Readers:
The countdown continues. I had to repress the urge to write a sappy 'Lane & Dave' story, after I read a bunch of the most revolting stories that made me feel all warm inside. But never fear, Dave makes his debut appearance here! With Lane! And Tristan! And Paris! And Jess! And Rory! And LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS of snow! Hurrah! Satirists rejoice!
authors-anonymous
---
Rory woke up, feeling warm and gooey inside. 'Hmmm...' she wondered, 'I wonder why I'm feeling all warm and gooey?' Rory would have pondered this further, but was interrupted by the telephone ringing.
"Mom!" Rory called, "where's the phone?" Rory pulled herself out of bed and padded into the kitchen. "Mom?" Rory then padded into the living room. "Mom? Where are you?" Rory padded to several other locations, before she remembered that the phone was ringing, and that was the reason that she got out of bed in the first place, so Rory decided that she should get the phone before it stopped ringing, so Rory looked for the phone and listened to its ring and then she realized that not only was this a typical bad writers never ending sentence, but that the phone would be located under the pillows and blankets on the couch that many movie-watchings, make- outings and heart-to-heartings had taken place on, and for some reason was almost as big a star as the infamous Max Medina, who was usually written as a mean mean man, hardly ever the romeo he obviously was...hey, guess what? THE PHONE WAS STILL RINGING!!!
"Hello?" Rory said sweetly.
"Rory, I have to ask you the BIGGEST favor ever."
"Lane?"
"Yes."
"Okay, what do you need?" asked Rory, sitting down on the couch [mention #2] and pulling her legs up under her.
"Well, you know Dave right?"
"The guy who's in your band? Yes, I think I remember him."
"Okay, well, we were going to have out first official 'date' tonight, but his parents have to go to a funeral and are taking the car that would have taken us to our date in Hartford."
"That blows!"
"Did you just say blows?" asked Lane, who was huddled in her closet (dun dun dun) [AN: Sorry, I couldn't resist!] listening to her new Britney Spears, Live in Concert cd.
"I guess my inner Homie-G took over for a minute. Sorry about that."
"No problem. But I still have one."
"What?" asked Rory, misinterpreting her comment.
"A problem."
"Oh right. Well why don't you guys take a bus or a cab or something?"
"Cabs are too expensive, and Dave is allergic to buses."
"Oh, sure..." Rory replied, completely oblivious to the blatant lies that the author was making Lane say to get a house full of teenagers in the snow.
"But I have an idea."
"Shoot."
"Well, I was wondering if maybe Dave and I could come over to your house."
"And this is romantic...how?" asked Rory.
"Well, it's close, and we could order pizza or get Luke's or something, and listen to music or sit on your couch [mention #3] or talk or..."
"Okay, you convinced me. I'll just make myself scarce."
"No, you can stay in your room, I'm sure Dave won't mind."
"Yeah, and staying in my room all evening on Saturday night sounds like loads of fun," replied Rory sarcastically.
"Well...we could have a double date!" Lane exclaimed, and would have jumped up and down if she hadn't been sitting.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" asked Rory.
"What?"
"I don't have a boyfriend."
"Get Tristan to come."
"Tristan? I don't know. We're just friends."
"Friends?" Lane exclaimed astonished at her best friends naivety, "I've seen the way he looks at you Rory Gilmore, and he doesn't want to be 'friends'".
"Oh, I didn't tell you, did I?" Rory asked, and then proceeded to tell Lane about the 'just friends' deal that happened exactly 20 chapters ago. [AN: And I didn't even need to check!]
"I can't believe you didn't tell me!" Lane exclaimed. "Well, invite him anyway. And you can invite Jess and Dean and Paris..."
"Tristan, Jess, AND Dean? Are you crazy?"
Lane ignored Rory. "Can I come over early to get dressed and choose music and stuff?"
"Oh, sure."
"Great. Oh, Mama Kim. Gotta go."
Rory hung up slowly. Before she would decide who to invite, she would need so coffee. With a scribbled note to her mother, she pulled on a sweater and set off too Luke's.
