AN: This (really late) chap's for StarWars-Freak, shine on you crazy diamond! :D
IDK, My BFF Adamantis?
Lambert's pouting could be felt from miles away as he entered his studio apartment, his eyebrows furrowed and his lower lip jutting out as he made his way to the sofa in a daze, gaze clearly not seeing anything but despair. There was a drawback to his carefully inept plan, which might lead to failure, and Lambert was never really the best at dealing with failure...
A few months ago...
"Lambert, please, stop!" Cried Tymmie in a voice with a very high octave as he dodged lamps, ceramics, mirrors, and some astonishingly heavy dining room tables that were being launched at him, "Anyone could have been defeated by a pretty boy and a seventeen year old girl who wears leopard skin pants-"
"LIES!! I AM INCONSOLABLE AND YOU SHALL PAY BY DODGING!" Bellowed a very distraught leader of Infidi as he continued to throw anything that wasn't nailed to the ground and some things that were.
"C'mon, Lambert, it's not that big of a deal-"
"DODGE!"
And all protests were rendered silent as a glass bowl filled with water, shiny blue pebble things, and a hopelessly doomed male beta fish connected with Tymmie's skull.
Back to the present...
"Whatever shall I do?" He mused out loud, cradling his head in his hands, "The love of my life besides my wife doesn't even know I exist!" He paused, then corrected himself, "Outside of my trying to destroy her and everyone she loves beyond all recognition...and even worse...she might have another stalker!"
Lambert sighed heavily, his head drooping down, "If only there was someone much more effective and intelligent than I who I could go to for advice..." He tapped a finger against his chin, "Yet, such a person would be nearly impossible to find, because, honestly who's more intelligent than me?" He winked and the silence in his apartment grew even more silenter.
"Who could I ask for love advice? Who is more depraved, hopeless, and impervious to romance than I? Hmm..."
And so, Lambert exercised that dusty old verb in the corner of his brain entitled 'thought'. And suddenly, it hit him like a lightning bolt that sent teens to their demise.
"I know just the person!"
oOo
Outlook not so good.
Lambert paled, and shook the plastic black ball in his hands with more force, "You're supposed to support me in everything that I do!"
Don't count on it.
He growled, "May I remind you who is the one in charge here?"
Better not tell you now.
"Augh! Must you always be so bloody difficult?!" Lambert continued to argue with the Magic 8 Ball.
It is decidedly so.
"Bitch," grumbled Lambert.
You may rely on it.
Now, to an outside source, the conversation taking place may appear to be between a grown, slightly insane man and a cheap, outdated childrens' toy. However, an outsider would be sorely mistaken as the conversation was actually between a grown, slightly insane man and a cheap, outdated woman. How can this be, one might ask. Well, the answer is simple: due to a slight mixup at a Mattel toy factory, the potion used for Aura's soul transfer was accidentally inserted into a Magic 8 Ball instead of the really hot factory girl. Now, Lambert's one and only- besides the others- was limited for perhaps eternity to 20 generic responses. The lack of communication between the two had actually done wonders for their marriage.
He started rolling the ball again, but the triangular die kept landing on the edges, making it impossible to read the sides, "Oh, the silent treatment, eh? Way to be mature Ursula!" He tried to shake her into cooperation, but yet again it fell on the crease.
"You are absolutely no help at all!" Growled Lambert, tossing the Magic 8 Ball across the room where it collided with a banana plant that he had bought to spruce up the room. "I need a gentle, caring and considerate source to give me advice...but who? Who?" He tapped a finger across his lower lip, and after a moment.
"I've got it! My BFF Adamantis!"
oOo
"And then, I said to them, of course that's not a revivalist painting, it's an Escher!" Came the suave, sophisticated voice of one dashingly debonair Follower as he swirled the crystal goblet full of terrifically expensive red wine.
"Do ho ho," chortled the rest of the distinguished gentlemen that sat beside him in front of the fireplace, all of them smoking pipes or cigars, wearing red velvet bathrobes, and being all together pompous, classy, and holding egos the sizes of territorial provinces.
