'Tis I, the elusive Carley… so sorry, this is waaaaaay overdue. Enjoy and relish in the sheer craziness! IT'S EMMETT!

CSI: Forks

Em:

'Ready Jazz?' I asked, masking tape in hand.

'READY!' he yelled enthusiastically and did a rendition of Shimmy Shimmy Can-Can™ to the tune of I Want That Man - what else was he going to dance it to? - to prove it. Guinness was still flowing strong in the Cullen Residence, but I preferred vodka. Dude, I mean, vodka was my vice. It was just awesome.

Like me.

'You know what to do, Jazz, don't you?' I was playing concerned parent for some reason. Maybe vodka and Guinness don't mix as well as I thought they did…

'Mmmm-HMM!' He nodded in an almost violent manner. He threw himself onto the floor. Like a dead man. A dead man playing dead.

'You lie there, I take this tape stuff and make an outline of your body…' I twisted the tape around in my hands. I couldn't find the opening.

'Yeah and we tell Alice and Rose and Carlisle and Edward that I'm dead!' He said.

'Jazz.' I glared at the tape in my hands. Stupid tape. Where was the damn opening?

'What?' he whined. Actually whined. Dude's seriously been taking lessons from Edward.

'Jazzy, Jazzy, Jazzy. Jaz-zaay. Jazz-Hands. The Jazzter.' I was about to say 'Jay-z' but that sounded uncomfortably familiar. It reminded me of both Linkin Park and weird mash-up rap songs. It wasn't a nice memory.

'Em?' He folded his arms across his chest. Like whatshisname. Oh yeah. That wannabe vampire guy. From that place I read in Carlisle's crazy book on shit. Dri - Dra- … Dracula.

'You can't go anywhere. I have to stuff you in…' I flitted to the sofa and backflipped over the back, reaching down and pulling the object I wanted to show him from behind it '…THIS body bag.'

'I dunno, Em.' Jazz looked wary. Or about as wary as a guy can look when he's completely blind drunk.

'It'll be FUN!' I yelled. Jazz and me - me and the JazzMan - had just watched three series of CSI: Miami on Fox. Rose and Alice were sorting through all of our wardrobes and Edward…. Edward was doing what any vampire would do if they'd run to Alaska to escape a sweet-tasting human: he was watching the Swan-girl sleep.

Bo-ooring. Anything you can do I can do better, Swan. Sleeping is the only damn exception. The only. Damn. Exception.

Ah, who was I kidding? I liked Bella. She smelled nice, it was true, but I wasn't going to turn loco-stalker so I could smell her at regular intervals throughout the day. That kinda behaviour was just plain weird.

Seriously.

'Ookay, Em. Oookay.'

He obligingly spread his arms and legs out on the ground at awkward angles and left his eyes open. They glazed over and he looked remarkably deader than usual. Deader. More dead?… Deader.

I twisted the tape faster in my hands. What the hell was the point in vampire-perfect (Which was perfecter than perfect) sight if it was useless when you wanted to use it? I stomped away to the kitchen - a convincing impression of an annoyed two year old - and grabbed a scissors. Damn it, Esme. How many times? I can't use small objects. They don't fit into my hands. What happened to industrial-sized kitchen implements?

I picked up a big knife and stabbed the roll of tape. Think you can outsmart me, do you, you stupid stupid roll of tape?

I stabbed it a couple more times, just to make sure. Unfortunately - for the tape - I was too strong and drunk to see what I was actually doing. The cardboard circle centre thing was kinda bent in half and most of the actual tape was on the floor.

But I'd outsmarted it.

'WELL NO SIR! I DON'T WANNA BE THE BLAME, NOT ANY MORE!'

I ran back out to Jazz. He was moshing like there was no tomorrow, making a strange gesture at the ceiling.

'Jazz? JAZZ!' I yelled.

THAT'S WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU LET YOUR HEART WIN! WOOOOAAAAAHHHH OH OHH OH!'

Jazz was singing too. If you could call it that. A bottle of Guinness was held sideways in between his thumb and middle finger, his index and pinky finger bobbing up and down in the air. Guinness was flying everywhere - the boy was lucky it wasn't vodka. If ever there was reason for murdering your brother, spilling vodka would be it.

'JAZZ! WHAT-IS-THAT?'

