Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show

A/N:A/N: Thanks for reviewing, FireandBloodandKittens!

The manipulative antihero (Claudia) is looking like a Mary Sue. Sorry, I'll try to fix that. Hopefully everyone's in character, especially the aliens. Columbia is so much easier to write!

That evening Claudia ended up meeting the last two members of the household.

Soon before dinner – while dusting the foyer – she ran into a very thin girl with short pink hair and no eyebrows. Well, technically she had eyebrows… but they were drawn on. This was rather startling. As was her glittery sense of fashion, especially that top hat she wore. It nearly gave Claudia a headache.

"Hello! My name is Columbia," the girl said.

Her voice was accented somewhat. Claudia decided it sounded like a foreign exchange student she'd gone to school with once. Though this 'Columbia' had a squeakier voice than the Australian Claudia went to school with. Then again, that student was a guy.

"What's your job here?" Claudia asked, making her voice slightly high pitched in the hope of sounding childlike.

"Frankie's Groupie."

Claudia knew what a groupie was. Well, she thought she did. To her it was a screaming, slobbering Beatles fangirl. She didn't know that the word had any sexual connotations. The poor girl was far more innocent than she thought!

"What're you doing here?" Columbia asked.

"They hired me so that they could have more freetime. I've got to do much of her cleaning now, Miss. In exchange I get food and a place to sleep."

"That's nice," Columbia said, patting the girl on the head.

To Columbia, this new addition to the household was like a pet. Someone even lowlier than the groupie. Like a little scullery maid, as seen in old-fashioned stories, whose existence makes other servants feel good about themselves. Though Columbia planned to treat this girl like a pet. She'd be something to look after. Columbia liked the idea, especially since it made her feel normal. If Columbia hadn't been living where she was... well, at 23 she would've been married and everything. After just meeting this innocent child (well, young woman who appeared to be an innocent child) Columbia was already plotting out all sorts of things...

"Do you cook, too?" Columbia asked.

"If you tell me how."

Columbia giggled. "What a funny kid you are! What do you do when you aren't cooking and cleaning for aliens?"

"Not much," Claudia replied quietly.

Any more questions would surely result in too many secrets spilled. Such as her age, perhaps, and how she'd ended up at the castle. So Claudia slowly wandered off just then, leaving Columbia rather confused. There wasn't really anything left to dust at that point. Anyway, things looked more theatrical this way. It looked much more 'Addams Family-like.

After leaving the foyer she went to the kitchen again. There was already something being cooked, so she found her way there by the smell.

Magenta stood by the stove, stirring some sort of stew. It smelled good. Though Claudia couldn't help but worry about what was in it. Aliens often had unusual tastes – in movies, at least.

Only moments after Claudia entered the kitchen, Magenta noticed her.

"Hello, again. I don't trust you with this soup or anything too important. Though I vill have you make biscuits."

And so, Claudia made biscuits. They were lopsided and burned and tasted rather unpleasant. Though Magenta didn't seem to mind. As usual she was weirdly cheerful, which wasn't a good thing. It was creepy somehow.

"You'll learn, I'm sure," Magenta said, with a sigh. "Though for now I'll still bring them to dinner. We haven't time to cook anything else, and they can't be that bad!"

Claudia nodded. At least she hadn't been scolded, which she sort of deserved.

So... everything was carried to the dining room. That meant the soup, the biscuits, and something sort of alien that was probably a vegetable. Indeed, it was a sort of squash native to Transsexual Transylvania. No Earth-squash was naturally that radioactive-blue color.

After setting the food down on the table the servants (including Claudia) sat down. The Master, Columbia, and a random '50s greaser were already seated. Claudia hadn't yet met the greaser – Eddie – so she was somewhat surprised by his presence. Columbia noticed her staring.

"This is Eddie, sweetie," the groupie explained.

Then, without further conversation, they began to eat. It seemed that nobody liked talking at dinner. Riff spent most of the time glaring at everyone else – especially the Master – and not eating much. Eddie seemed sort of out of it, as if he wasn't sober or had hit his head. Columbia stared at her plate and looked sort of nervous (she didn't like not being able to talk). Magenta just smiled weirdly at everyone, as seemed her custom. The Master had apparently forgotten everyone else existed.