---
"Coffee?" Luke asked, filling a huge mug with the black ambrosia.
Rory sat at the counter, and took a huge gulp. "Mmm..." she said, and breathed in the heavenly smell.
"Good?" Jess asked, coming down the stairs.
"You have no idea."
"Oh, yes I do." Jess responded, pouring himself a cup and sitting next to her. "So, read any good books lately?"
As Rory and Jess bickered (Hemmingway vs. The Fountain Head {the two most overused books/authors around}- which was better?) Luke leaned against the counter, watching them.
Luke's Thoughts: "Wow, look at them go. Hey, this is weird. Why do I have my own thinking bubble? Some authors are quite strange. Back to Jess and Rory. Why are they called Literali stories? Wouldn't it be easier to call them Jrory's? And why are stories about me and Lorelai called Java Junkies? I hate java. I probably hate junkies. Wouldn't dinerite's be better? Or Lukelai's? What about nothing? Why is it always assumed that I secretly love Lorelai?"
[Author Interruption: The answer to these and other burning questions, coming soon to a story near you!]
More Luke's Thoughts: "Oh, but Jess would be really good for Rory. I mean, Rory would be really good for Jess. Mmmm...Jess. Hey, I didn't just think that, did I? No, probably not. I wonder if Jess and Rory will ever get together. Isn't it wrong for me and Lorelai to get together if Jess and Rory get together? Cousins by marriage...euchh. But I could get together with Rory and Lorelai with Jess...Lorelai and Jess. I'll kill the punk!"
Jess looked up in time to see Luke storm off. "That's weird."
"What is?" asked Rory.
"Luke just stormed off. [FORESHADOWING:] So, what are you doing tonight?"
"Oh, nothing much. Hey, do you want to come over tonight?"
Jess raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"Lane and Dave are having their first 'date' at my house so we decided that we'd make an evening of it and invite a bunch of people."
Jess sighed inwardly. "I'll see."
Rory stood up and put on her jacket (which she never actually took off, but whatever), "it'll be fun..." she wielded.
"I'll see," Jess said firmly. "Rory?" he called, as he watched the girl of his dreams walk out of the diner.
"Yes?"
"Why are you wearing your pajamas?"
Rory looked down and turned bright red.
Jess smirked. [AN: Which, as everyone knows, is the only facial expression Jess has, other then when he smiles at Rory when no one else is around. Oh, he's sooooo dreamy!]
Rory turned and with as much dignity as she could muster (after the blatant betrayal by the author) walked out of the diner.
---
Rory stared into her closet (dun dun dun) [AN: No comment.] attempting to find something (anything!) to wear. She was slightly daunted by the fact that she had enough jackets to never wear the same one twice, but only slightly. She settled on a baby blue sleeveless shirt with...
[Insert a bunch of meaningless words about what she chose, obviously identical to what the author was wearing at the time of writing or wished to be wearing at time of writing. But not what this particular author is wearing or wished to be wearing, because this particular author doesn't wear baby blue shirts or wish to wear baby blue shirts. Ever. This author doesn't even know what baby blue looks like, and honestly doesn't wish that she knew. And this author also wonders (and wishes that she hadn't) if it should be considered tacky that Rory would wear a shirt that is described in the same way as her eyes in EVERY SINGLE STORY EVER WRITTEN!!!!! The author got a bit carried away there. She is sorry. And while the author has interrupted the story for a meaningless ramble (as many horrible horrible authors do- but not this one because she's only mocking, and you can't mock the mocking!) she wants to inform you of what Chapter 25 will be satirizing, so each and every reader can eagerly anticipate it. But not now. The author apologizes, and gets back to the somewhat mediocre story. Starting...now.]
After Rory had pulled on her -
{insert words about shirt here, just incase the reader forgot what was written on it from the thirty page description that is usually accompanied whenever Rory puts on or takes off her clothes.}
- shirt and her new pair of -
{insert words about shorts here, see ramble above to save finger strength...}
- shorts, Rory pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and slipped on a pair of designer flip-flops -
{duh, like sure like Rory would like be willing to like pay like sixty like dollars for a like pair of like plastic shoes when she could like be like buying a like book or like something. Like, no duh!}
- before giving herself a final look over. 'Damn!' she thought.
