Authors Note:
Oh, I've been gone too long. I thought I'd given up on DOTM, but then I pulled out the first page of the rough draft I had started for this chapter that I'd written way back in February and decided to continue. I also must continue "Stanton" and I want to finish "14 Going on 25", but it seems like the hardest to complete. For everyone, if any, who reads this, thanks for being patient.
Also, keep in mind that I have just gotten out of an almost year long writers block. My writing has suffered from it and even though some of the things you read may be excruciatingly painful, I AM trying to recover and be as good as I was before if not better.
A cloaked, hooded figure walked into the Atrox's office and eyed the piles of endless paperwork on it's desk. The Atrox was cursing as usual and throwing office supplies at the walls. He flinched as a stapler barely missed his head. The Atrox was in no mood to do paperwork, let alone be reckoned with. But he would get what he wanted. He always got what he wanted.
Most of the time.
Occasionally.
Okay, never...
But this time he was gonna!
"Can I help you?" the Atrox growled.
The hooded figure nodded. "I want to try out".
The Atrox gave him a strange look. "Try out?"
"You know. For the team".
"What team?"
"Your team! The evil team! The followers?"
The Atrox leaned back and stroked the spot where his chin should have been in consideration.
"Can you do a back flip?"
The hooded figure did an exceptional back flip.
"Can you throw?"
He took the Atrox's eraser and tossed it straight through the hole in his pencil sharpener.
"Can you sing?"
He did a perfect enactment of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody, complete with choreography, more back flips, and batons.
"Amazing! Simply amazing!" The Atrox applauded wildy before retreating back to his paperwork. "But unfortunately, I already have enough trouble with the idiots that I did hire... Go try Wal-mart. Or that Voldemort guy..."
"But, My Lord", the figure bowed as a wry smile slipped over his unseen lips. "I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice".
The Atrox laughed. "Do you mean to challenge me? I'm the Atrox!"
His smile widened as he pulled out a sheet of green paper. "Affirmative Action".
The Atrox, having no knowledge of the American law, blinked dumbly. "Wha?"
"Affirmative Action. I'm a minority. You have to let me in".
The Atrox's eyes narrowed. "Prove it".
He took a feather from his pocket and plopped it on the top of his hood. A thick silence spread through out the room and he started to worry. If his Native American disguise didn't work, there was always the sombrero and Afro in his cloak.
"Fine", The Atrox finally mumbled, not really giving a damn anymore. "You're in".
"WOOT!" The hooded man roared and did a few back flips across the office.
The Atrox held up a big, black jacket that read in big, fiery letters: ATROX: THE OFFICIAL SWEATSHIRT. Made in China. "Here. Now you'll go downstairs to the prison quarters which you'll be guarding until further notice. Is that clear?"
"Crystal".
The Atrox pulled out a name tag and handed it to the man along with a purple gel pen. He bent down to scribble the perfect pseudonym onto the paper. No one would ever catch him with this disguise: Lam Bert.
"Lam?" The Atrox furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously and Lambert bit his bottom lip.
"That doesn't sound like an Indian name to me".
"It's a lost tribe", Lambert explained smugly before departing the room, determined to find the object of his demise A.K.A Stanton.
"Hello, ladies", Lambert waved at the prisoners with his night stick. He recognized them both immediately. Aura had possessed the darker haired girl in order to deceive Stanton and he'd fought with the blonde in battle. If he talked to them long enough, he might be able to determine the whereabouts of Stanton.
"Who're you?" Serena asked.
"Mr. Bert", he grinned. "I'll be your prison guard for the day".
The girls simply blinked at him and continued with whatever conversation they had been indulged in before he came in. Meanwhile, Lambert posed in a nearby hall mirror.
Does this shirt make me look fat?
Perhaps if he hadn't pulled it over his cloak...
"... it's crazy. All Stanton talks about now is sex".
Lambert's curiosity sparked up. "Did you say the S- word?"
Serena raised an eyebrow. "Shit?"
"No."
"Sex?"
"No!"
"Stanton?"
"That's the one".
She crossed her arms, suspicion crossing her face. "What do you want with Stanton?"
Lambert let out a demented cackle. "What do I want with Stanton?" He rubbed his palms together and licked his lips. "What do I want with Stanton?"
He stopped to see looks of disgust on both their faces.
"N-no! Atrox, no! I didn't mean it like that! I meant it in a murderous, "I want your blood" sort of way. You know?"
They continued to stare at him.
"I... I'm gonna go now".
"Dammit! Dammit-Dammit-Dammit! DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!" Lambert kicked an unsuspecting rock across the hall.
"Ow!"
"Sorry, Zoe", he muttered. Stupid fallen daughters getting in the way of his rock...
"Lambert?" Zoe massaged at dark her tresses before pulling at his hood.
"Hey!" He backed away. "YOU WANNA GET ME KILLED?"