Then, he tried eating one of the biscuits. As one might expect, he was even less pleased than an unhappy-looking picture of Queen Victoria...

Before the shouting could start, Claudia left the table. She was already uncomfortable being around the Master anyway. If he were angry with her things would only be worse. What a coward she was! Somebody with a sense of dignity would be able, though not Claudia. The girl who hides and lies to get her way. That is far from honorable.

Like her namesake, the emperor Claudius, she pretended to be far more harmless than she was. Acting as a fool made things simpler. If nobody takes you seriously than they'll ignore you. Giving you simple tasks – work fit for a half-wit – or perhaps even nothing. When you're ignored or dismissed as a fool then you've got a much easier life. Though that's quite dishonest. Claudia thought it was fine since she was doing it for a noble cause – to help her write a book. Though is that even a noble cause?

After returning to her room – quite quickly, mind you – she found that picture again. The regal looking lady, Quintina Patricia Augusta, stared back at her through the glass. It was strangely comforting, that picture. As if it were the only sane person – besides Claudia – in this odd house.

Though there were other sane people. Claudia really was a fool, thinking that she was the only person faking her oddness. But who? Who was more competent than they looked?

The dull Igor? The cheerful maid with her head in the clouds? The crazy crossdresser? The groupie dreaming of a normal life? The stoned greaser?

You'll see later, dear reader.

The next day, Claudia awoke to find she'd worn the previous day's clothes to bed (again)… and that somebody had brought her some new clothes to wear. They sat in a pile on the dresser. She began to sort through them and found that many were nicer than what she'd brought with her.

Whoever it was, they were being sweet. Claudia made a mental note to ask everyone about it… then forgot about said 'note' for no reason.

Since nobody had come to wake her up – and the clock claimed that it was only 5AM – Claudia decided to write in her diary before getting dressed. Well, it wasn't really a diary. More like a book of story ideas. And poetry, sometimes. It was where she stored all the ideas she picked up. Here's what she wrote:

"Master" of the house wears woman's clothing. Also a bit of a creep, hits on me. 'Reads' antique porn. Magenta the domestic bosses me around, good at cooking. Looks like a witch. Also, a bit loony and (?) on drugs. Riff Raff looks sorta sickly/sallow, doesn't eat much. Eddie is a stoned-seeming greaser-delinquent. Columbia is a super-hyper groupie who thinks I'm cute. They live in a castle that belongs in Styria or Transylvania or Scotland. The Master hates me now, because I burned part of dinner. Last night we also had some radioactive-looking squash.

Then, as something of an after thought, she added:

RIRELBAR FRRZF FGHCVQ BE PENML. FBEGN SERNXL. QVGML ORAGYRF SNATVEY AVPE. V ZHFG SVTHER BHG JUB ERYNGRQ JUB/UBJ.

Smiling brightly to herself she then closed the book and got out of bed. She then donned some of her new clothes. That included a pretty dress that looked rather 1950s – vintage was stylish at the time – and a silk scarf. With that she wore a pair of her old stockings.

For a while she sat in her room. There, she read a bit of one of her favorite books (Great Expectations). Then she began mentally comparing characters to people she'd recently met. Frank could be a foil to Miss Havisham, for one thing. They were both eccentric, rich weirdos. Yet Frank was eccentric at least in part because of his overly-dirty mind and tendency to flirt with people. Miss Havisham feared such things, sort of. She never married since she'd been left at the altar. Given the time period she hadn't even done anything. Then there was the fact that he was very keen on fashion and she'd constantly worn the same dress for years out of sorrow…

After pondering all that for a while, Claudia went downstairs to the kitchen.

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Note to specific person who might be reading this: So, a few friends of mine were at a photo-taking RHPS thing last weekend and the separately ran into the same person. They told her about my stories, and she seemed interested in reading them. "Oh how extraordinary," she apparently said. If that person is reading this I'd like to know what they think of it. Please send something to my gmail email: Sciencefictioncat

I really want to know what she thinks, if she did read it. Though she should tell me something about conversations she had (with one of the two friends who spoke to her about fanfics) so I know it's really her. I hope she reads this. I always want to know what people think of my stories! (Usually via reviews, though)