{don't get me started.}
'Cockadoodledoo!'
"Mom?" called Rory. "Was that you?" After a few more barnyard sounds, Rory had successfully eliminated the toaster, the coffee maker, the ice cube tray and her mother from the appliances/people who could have made the sound. That left only one thing. "Ohh! The door! I think I'll go get that!" Rory said, to save to the author having to type what she was doing.
[AN: It's a good writing technique kids!]
After Rory's monologue on going to the door, opening it and finding Lane outside, she was utterly fatigued, and sat on the couch [mention #4].
"Rory, what are you wearing?" asked Lane, utterly panicked, but trying hard to hide it.
"Uh...?"
"I mean tonight."
"Nothing."
Lane blanched. Like keeping Dave around with Rory IN clothes wasn't hard enough. "What?"
"I mean, nothing special. Jeans or something."
"Oh, good."
"Lane," Rory said reprovingly, "Dave is crazy about you. I believe he's even told you so in several stories."
"Yes, but in the said stories, doesn't my mother catch me?"
"Well, yes..." Rory admitted, grudgingly.
"Is that a sign? It is, I knew this was a bad idea. My mother is going to catch me and-"
"Lane! Calm down. How about we go get ready?"
"Get ready...good, I can do that. Can I wear your {insert item of clothing that Rory would never own, never mind wear}?
---
Three hours later:
Lane and Rory were dressed in god knows what and were waiting for their men to arrive. By men I mean Dave and possibly some other guy who Rory knew, but hadn't invited.
'Cockadoodledoo!'
"Oh good, they're here!" Rory said, and jumped up. Lane quickly pressed play on the cd player and listened in satisfaction when some crappy artist filled the room. Then she and Rory went to the door.
"Dave!" Lane greeted enthusiastically, and pulled him inside. Paris stood uncomfortably on the front step.
"Come in Paris!" Rory said, and took her coat from her. "I didn't know you knew Dave?"
"Oh yeah," she replied abstractedly, "old friends, I and him. Known each other since birth or something ridiculously unlikely. Can I use your bathroom?"
"Oh, sure, right that way."
'Cockadoodledoo!'
"Tristan! You came!"
"Of course I did," Tristan said, admiring her extremely tight outfit. "Would you like to?"
"What?" asked Rory.
"Nothing. So am I going to stand out here all night?"
"Oh, of course not! Come on in. Dave is here, and for some reason so is Paris."
"Dave? Dave Rygowsky?"
"Tris, man!" Dave said, turning around to see 'Tris'.
"Long time no see buddy!" Tristan said, and pulled him into a tight bear hug.
"Where do you know each other from?" asked Lane, slightly nervous that she didn't want to know the answer.
"Oh, who knows?" answered Dave.
Just then, some gross song came on and the five (Paris had come out of the bathroom wearing a shirt that showed several inches of skin and a pink dog collar, so yes, before you start getting all math-y on me, there were five) started to get jiggy with it.
"It's getting hot in herre So take off all your clothes... I am getting so hot I'm gonna take my clothes off!"
[These verses where repeated for the duration of the song, with the males and females (respectively) taking turns with both parts. Fun was had by all, except the author who had to actually find the damn lyrics and realized that there are less than 25 words in the entire song.]
Rory giggled. "Oh, I'll be right back! Lane, Paris, come with me please!"
Lane and Paris obediently followed Rory into the kitchen.
"What is it Gilmore?" asked an extremely pissed Paris. [AN: Gotta love alliteration!]
"Umm...I actually can't remember." Rory answered, wrinkling her brow.
"Oh, don't worry about it!" Lane said, getting a bunch of beers from the fridge. "That happens in stories all the time. We have to go off together. It's like...the law!"
"Oh, okay!" Rory replied, feeling much better about herself.
Paris looked on in disbelief. "So this served absolutely no purpose?"