"Sorry... aren't you supposed to be dead?"
"Aren't you?"
"Yes, but when I found out what happened to Catty I just had to convince Selene to let me come back. She pulled out a flyer that read "FREE CATTY". "Her father is holding her captive!"
"I don't..."
"But every time I try to help her, he has me blasted on sight".
"... really care".
"So I've decided to go see Stanton about it".
"Look, woman. I asked why you weren't dead. Not for your entire life stor- STANTON, YOU SAY?"
"Y- yes".
"You know where he lives?"
She nodded.
"You must take me there!"
"O-okay..."
Maniacal laughter echoed from the bushes where Lambert was hiding. "Soon, Stanton. Sooooon".
Living in the sunlight
Loving in the moonlight
Having a wonderful time
Someone's voice echoed from across the garden.
Just take it from me
I'm just as free as any daughteeer
Lambert cocked an eyebrow. Why did that high falsetto voice seem strangely familiar?
I do what I like
Just what I like
And how I Lo-OVE it
"TYMMIE!"
"IIIIEE!" the boy screeched in his normal tone.
"YOU TRAITOR!" He took in the boy's french maid outfit. "WHY ARE YOU WATERING STANTON'S FLOWERS?"
"He... he made me do it! I swear!" Tymmie dropped the water kettle. His eyes watered as he closed in for a hug. "I thought you were dead!"
"Don't touch me", Lambert growled. He glanced up at Stanton's windows. "What could be taking Zoe so long?"
Tymmie shrugged. "Wanna play a game?"
"No".
"Wanna play IT?"
"No".
"Red Rover?"
"No."
"Doctor?"
"..."
He let out a sigh of relief as the marble double doors opened and Zoe walked out. "Thank you so much, Stanton!"
Stanton waved from the balcony before walking back into the castle.
Lambert bounced like a five year old on Christmas. "Now's my chance! I finally get to kill Stanton!"
"What was that?" Tymmie blinked.
"Nothing". He crept up to the door, a black book in his hand, and rang the doorbell.
A few footsteps clumped over the hall and an annoyed Stanton opened the door.
"Yes?"
"Stantonnnn!" Lambert hissed, unable to keep the maniacal spark from his eyes. "I mean! Have you given your soul to the devil yet?"
Stanton rolled his eyes. "I'm busy". His grip tightened on the door knob. "Come back another day".
"Not so fast!" Lambert jammed his foot in the doorway before Stanton could close it. "With Satan you can live again!" He held up the book.
Stanton growled. "I'm living just fine!"
"Now we both know that isn't true".
"Damn Lucifer Witnesses... go bother someone ELSE!" he threatened, slamming Lambert's leg in the door on the last note.
"AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!" he moaned in agony. "Stanton wait!" He knew he should have went for the girl scout guise... Who could resist cookies? "Stanton please! It's me! Your long lost... best friend!"
Astill silencefell over them accompanied by the sound of Tymmie humming a gay little tune in the garden. The door slowly opened to reveal a bewildered Stanton. The princedropped to one knee before taking one of Lambert's hands.
"St- Steve?"
Lambert swallowed hard. He had no idea who Steve was. "Y- yup! That's me!"
Stanton's eyes began to water. "I... I never thought I'd see you again. I missed you so much!"
"Yup..." Lambert squeaked before being wrapped into a huge bear hug. "GYAH!"
"Why didn't you write me? Or call me? Haven't you ever heard of EMAIL? GAWD! If I'd known you were alive, I'd... wait".
Lambert put on a wide grin. "Yup?"
"How could you be alive? You're mortal. You would have died centuries ago".
"Yup".
Stanton stared at him.
Okay. That wasn't working anymore. "Um... that guy turned me. You know that guy".
"What guy?"
"That... one guy. The tall... guy".
Stanton raised an eyebrow.
"You probably don't know him... He was a hobo. Much too low for your standards!"
"Oh!" Stanton grinned. "I know who you mean. Ugly? In serious need of lotion?"
"Uh, sure." Why not?
"Lambert!"
Lambert clenched his teeth. "No... I remember Lambert being a much more handsome fellow-"
"No way!" Stanton patted him on the back. "I think your memory needs a jolt, Steve. Lambert was one ugly son of a bitch".
Lambert started to see red.
"And I mean that literally"
"Grrr..." He bit down hard on his lip. Must. Not. Blow. Cover.
"Don't even get me started on his mother..."
Too late. "YOU'RE NOT HALF THE FOLLOWER I EVER WAS!"
Stanton's eyes widened. "Whoa, Steve! Cool it, man".
Lambert huffed and puffed as Stanton guided him into his home, still chuckling at his own pathetic jokes. He smirked, letting his thoughts calm him. He'd murder that idiot and over throw his entire kingdom.
Then they'd see who had the last laugh...