"Oh, Adamantis, you are too clever!" Came a fat Regulator, who's sole eye held a monocle in front of it.
"Truly, Mortimer is correct, your wit is as fathomless as an ocean." Came another.
"Oh come now," Adamantis said modestly, taking a sip of his very tasteful vintage, "We already knew that."
"Do ho ho!" The crowd chortled yet again.
"Adamantis, please, tell us about the time you charmed the Priestess of Serbia," requested a beautiful buxom blonde, who looked eerily similar to a former 1950s starlet...
"Ah, yes, well I was in between reading Kant and Ayn Rand when-" Adamantis's tale of bloated self importance was interupted when he ringtone was set off.
I was going to go to class, but then I got high
I could have cheated, and I could've passed
But I was hi-iiiigh
I'm taking it next semester, and I know why
Because I was high, because-
Adamantis grit his mother of pearl teeth as he remembered his insolent spawn fooling around on his phone during her bi monthly visit. "Speak, for this is Adamantis."
"Hey, it's me-"
Adamantis paled. Great. It was that guy.
"-and I really, really have a problem!"
"I don't care. I'm entertaining guests, leave me alone."
"But we're besties!"
"I don't recall entering into that arrangement."
"But it's really, really important! I'm in love!"
Adamantis scowled, "You're in love? How guache."
"Don't you use that pompous tone of voice with your BFF!"
The grade-A Follower groaned, "Well, what do you want me to do about it then?"
The grade-C Follower exhaled, "It's disgusting and crude and I absolutely can't kill it off with lightning like I do with my usual problems. I'm attracted to a Daughter of the Moon."
"Ugh, Forbidden Love? Really, Lambert, even you aren't that cliche."
"I know, it's tooth dissolvingly sweet and I must destroy it."
"It's as if you're stealing Stanton's routine or something."
Silence.
Adamantis rose a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, "Hello?"
"That was cold."
He exhaled, "I'm sorry. Stanton is pathetic and you are superior in all ways."
Lambert beamed on the other end of the phone, before remembering himself and his evil disposition, "I think this may require hands-on experience-"
"For Hades's sake, Lambert, she's still a minor-"
"Not in that way! It's just...you've always had a way with pure, impressionable jailbait and I figured this one should be dealt with The Professional." Lambert smirked, knowing that filling that hot air balloon of a head with more compliments would soon get Adamantis to bend to his will like soft, impressionable-
"No."
-what?!
"What?! Why not!" Lambert demanded.
"I don't feel like it, plus, Reginald and I were going to sail our yachts this evening."
"You can sail your yachts anytime! You can only see me make an ass of myself once!"
A suspicious silence on Adamantis's end.
Lambert frowned, "This is where you jump at this rare opportunity."
Adamantis coughed into his hand, "Of course. Rare. You making a complete fool of yourself is never, ever going to happen besides this moment."
"Are you being sarcastic with me?!"
"Of course not. I would never do that. Ever."
Lambert breathed a sigh of relief, "Well, good. So, you in?"
Adamantis stared at his manicured fingernails, "I suppose. I do like to associate with the commonwealth every once in a while, for posterity's sake."
"Wonderful, I think we need to start with the child who has a tight butt named Collin-"
Adamantis rolled his eyes as Lambert continued to prattle on, making a yakking motion with his free hand to the other members of his snooty club.
"Do ho ho!" They all laughed at Adamantis's ironclad patience.
"Fine, fine. Enough of your incessant chatter. I'll have one of my numerous servants that are a product of my great power and wealth take me by private helicopter to the roof of the art museum, and we shall meet there."
"And, I'll uh, have Tymmie call me a cab or something." Lambert said, shifting weight from foot to foot.
"I dread my arrival," Adamantis said, snapping the phone shut before turning, "My condolences, Reginald, looks like we'll have to ride the yachts next weekend."
A rather grotesque looking Regulator with a handle bar mustache lowered his head sadly.
oOo
Not a whole lot of romance in this chapter, but the next one, oh the next one...