"Come Paris, lighten up!" Rory said, fluffing her hair. "This is supposed to be a party!"
"Since when?" asked Lane, and looked down at her open beer.
"Oh my gosh!" Rory the chaste said, and put all of the beer back in the fridge. "I don't know what came over us!"
Paris took off her collar. "I don't know either. Oh well, looks like we'll just need to have some old fashioned fun!"
"Okay, you two get back there. I think I need to change out of this tube top!" Rory said, and went into her room. Paris excused herself as well, and Lane had to face the boys alone.
---
What had transpired when the girls where in the kitchen:
...
Um, yeah.
---
Rory pushed up her window. "Jess?"
"Hey," Jess said, emerging from the bushes.
"Do you want to come in?"
Jess pulled himself through the window. "Sure." He smirked when he saw Rory's pajamas folded on her bed.
"Stop that."
"Stop what?" asked Jess, taking Rory's hand and pulling her into the living room, where Tristan, Paris, Dave, Lane and now Jess and Rory (as promised) were sitting on the couch [mention #3918562462984], watching a movie. Rory snuggled down next to Tristan and Jess somehow found Paris in close proximity to his lap. No one was watching the movie.
---
A few hours later, Rory looked up from Tristans oh-so-dreamy blue eyes. "Um guys..." asked Rory, startling the other two couples. "What month is it?"
"Suddenly get an urge to write a term paper?" asked Jess, sarcastically.
"It's May. Why?" asked Dave.
"Well, it's snowing."
Actually, Rory dear, it was more than snowing. It was...okay, it was snowing, but really really hard. It was a snow 'storm' [AN: Get the foreshadowing?] and the six were trapped.
---
Meanwhile, Lorelai was trapped with Luke at the diner, as was usual when situations such as these came up. Since she was such a totally cool mother, she didn't really mind that Rory and five other teenagers were going to be doing teenager things in her house. Unsupervised teenage things in her house. Oh well, that's Lorelai for you.
---
Everyone had just finished calling their parents/guardians to tell them that they would be trapped at Rory's house. Rory, being the generous host that she was, hauled out six sleeping bags (being the avid camper that she was, she obviously had six sleeping bags) and gave cute pajamas to the girls and big t-shirts to the guys. Unfortunatly, for toothbrushes they were on their own.
Once everyone had hunkered down, Rory between Tristan and Jess, Paris between Jess and Lane and Tristan next to Dave and Rory (just so you know), they watched another few movies, drank some sodas (or coffee, in Rory's case) and eventually fell asleep.
[Due to the rating of this story, the hanky-panky that took place in this story won't actually take place in this story. For all of you less than thirteen year olds out there who are actually reading.]
When the six woke up the next morning, Jess offered to make breakfast with the breakfast making material that had magically appeared in the Gilmore kitchen and there was some eating and some flirting and some giggling and some secret telling and then the six noticed that the snow had mysteriously melted and then they all said goodbye and hugged and kissed and wrote down phone numbers and exchanged friendship braceletes and once everyone had finally left Rory in her solitude, the readers were forced to realize that the author had finally run out of things to satirize/plagerize for the snowed-in/bad music chapter. But not for long.
---
---
Whew! That was like seriously long! I hope it was enjoyable and slightly entertaining. Due to the amount of people saying that they want G reviews, I've decided to refuse to read anything that is less that PG. Just to warn you. So you'd all better look up "fornication" and use it in your reviews. And there had better be some reviews, because I'm going to fail my Biology midterm due to my lack of studying and lots of writing.
Please read the following:
The next chapter is not only going to be a satire in the actual chapter, but the 'authors notes' are going to be parodies of crappy 'authors notes'. Just so you don't think I've lost my mind.
For those of you who are unaware, the results of the first offical GG Fan Fic Awards are posted. Thanks to you, this story won best satire or something ridiculous like that. To check it out, and other good stories (because believe it or not, there actually are some!) here's the address. I hope posting it isn't against some law or something.
[www . after - tonight . net / fan fic / winners . html] (ignore the spaces!)
Coming soon...my acceptance speech!
