Ahem. Okay. So I haven't written a chapter in ages. I know. Shoot me. In the foot. Please. I've been really busy wit- Ok, that's a lie. I've been Lay-Z. Ha ha, like Jay-Z only not. I'm a Feminem. Haha like female, Only Eminem. Okay, anyway, this chapter was dedicated to the person who made Passionfruit Tic Tacs. They taste horrible, spicy and disgusting. They make Rose feel like she's going to die. But God Damn it, what would we do without them?
Imagine the scene now...
Advisor: (Preferrably in a southern accent) SIR! HORRIBLE NEWS! OHMAFUK WE'VE RUN OUT OF PASSIONFRUIT TICS TACS.
President of America: You.. You mean, even in the vault?
Advisor: Escpecially in the vault!
President: Oh My God! FIRE THE MISSILES!
Advisor: (stares) But, sir that won't really help anythin-
President: God damn it, I SAID FIRE THE MISSILES, Syd. And while your at it, get me on the phone to Russia. We're declaring war.
Advisor: But, Sir- This would PROBABLY event in Nuclear War, meaning everyone would die-
Presidont: Shut THE FUCK UP! NO PASSIONFRUIT TIC TACS, NO WORLD.
(Everything explodes)
... So that's why I love Passionfruit Tic Tacs.
Enough Foreplay.
Here's the chapter.
-&-
"No, we're not shagging," I responded, rolling my eyes, "As if I'd let James deflower me."
James gave me a mixtured sad/startled look.
"Don't give me the puppy eyes, we're not shagging you oddly-shaped foot."
"As if he'd let you touch him. Phht."
Obnoxious voice.
...Horse-like features.
...Horrible, googly eyes.
"HORSEFACE!" I cried happily, throwing my arms around her.
"Ew, get off, ugly loser," crowed my sister, Petunia.
Oh, she's just playing.
We always joke around like that.
"Afraid I might poison you, you kidney-size guitar string?" I asked cheerfully.
"I wouldn't put anything past you. Who's your ugly gay shit sweater-vested friend?" she sneered in James' general direction.
"This is my boyfriend, James Harold Franseco Potter."
I know.
Funny name.
It's ok, you can say 'LOL'.
I may even have a giggle myself.
"Freak, what are you laughing at?" Horsefac- Petunia snapped.
"James' Middle Name," I said, still chortling.
"Yes, it is quite humourous," Petunia said.
And then the weirdest thing happened.
Quite creeped out, I watched in a sort of awe as the end of Petunia's lips began to…
Rise.
Was she…
No, she couldn't be…
"What the HELL are you doing?" asked Vernon, a look of horror fresh on his face.
The moment was ruined.
Damn almost smile.
Damn Vernon.
Damn Petunia Horsey-Faced Face Face Face.
"Nothing," Horse Face said, frowning at me.
"Okay then," I said.
"It is indeed, okay."
"Don't try to upstage my saying with an indeed, you star spangled hootenanny."
"Lily, the long, eloquent nasty names are getting really old," Horse Face said, grabbing Vernon's wrist and spinning out of the room.
To go make out.
Ew.
Ew.
Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
"Yeah, well one word isn't enough to describe your despicableness!" I yelled after them.
Turning to James, I asked unsurely, "Your family's not this weird, are they?"
James shook his head vigorously, "They're worse."
I glared at him, "No, no they're not. Unless you have a gay step-uncle who's shacked up with your recently divorced father, a hemophiliac dare devil brother, and a vegan mother, I win."
James raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
I should of listened, damn it.
-&-
James' mother had hair like a 60s Housewife.
You know that terrible, flippy hairdo?
That most people hate?
Yeah, she's got hair like that.
When she first saw me her face wrinkled a bit.
It was really gross.
She was wearing an apron, complete with pink frills.
It was really gross.
She made a squealy noise when she saw James, "Oh, Jamsey, dear! You look so... Handsome. And rugged! And manly!"
I don't know why, but I got the distinct impression she was lying.
I mean, yes, James is slightly... I mean, to a certain extent... Ok, he's hot.
And, yes, I did call him 'yummy' last year.
But I mean...
Um...
Hearing it from his mum?
It was really gross.
And then she turned to me, "Oh! And look at your adorable little girlfriend!" she waved at me like I was retarded, "Hi there, Lily Evans."
