Disclaimer: Twilight no es mio.
A/N: I loVE aLL of youz insANe beAutiES. yer the BEST. & writing this story is the most fun eveh.
Some mongoose in a suit gave Jacob a pen with ink. This is the result.
Entry 6:
Hey diddle diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon;
The little dog laughed to see such sport,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.
This was what I sang to myself as I lay in dirt, paws up, snout up.
Okay, if I'm honest, it was more like:
Ruff! oowl! bowl!
Gr-ruff-ow-oowl!
Bark-ruff. Hoooo-wooool!
Ruff-roof-ruff-arrrr-arrrr-ruff!
Bark-ruff. Hoooo-ruff-woo-wooool!
So, really, it was totally unintelligible to any human.
But that wasn't the point.
The point was to annoy the hell out of the sacred wolf brigade whose collective thoughts were pounding in all parts of my head:
SHUT-YOUR-MUZZLE-THE-FUCKING HELL UP, JACOB!!!! Paul.
Wow. Jake. Your internal singing voice is even more off pitch than your external one. Embry.
Why is there a spoon? I never understood that... Quil.
Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star... Jarred (humming to himself).
I tuned them out. It was me, the moon, my bad, off-key voice, and the sweet and strong one-gallon pot of Sue's coffee.
I wasn't all that sure that wolves were supposed to drink coffee, to be honest. (I was peeing an awful lot.) And the effect it was having on me was... I don't know? Rather bizarre?
Like, how is one supposed to mentally construct this scene? I mean I'm a monster-sized wolf growling out nursery rhymes, while howling at the moon and lapping coffee until I was nothing more than a shaky mess on the grass.
...
Huh. Like I was sloshed?
Oh. Oh, well?
OH WELL?! DRINKING ON THE JOB IS NOT PERMITTED. The bloodsuckers will eat you! Get off your ass. Paul.
Yeah, come on, Jake. Jarred.
Can I get a swig, too? Tired... Quil.
You've never EVEN been drunk—so how would you know? Embry (wishing he was smoking a cigarette).
I sighed and stood to run.
Protecting girls who did not want to be protected was so barely worth this.
. . . .. . . . .. . . ............... .. . .... .. .. .. . . . .. .. . . .
Bella's e-Diary:
I "met" with Leah today. I say "met," but it was more like a parent-arranged intervention, where they were all like "Lets put our two jilted daughters together and see if their Bell Jar worldviews can kindle feelings of the sisterhood!" Sad. Sorta like juvenile detention centers. (What a great idea: surround bad kids with even worse kids.)
Leah brought a lot of cookies and then some of Harry's fish fry for Charlie. (She said Sue was trying to get anything with the word "fry" in it out of their house, because of Harry's dysfunctional heart valves.) We didn't really say anything at first, mostly because Leah hates me—which to be honest, I was enjoying.
"Hi, Leah."
"Fuck off, Bella."
Then, again, it might be the case that Leah hated everyone.
I decided to be hospitable. "Would you like something to drink? Tea?"
"Eat a fucking cookie."
"Okay."
Silence...
"O+?" I offered dryly.
"That's nastier than fucking diarrhea, just so you know."
Shrug. "I turn invisible. I like that. It means that I'm not powerless."
"Disappearing doesn't make it better."
"On the contrary, it makes it much better. No one's giving you 'pity eyes.'"
"I still don't think it makes it better."
"Oh, it's because he's with her now."
Silence.
"She's nice."
"She's my cousin. I can't completely hate her."
"It's okay if you do."
"Go and fucking vamoose yourself."
"I'd have to slurp down a baggie for that, and I don't mix blood and cookies."
"Ah, yes..." Leah nodded derisively. "That would be uncivilized."
I smiled. "I like you, Leah."
"I fucking hate you."
"These are really good cookies."
"You're welcome."
"So, what do you think I should do about the crazy vampires in the area?"
"Hope they murder Sam."
"Good plan."
"The best."
**************************************************
PHONE LOG:
907-340-5298 calls 907-340-5280. No Answer.
907-340-5298 calls 907-340-5280. No Answer.
907-340-5298 calls 907-340-5280. No Answer.
.
Alice (907-340-5298):
ANSWER YOUR PHONE, EDWARD.
.
907-340-5298 calls 907-340-5280. No Answer.
907-340-5298 calls 907-340-5280. No Answer.
.
Alice (907-340-5298):
OR FINE. JUST TEXT ME BACK.
Edward (907-340-5280):
Leave a broken man to his broken heart.
nn^nn
Alice (907-340-5298):
It's about Bella.
Edward (907-340-5280):
Why is it about Bella? You're supposed to be LEAVING HER ALONE.
Alice (907-340-5298):
I've been corresponding with Charlie.
Edward (907-340-5280):
*GROWL*
Alice (907-340-5298):
Ooh. Impressive. I *SNARL* back at you.
Edward (907-340-5280):
I concede that texting a growl is not impressive;
however, know this:
when we meet again, I will be wearing bell-bottoms
and
AND
they might just be orange.
Not that you should ever expect to see me again.
Alice (907-340-5298):
Your future has suddenly disappeared.
YOU KNOW WhY?
Edward (907-340-5280):
Enlighten me.
Alice (907-340-5298):
Actually, I don't know why.
Edward (907-340-5280):
Because you're going to kill me if I wear clementine-colored bell bottoms?
And because I'm a...
gloomy, glum, heartsick, heavyhearted,
down in the dumps, melancholic,
morose, mournful, out of sorts,
troubled, woebegone vampire
who pushed away the love of his life
and IS NOT HANDLING IT WELL?!!?
Alice (907-340-5298):
No. Can I call you back?
Edward (907-340-5280):
Very funny.
Edward (907-340-5280):
Alice?
Edward (907-340-5280):
Where'd you go?
.
907-340-5280 calls 907-340-5298. No Answer.
.
Edward (907-340-5280) text to (907-340-5260):
Can you go attend your wife?
Jasper (907-340-5260):
???
Headin' back to the ranch...
Jasper (907-340-5260):
E, what'd you do to my wife?
Edward (907-340-5280):
Nothing.
Jasper (907-340-5260):
She's twitching!
WHAT DID YOU DO?
Vampires don't TWITCH.
Edward (907-340-5280):
Insulted her hegemonic fashion tendencies?
Out-adjectived her?
Made animal-noise interjections?
Jasper (907-340-5260):
WTF
Wait. She's freaked.
Text you back in a minute.
Jasper (907-340-5260):
Huh. There smtg screwin up yer future.
Edward (907-340-5280):
And what would that be?
Jasper (907-340-5260):
Bella.
Edward (907-340-5280):
LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS.
You tried to EAT her.
You are NOT allowed to talk about her.
Jasper (907-340-5260):
As long as Alice twitches,
I will stand my ground.
Smtg is up with Bella—that's WHY Alice is twitching.
Edward (907-340-5280):
What's wrong with BELLA?
Jasper (907-340-5260):
You ever track down that red-head?
Edward (907-340-5280):
Not really...?
Jasper (907-340-5260):
Well, that'd be your problem.
Edward (907-340-5280):
She wouldn't...
But...
Shit.
Tell Alice to text me if there are any updates.
Jasper (907-340-5260):
Will do.
Meet you in Forks?
Edward (907-340-5280):
...
Yes.