---
The countdown continues. I had to repress the urge to write a sappy 'Lane & Dave' story, after I read a bunch of the most revolting stories that made me feel all warm inside. But never fear, Dave makes his debut appearance here! With Lane! And Tristan! And Paris! And Jess! And Rory! And LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS of snow! Hurrah! Satirists rejoice!
authors-anonymous
---
Rory woke up, feeling warm and gooey inside. 'Hmmm...' she wondered, 'I wonder why I'm feeling all warm and gooey?' Rory would have pondered this further, but was interrupted by the telephone ringing.
"Mom!" Rory called, "where's the phone?" Rory pulled herself out of bed and padded into the kitchen. "Mom?" Rory then padded into the living room. "Mom? Where are you?" Rory padded to several other locations, before she remembered that the phone was ringing, and that was the reason that she got out of bed in the first place, so Rory decided that she should get the phone before it stopped ringing, so Rory looked for the phone and listened to its ring and then she realized that not only was this a typical bad writers never ending sentence, but that the phone would be located under the pillows and blankets on the couch that many movie-watchings, make- outings and heart-to-heartings had taken place on, and for some reason was almost as big a star as the infamous Max Medina, who was usually written as a mean mean man, hardly ever the romeo he obviously was...hey, guess what? THE PHONE WAS STILL RINGING!!!
"Hello?" Rory said sweetly.
"Rory, I have to ask you the BIGGEST favor ever."
"Lane?"
"Yes."
"Okay, what do you need?" asked Rory, sitting down on the couch [mention #2] and pulling her legs up under her.
"Well, you know Dave right?"
"The guy who's in your band? Yes, I think I remember him."
"Okay, well, we were going to have out first official 'date' tonight, but his parents have to go to a funeral and are taking the car that would have taken us to our date in Hartford."
"That blows!"
"Did you just say blows?" asked Lane, who was huddled in her closet (dun dun dun) [AN: Sorry, I couldn't resist!] listening to her new Britney Spears, Live in Concert cd.
"I guess my inner Homie-G took over for a minute. Sorry about that."
"No problem. But I still have one."
"What?" asked Rory, misinterpreting her comment.
"A problem."
"Oh right. Well why don't you guys take a bus or a cab or something?"
"Cabs are too expensive, and Dave is allergic to buses."
"Oh, sure..." Rory replied, completely oblivious to the blatant lies that the author was making Lane say to get a house full of teenagers in the snow.
"But I have an idea."
"Shoot."
"Well, I was wondering if maybe Dave and I could come over to your house."
"And this is romantic...how?" asked Rory.
"Well, it's close, and we could order pizza or get Luke's or something, and listen to music or sit on your couch [mention #3] or talk or..."
"Okay, you convinced me. I'll just make myself scarce."
"No, you can stay in your room, I'm sure Dave won't mind."
"Yeah, and staying in my room all evening on Saturday night sounds like loads of fun," replied Rory sarcastically.
"Well...we could have a double date!" Lane exclaimed, and would have jumped up and down if she hadn't been sitting.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" asked Rory.
"What?"
"I don't have a boyfriend."
"Get Tristan to come."
"Tristan? I don't know. We're just friends."
"Friends?" Lane exclaimed astonished at her best friends naivety, "I've seen the way he looks at you Rory Gilmore, and he doesn't want to be 'friends'".
"Oh, I didn't tell you, did I?" Rory asked, and then proceeded to tell Lane about the 'just friends' deal that happened exactly 20 chapters ago. [AN: And I didn't even need to check!]
"I can't believe you didn't tell me!" Lane exclaimed. "Well, invite him anyway. And you can invite Jess and Dean and Paris..."
"Tristan, Jess, AND Dean? Are you crazy?"
Lane ignored Rory. "Can I come over early to get dressed and choose music and stuff?"
"Oh, sure."
"Great. Oh, Mama Kim. Gotta go."
Rory hung up slowly. Before she would decide who to invite, she would need so coffee. With a scribbled note to her mother, she pulled on a sweater and set off too Luke's.