'It's PARAMORE, Emmett! Em, it's Paramore!' Jazz had adopted a whiny voice that scarily reminded me of… of unicorns. And Candy Mountain. I needed to find a computer, ASAP. This whole loosing-your-memory-when-you-drink was really annoying.

'Wait… Paramore? Like… the band?'

'YEAH!' Jazz yelled.

'JAZZ!'

'WHAT?'

'WHAT'RE YOU DOING WITH YOUR HAND?'

'I DUNNO! HAYLEY WILLIAMS TOLD ME TO DO IT! I THINK SHE ASKED 'I WANNA SEE SOME HORNS, CHICAGO!''

'BUT WE'RE IN FORKS! AND YOU'RE DEAD, JAZZ!'

'Oh. Oh yeah.' Jazz twirled around the room doing some crazy arm-wobbling thing that made him look like a half-crazed octopus. Except he only had two arms.

Jazz lay down on the floor again and I produced my defeated masking tape.

'Lie still.' I said. Paramore continued singing behind me.

How cool would I look with a guitar? Emmett the Rocker-Bear­­­­­. Totally awesome.

'I got a lot to say to you, I got a lot to say, I noticed your eyes are always glued to me you're keeping them here and it makes no sense at all….'

Jazz continued to sing to himself, shimmying on the floor.

'Technically dead people don't sing.'

'Dead people don't drink vodka either but we're doing A-OKAY!' he said, and picked up a bottle of vodka and cradled it in his arms. I knelt down beside him and began outlining his body with the tape.

'Why-' I started. I wanted that bottle in his arms.

'It's how I'd prefer to die, Em.'

Okay.

Jazz couldn't lie still. He was miming a guitar solo using the vodka as the stringy thing part. The bit you hold. I finally finished after I sat on his arms. Jazz continued to bobble his head around to the music.

'Aaannnddd…. There!' I stood up, pulling Jazz with me. We side-stepped and hand-jived to the other side of the room - I was following Jazz's lead - and surveyed our Jazz outline.

We stared.

Jazz tilted his head to the side.

I stared some more.

'It…'

'What?'

'It looks like the Blob Man.'

'Yea- who?' Jazzy had lost his little mind.

He frowned. 'When we were at that concert… or maybe it was on the ship… somebody said their pirate head-scarf thing made them look like that pink and yellow spotty thing… The Blob Man?'

' I haven't a clue who you're talking about. So let us away to GOOGLE!' I leaped up and grabbed Jazz's arm. He was doing jazz-hands really slowly to Decoy. I improvised with a little Saturday Night Fever dancing.

I jumped and landed on the chair in front of Carlisle's laptop. He wouldn't mind…. It's not as if anything important or incriminating was on it. This was Carlisle I was talking about.

'WARNING. YOU ARE ABOUT TO DELETE THE ENTIRE CONTENTS OF THE SYSTEM'S HARDRIVE. PRESS ESCAPE TO CANCEL OR ENTER TO CONFIRM.' I read it out slowly.

'Escape'… 'Escape'… I lifted up the keyboard. No escape key. Sure, we had an 'Enter' key and two 'Ctrl' keys and for some reason a 'Num Lock' key. But all I could find was an 'Esc.'

'Oh well.'

I pressed 'Enter'. Files flashed up on the screen. 'CARLISLE FAMILY ' 'FAMILY TREE ' flew to the delete bin along with 'UNDISCOVERED AND UNACKNOWLEDGED FORMULAE by C.C. DOC'.

1300-present day? That might have taken him a while… ah, who cares. He's a vampire with thousands of years on his hands. He might thank me for giving him something to do.

'Right. G-O-O-G-L-E.' I stabbed the word out on the keyboard.

Jazz swayed side to side on the chair beside me.

'Right Jazz. What're we doing?'

'Try…. The Blobman.'

I typed obligingly. T-H-E-B-L-O-B-M-A-N.

Stick figures and non-descript blob creatures - some of which looked scarily like the last art project I handed in - appeared on the screen.

'No… try… Mr. Blobby.'

M-R-B-L-O-B-B-Y.

Jazz and I screamed in unison. I slammed the laptop closed and made a well-aimed throw out the window. The laptop flew and I heard a splash as it landed in the river. Great shot, Em.

'It's hideous!' I yelled.

'Why?… Why?… Why?… Why?… Why?…' Jazz whispered. I let him question the horrific thing we'd just seen for a minute before I smacked him upside the head.

