind with James Potter and we waited for Victor Diggory to arrive. Now, you may be asking yourself, "Why the hell are they in a freaking Burger King?" For one thing, they let me pick the restaurant. It was partly in spite, after all, who in their right mind would take pleasure in a beauty pageant? Well, I'll tell you the predominant reason. I see no reason to go to some fancy restaurant when I can go to a local American fast-food joint and spend a fraction of the cost for a bit less quality, but satisfaction none-the-less.
James looked at his watch and sighed. "We're half and hour early. Let's get our food and wait." The teenage Muggles took our orders and took ten minutes to make them. Obviously the management wasn't too great, because I got a Biggie drink and fry instead of a medium, but who's complaining?
Just as we had dug into our greasy food, Mr. Diggory came in, walking fancily. "Tsk, tsk. Miss United States would never start a meal before all guests had arrived."
"Miss United States," I rebutted, "is a worthless wannabe preacher who wants 'World Peace' and other crap that will never, ever, ever happen…" I paused for a dramatic effect (and also because I couldn't think of what to say next) "in a million years."
"Now Evans, let's just get through this day in one piece, please?" James commanded with a polite question.
"Fine, but owy if Uh don huph to gu on wun of dose swim fast diwets." I said through a mouth full of French fries, which translated into English was, "Fine, but only if I don't have to go on one of those slim-fast diets."
"Ah, ah, ah!" Vicktor scolded. "Miss United States always chews with her mouth closed, and swallows before she speaks!"
I had the urge to say, 'I bet that's not all she swallows,' but I restrained myself and settled for, "Yeah, dats nwite."
He shook his head. "Please!" he said as he clutched his heart. "It is never 'yeah' but always 'yes'. Do you have no manners?"
Apparently not.
"Tonight," he addressed James, "we will begin the make-over. Come by the studio at precisely five-o-clock. Is that time suitable for you?"
"Yeah, I guess that would be fine," he replied.
"Ah, but Mr. James Potter never replies with 'yeah'. It is always the formal 'yes Monsieur', as any finely raised gentleman knows," I said with an air of arrogance.
"Very good!" Vicktor complimented. I couldn't believe this guy! What a dip; what a flake! His mother must be so ashamed… I bet she disowned him.
~*¤*~
Later that night we arrived at the "studio". I shall not bore you with gory, gruesome details of how they made me gorgeous. All you need to know was that it took an incredibly long time and I that was starving.
Being as ravenous as I was, I headed for the doughnut table. I could almost taste those boston crèmes melting in my mouth, filling me with their sweet, succulent taste. Key word being "almost".
As soon as I got over there, Vick handed me a celery stick. "Oh, no…" I said. "This is SO not fair! You said I wouldn't have to go on a diet!"
James waltzed up behind me. "Not technically. You specifically specified a slim-fast diet."
I wanted to kill him then and there. I took the celery and put on my happiest face. "Miss United States is always pleasant, even when eating rabbit food." I walked away, but not before charming some Bavarian crème onto the seat of his pants (which he failed to notice till we got back to HQ. He then scolded me saying no wands allowed from then on… Only guns… whatever those were. Don't worry, I know now.)
That night we worked on walking. Yes, walking. I have walked all my life, and they go around insulting the walk that I have walked for always. I practiced "gliding", or in other wordsm walking without falling, tripping, or landing on my butt or my head.
I had mastered it pretty well by the end of the night. Everybody came out and watched me walk in a skin-tight dress with little silky-type flaps that were attached to the back and then to my wrist by a shimmery bracelet that matched the deep purple of the dress. I only fell once going down the stairs, and that was before I took off my gun and ID's. I was progressing greatly, before the night was over.
Catching on? Oh yeah! You don't know how much I progressed by the time the next day had rolled around, which was an adventure all in itself… The orientation breakfast.
A/N: Sorry! Please do not kill me. I *KNOW* I haven't updated in soooo long, and believe me I just needed motivation. I got it, alright. Lol. Don't ask how, it just came to me. I hope to update WAY more often, so maybe once every week or so? I dunno, it depends on how much of a life I end up not having (very likely that I have a huge not-life).