---
"Coffee?" Luke asked, filling a huge mug with the black ambrosia.
Rory sat at the counter, and took a huge gulp. "Mmm..." she said, and breathed in the heavenly smell.
"Good?" Jess asked, coming down the stairs.
"You have no idea."
"Oh, yes I do." Jess responded, pouring himself a cup and sitting next to her. "So, read any good books lately?"
As Rory and Jess bickered (Hemmingway vs. The Fountain Head {the two most overused books/authors around}- which was better?) Luke leaned against the counter, watching them.
Luke's Thoughts: "Wow, look at them go. Hey, this is weird. Why do I have my own thinking bubble? Some authors are quite strange. Back to Jess and Rory. Why are they called Literali stories? Wouldn't it be easier to call them Jrory's? And why are stories about me and Lorelai called Java Junkies? I hate java. I probably hate junkies. Wouldn't dinerite's be better? Or Lukelai's? What about nothing? Why is it always assumed that I secretly love Lorelai?"
[Author Interruption: The answer to these and other burning questions, coming soon to a story near you!]
More Luke's Thoughts: "Oh, but Jess would be really good for Rory. I mean, Rory would be really good for Jess. Mmmm...Jess. Hey, I didn't just think that, did I? No, probably not. I wonder if Jess and Rory will ever get together. Isn't it wrong for me and Lorelai to get together if Jess and Rory get together? Cousins by marriage...euchh. But I could get together with Rory and Lorelai with Jess...Lorelai and Jess. I'll kill the punk!"
Jess looked up in time to see Luke storm off. "That's weird."
"What is?" asked Rory.
"Luke just stormed off. [FORESHADOWING:] So, what are you doing tonight?"
"Oh, nothing much. Hey, do you want to come over tonight?"
Jess raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"Lane and Dave are having their first 'date' at my house so we decided that we'd make an evening of it and invite a bunch of people."
Jess sighed inwardly. "I'll see."
Rory stood up and put on her jacket (which she never actually took off, but whatever), "it'll be fun..." she wielded.
"I'll see," Jess said firmly. "Rory?" he called, as he watched the girl of his dreams walk out of the diner.
"Yes?"
"Why are you wearing your pajamas?"
Rory looked down and turned bright red.
Jess smirked. [AN: Which, as everyone knows, is the only facial expression Jess has, other then when he smiles at Rory when no one else is around. Oh, he's sooooo dreamy!]
Rory turned and with as much dignity as she could muster (after the blatant betrayal by the author) walked out of the diner.
---
Rory stared into her closet (dun dun dun) [AN: No comment.] attempting to find something (anything!) to wear. She was slightly daunted by the fact that she had enough jackets to never wear the same one twice, but only slightly. She settled on a baby blue sleeveless shirt with...
[Insert a bunch of meaningless words about what she chose, obviously identical to what the author was wearing at the time of writing or wished to be wearing at time of writing. But not what this particular author is wearing or wished to be wearing, because this particular author doesn't wear baby blue shirts or wish to wear baby blue shirts. Ever. This author doesn't even know what baby blue looks like, and honestly doesn't wish that she knew. And this author also wonders (and wishes that she hadn't) if it should be considered tacky that Rory would wear a shirt that is described in the same way as her eyes in EVERY SINGLE STORY EVER WRITTEN!!!!! The author got a bit carried away there. She is sorry. And while the author has interrupted the story for a meaningless ramble (as many horrible horrible authors do- but not this one because she's only mocking, and you can't mock the mocking!) she wants to inform you of what Chapter 25 will be satirizing, so each and every reader can eagerly anticipate it. But not now. The author apologizes, and gets back to the somewhat mediocre story. Starting...now.]
After Rory had pulled on her -
{insert words about shirt here, just incase the reader forgot what was written on it from the thirty page description that is usually accompanied whenever Rory puts on or takes off her clothes.}
- shirt and her new pair of -
{insert words about shorts here, see ramble above to save finger strength...}
- shorts, Rory pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and slipped on a pair of designer flip-flops -
{duh, like sure like Rory would like be willing to like pay like sixty like dollars for a like pair of like plastic shoes when she could like be like buying a like book or like something. Like, no duh!}
- before giving herself a final look over. 'Damn!' she thought.