I stared back vacantly, "Um... Hello?"
"She's a gem," James' mum said, letting us into their house.
James' father was sitting there, in a stuffed arm chair.
Smoking a pipe.
A pipe.
A PIPE!
I know, I know.
And if that wasn't bad enough, he was wearing a cream knit-sweater vest.
...With loafers.
If Dad saw this, he'd probably go insane.
My parents, and James' parents, can never, ever meet.
Ever.
"UP-BUP-BUP!" James' mother squealed as I started walking into the living room.
She stared at me expectantly.
What does she want from me?
What the Hell does 'Up-Bup-Bup' mean?
I looked to James for help.
He started back, also expectant.
"Um... Thank you.. For... Welcoming me into your lovely home?" I asked awkwardly.
James' mother eyebrows shot up, and she exchanged glances with an equally scandalized James.
What douchebags.
WHAT DID I DO WRONG?
"Lily," James voice was strangled, "Your shoes."
I looked down at them.
They were converses.
Um...
So?
It's not like they have Ku Klux Klan remarks written all over them.
"Yes?" I asked, bewildered.
"They're on."
I stared at him.
My boyfriend insane.
Or an extreme stater of the obvious.
"Um, I believe they are."
James sighed, gesticulating to the floor, "Take them off, Lily."
Oh...
That's all they wanted me to do?
How the Hell was I supposed to know that "Up-Bup-Bup" meant 'Lily, take off your shoes'!
I slid them off.
"Thank you, dear," said James' mother warmly, "We keep our shoes off because white, white, white is the colour of our carpet. And we'd like it to stay that way."
She sang the white carpet bit.
She sings like a strangled, neutered lemur.
And by that I mean...
Not good.
I felt really out of place.
I gulped nervously.
"Um, I like your..."
Crap crap crap.
I have no conversation starting skills.
Shit.
What the hell should I say?
All three Potters looked at me expectantly.
"I like your... Doilys?" I said, my voice becoming strangled.
They stared at me.
There was so much staring happening today.
It was like being in a room with fifty uptight dolphins.
Because, you know, Dolphins never close their eyes.
Not even to sleep.
... Or so I've heard.
It was a reliable source, though.
I don't just trust anyone these days.
Silence filled the room.
"So... Did you know that dolphins never... Blink?"
Oh.
My.
God.
I'm so dissapointed.
In myself.
My hand is twitching to slap myself.
Must...
Not...
Slap...
Self...
In...
Front...
Of...
Uptight...
Mother...
James looked at me grimly.
'Shut up, you tic-tac festooned fromage,' I said in thought waves.
Fromage is French for le cheese.
This was going to be a long Sunday Brunch.
And I wasn't even drunk yet.
-&-
Warning: I was high when I wrote this chapter. Like, seriously high. Like, Siriusly High. Ha ha, it's like serious, only Sirius Black, the character from the popular children's series, Harry Potter. This may be a less funny chapter when I come off this high, but for now, it's knee-cracklingly, tooth-bashingly, spit on your neck and gouge out your eyes hilarious. Wow. I really am high. I'll take down this chapter if I, after my high, find it excessive in the gay and stupid and faggish criteria.
Ok, well, I haven't responded to anyone's reviews because I want to get this up ASAP! I'll be responding to everyone's reviews next chappie. It'll be cool, because I'll be all, "Hey, this person's reviewed TWICE."
My Little brother is exhibiting signs of becoming more and more like me everyday. I just caught him playing "Bionicles", which is normal, as one was standing over the other with a gun. BUT THEN, the dominant Bionicle cried out, "THAT'S RIGHT, YOU'RE A CHIMPMUNK!" Now my little brother's upset because I like collapsed into a fit of giggles and he has no idea what about.
Oh, by the way, I cut up one of my friends pictures by "accident" one day, so I was all, "Um... I'll say people should go to your... Story on Fanfiction?" And she was all, "Yeah, you better." So, Go to Eveleen's story about a girl called "Eve". Um it's called the Marauders and Me surfie-aussie-chick.
Um...
...Yeah
Toddle-OooooOooooOooooOOooooOoooooOoooooOooooOoo,
My styled, perplexingly shaped green balloon,
Trapped Rabbit