'Our blob looks nothing like that.' I said in an attempt to soothe him. And soothe myself. If I had a functioning heart it'd be racing.

***

'Right, Jazz. Lie on the floor behind the couch. Quick! Rose is coming!' Ten minutes later Jazz was calm enough to continue faking his own death.

Jazz obliged, but curled into a foetal position and rocked back and forwards once out of sight. Ah, Jazz.

Rose danced in, stepping on Jazz's body outline without seeing it and running to me.

'You won't believe what's happened!' we yelled together.

'You first.' I said. My Rose didn't do patient.

'I bought a casino!' She said and danced around the room. 'Hey, what's this music? I kinda like it!' she said.

'Paramore. And, uh, Rose… wait, a casino?' I liked casinos. You could drink there and nobody would complain too much if you got up and

'Yes! I thought it'd be nice to do something together… Forks is such a bore, and Edward is off playing stalker to his little human lap-dog…'

'It's Bella, Rose.'

'Whatever.' She cracked open a bottle of the good stuff - vodka, that is.

'So, Em. What did you want to say?'

'Oh. That. Oh! Rose, Jazz is dead.'

'Huh?'

'He's dead, Rose.'

'He's been dead for a long time, Em. We all have.' She stared at me before she resumed dancing.

'No, I mean, look!' I towed her over to stand beside the Jazzline on the floor.

'Nice, Em.' She raised an eyebrow. Somebody - and I had a pretty good idea who - had stuck a face on the Jazzline so it looked more comic than tragic.

'Jazz stuck the face o- I mean, Jazz would have wanted to go like this. Always in for the last laugh.' I bowed my head slightly. I thought I looked pretty damn innocent.

'Jasper wouldn't know a laugh if it kicked him up the ass, Emmett.'

'Uhh…' I said. I heard a little strangled noise coming from behind the sofa.

'Look, Rose, I borrowed some stuff from Carlisle's office - gloves and stuff. Why don't we investigate? Dibs on being Horatio!'

'Yeah, okay. I want Carlisle's laptop though.' She smiled.

'Ah.' I was about to fabricate a convincing lie - something along the lines of: 'It's Carlisle's laptop I don't think we should touch his stuff and besides Jazz wanted to be buried with it we have to respect his wishes.' - but just then Edward came running in.

'Emmett. Rose.' He said.

'What?'

'Bella's coming over tomorrow.'

'WHAT?' I yelled.

'WHAT?' Jazz's voice floated eerily from behind the sofa.

'Why? She's human, Edward! What happens if Jazz tries to kill her? Oh, no, wait, Jasper's dead.'

'Of course Jasper's dead. Rosalie, we've all been dead for -' Edward looked suitably confused. Serves him right, really, for ruining our little game.

Edward sat down on the sofa. Jazz jumped up behind him. I glared at him and he stiffened his limbs so he looked a bit more zombie-like.

'Jasper.' Edward said. He wasn't surpri- Oh, yeah. He's a freak. I'd forgotten.

'Edward, what the hell were you thinking?' I demanded.

'I was thinking I'd like her to meet you all. And I'm only back to change my clothes; I'm leaving again in a bit. What's that tape on the floor? Esme won't like it. And is that Carlisle's medical kit?' Edward asked.

'No… it's nothing… it's-'

'Edward, we bought a casino!' Rose yelled.

Thanks, Rose.

***

A/N: Well, hi everybody! It's MEEE! Carley! I'm back in the land of the living… or the not-snowed-under-by-mocks-study… granted, I still have a week left of mocks but I couldn't hold it off any longer… Some things are just more important in life. Like Fanfiction!

Well, I think it was a too subtle hint - considering I'd forgotten it was a hint - but I the Paramore song I'd picked wasn't a coincidence. That's What You Get: 'No sir, I don't wanna be the blame, not anymore'… that was cause I needed to get this chapter written and it was my fault we didn't get many reviews in the past few weeks. Now it'll be Aoife's fault… hahahaha! (I'm sorry, Aoifz, that's actually kinda mean… You know I don't actually mean it!)

Up Next: Smell that blood… It's Bella! (And not that tissue you found up your sleeve, Aoife… I shudder to think what that was about…) And of course, the one, the only… The Deirdre Broganator! Haha… I mean Aoife!

(Google the WakeWood… you know you want to…)