{don't get me started.}
'Cockadoodledoo!'
"Mom?" called Rory. "Was that you?" After a few more barnyard sounds, Rory had successfully eliminated the toaster, the coffee maker, the ice cube tray and her mother from the appliances/people who could have made the sound. That left only one thing. "Ohh! The door! I think I'll go get that!" Rory said, to save to the author having to type what she was doing.
[AN: It's a good writing technique kids!]
After Rory's monologue on going to the door, opening it and finding Lane outside, she was utterly fatigued, and sat on the couch [mention #4].
"Rory, what are you wearing?" asked Lane, utterly panicked, but trying hard to hide it.
"Uh...?"
"I mean tonight."
"Nothing."
Lane blanched. Like keeping Dave around with Rory IN clothes wasn't hard enough. "What?"
"I mean, nothing special. Jeans or something."
"Oh, good."
"Lane," Rory said reprovingly, "Dave is crazy about you. I believe he's even told you so in several stories."
"Yes, but in the said stories, doesn't my mother catch me?"
"Well, yes..." Rory admitted, grudgingly.
"Is that a sign? It is, I knew this was a bad idea. My mother is going to catch me and-"
"Lane! Calm down. How about we go get ready?"
"Get ready...good, I can do that. Can I wear your {insert item of clothing that Rory would never own, never mind wear}?
---
Three hours later:
Lane and Rory were dressed in god knows what and were waiting for their men to arrive. By men I mean Dave and possibly some other guy who Rory knew, but hadn't invited.
'Cockadoodledoo!'
"Oh good, they're here!" Rory said, and jumped up. Lane quickly pressed play on the cd player and listened in satisfaction when some crappy artist filled the room. Then she and Rory went to the door.
"Dave!" Lane greeted enthusiastically, and pulled him inside. Paris stood uncomfortably on the front step.
"Come in Paris!" Rory said, and took her coat from her. "I didn't know you knew Dave?"
"Oh yeah," she replied abstractedly, "old friends, I and him. Known each other since birth or something ridiculously unlikely. Can I use your bathroom?"
"Oh, sure, right that way."
'Cockadoodledoo!'
"Tristan! You came!"
"Of course I did," Tristan said, admiring her extremely tight outfit. "Would you like to?"
"What?" asked Rory.
"Nothing. So am I going to stand out here all night?"
"Oh, of course not! Come on in. Dave is here, and for some reason so is Paris."
"Dave? Dave Rygowsky?"
"Tris, man!" Dave said, turning around to see 'Tris'.
"Long time no see buddy!" Tristan said, and pulled him into a tight bear hug.
"Where do you know each other from?" asked Lane, slightly nervous that she didn't want to know the answer.
"Oh, who knows?" answered Dave.
Just then, some gross song came on and the five (Paris had come out of the bathroom wearing a shirt that showed several inches of skin and a pink dog collar, so yes, before you start getting all math-y on me, there were five) started to get jiggy with it.
"It's getting hot in herre So take off all your clothes... I am getting so hot I'm gonna take my clothes off!"
[These verses where repeated for the duration of the song, with the males and females (respectively) taking turns with both parts. Fun was had by all, except the author who had to actually find the damn lyrics and realized that there are less than 25 words in the entire song.]
Rory giggled. "Oh, I'll be right back! Lane, Paris, come with me please!"
Lane and Paris obediently followed Rory into the kitchen.
"What is it Gilmore?" asked an extremely pissed Paris. [AN: Gotta love alliteration!]
"Umm...I actually can't remember." Rory answered, wrinkling her brow.
"Oh, don't worry about it!" Lane said, getting a bunch of beers from the fridge. "That happens in stories all the time. We have to go off together. It's like...the law!"
"Oh, okay!" Rory replied, feeling much better about herself.
Paris looked on in disbelief. "So this served absolutely no purpose?"
"Come Paris, lighten up!" Rory said, fluffing her hair. "This is supposed to be a party!"
"Since when?" asked Lane, and looked down at her open beer.
"Oh my gosh!" Rory the chaste said, and put all of the beer back in the fridge. "I don't know what came over us!"
Paris took off her collar. "I don't know either. Oh well, looks like we'll just need to have some old fashioned fun!"
"Okay, you two get back there. I think I need to change out of this tube top!" Rory said, and went into her room. Paris excused herself as well, and Lane had to face the boys alone.
---
What had transpired when the girls where in the kitchen:
...
Um, yeah.
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Rory pushed up her window. "Jess?"
"Hey," Jess said, emerging from the bushes.
"Do you want to come in?"
Jess pulled himself through the window. "Sure." He smirked when he saw Rory's pajamas folded on her bed.
"Stop that."
"Stop what?" asked Jess, taking Rory's hand and pulling her into the living room, where Tristan, Paris, Dave, Lane and now Jess and Rory (as promised) were sitting on the couch [mention #3918562462984], watching a movie. Rory snuggled down next to Tristan and Jess somehow found Paris in close proximity to his lap. No one was watching the movie.
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A few hours later, Rory looked up from Tristans oh-so-dreamy blue eyes. "Um guys..." asked Rory, startling the other two couples. "What month is it?"
"Suddenly get an urge to write a term paper?" asked Jess, sarcastically.
"It's May. Why?" asked Dave.
"Well, it's snowing."
Actually, Rory dear, it was more than snowing. It was...okay, it was snowing, but really really hard. It was a snow 'storm' [AN: Get the foreshadowing?] and the six were trapped.
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Meanwhile, Lorelai was trapped with Luke at the diner, as was usual when situations such as these came up. Since she was such a totally cool mother, she didn't really mind that Rory and five other teenagers were going to be doing teenager things in her house. Unsupervised teenage things in her house. Oh well, that's Lorelai for you.
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Everyone had just finished calling their parents/guardians to tell them that they would be trapped at Rory's house. Rory, being the generous host that she was, hauled out six sleeping bags (being the avid camper that she was, she obviously had six sleeping bags) and gave cute pajamas to the girls and big t-shirts to the guys. Unfortunatly, for toothbrushes they were on their own.
Once everyone had hunkered down, Rory between Tristan and Jess, Paris between Jess and Lane and Tristan next to Dave and Rory (just so you know), they watched another few movies, drank some sodas (or coffee, in Rory's case) and eventually fell asleep.
[Due to the rating of this story, the hanky-panky that took place in this story won't actually take place in this story. For all of you less than thirteen year olds out there who are actually reading.]
When the six woke up the next morning, Jess offered to make breakfast with the breakfast making material that had magically appeared in the Gilmore kitchen and there was some eating and some flirting and some giggling and some secret telling and then the six noticed that the snow had mysteriously melted and then they all said goodbye and hugged and kissed and wrote down phone numbers and exchanged friendship braceletes and once everyone had finally left Rory in her solitude, the readers were forced to realize that the author had finally run out of things to satirize/plagerize for the snowed-in/bad music chapter. But not for long.
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Whew! That was like seriously long! I hope it was enjoyable and slightly entertaining. Due to the amount of people saying that they want G reviews, I've decided to refuse to read anything that is less that PG. Just to warn you. So you'd all better look up "fornication" and use it in your reviews. And there had better be some reviews, because I'm going to fail my Biology midterm due to my lack of studying and lots of writing.
Please read the following:
The next chapter is not only going to be a satire in the actual chapter, but the 'authors notes' are going to be parodies of crappy 'authors notes'. Just so you don't think I've lost my mind.
For those of you who are unaware, the results of the first offical GG Fan Fic Awards are posted. Thanks to you, this story won best satire or something ridiculous like that. To check it out, and other good stories (because believe it or not, there actually are some!) here's the address. I hope posting it isn't against some law or something.
[www . after - tonight . net / fan fic / winners . html] (ignore the spaces!)
Coming soon...my acceptance speech!
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