**Warning: totally ridiculous. I'd recommend skipping this, if at all possible**

"Hell" for level ii, part ii

Pairings: none

...

Still here? Alright, this is an incoherent second response to the Coppertone Wars' 12 Days of Christmas Challenges' 2nd Level "Write two totally AU fics"

Basically, instead of the PC throwing the "When hell freezes over" party in Best Friends for Never, it's Becca & Liz. Understand how stupid this is going to be? Good.

Continue at your own risk...

if you dare

(disclaimer: You guys better be glad I don't own the Clique)

Just inside the Vander estate, dozens of guests were excitedly filing in the doors past two butlers dressed in elegant devil apparel, complete with red coattails and long pointy pitchforks. Just beyond them stood Becca Vander and Liz Goldman, dressed in skimpy angel outfits sure to rival any guests'.

"Hey, and welcome to our 'When Hell Freezes Over' party!" they chorused over and over, graciously accepting the flowing praise. It looked like every boy and girl who was invited came… except for four. Looks like the pretty committee was jealous they hadn't thought of the boy-girl party first. At this thought, Becca couldn't stop smiling.

Finally, at fifteen past six, the hostesses ordered the devil-butlers to close the front doors. Becca and Liz were finally free to enjoy their own party.

Just in the doors, they were nearly knocked over by an over-caffeinated Landon Dorsey, skittering around like a chicken with her head cut off. The party planner paid them no mind as she fixed the thermostat on the wall. Once the room was rightfully sixty degrees (sixty-one was simply unacceptable) she ricocheted off to another section of the giant mansion, maybe to fix a bent flower stem or something equally ridiculous.

Becca and Liz shared a brief giggle before they composed their selves. Landon Dorsey was the reason this party was going to be a huge success, OCD and all. There, they separated.

Becca headed over to a clump of Briarwood boys, making sure to shimmy down her white Bebe number before.

Liz immediately headed towards a gaggle of her fellow spray-tan junkies and held out her arm to compare her orange levels. They were just getting in to a serious conversation about the owner of Sun of a Beach taking a maternity leave when a loud bong silenced them. A few seconds afterward, another bong resonated through the central party room.

Becca, still intermingled with the group of Briarwood Boys, glanced around in confusion as the third sound vibrated through the walls. Each sound seemed to be getting increasingly louder and longer.

In-between the fourth and the fifth bong, Becca rushed over to Liz. Confusion was apparent in her black kohl'd icy blue eyes.

"I don't get it!" Becca shouted over the fifth bong's echo. "We don't have a-"

The sixth bong cut her off. Becca waited for it to pass before continuing-

"A clock!" Becca finished. "And certainly not one this-"

She paused for the seventh sound to pass.

Becca abandoned her former sentence and used the reprise from the loud bonging to shriek, "LANDON!"

With a nearly eardrum-bursting decibel level, the eighth and final bong resonated throughout the crowd. When the sound waves finally faded away, it left a crowd of irritated, confused and slightly-deaf OCD and Briarwood-goers facing Becca for an explanation.

Becca shouted her party-planner's name again, this time a little softer. What in the world was going on? How could Landon Dorsey, legendary party planner of Massie Block's (there was a reason Becca had selected her) let this happen? People could start leaving unless Becca fixed this-stat.

"Uh, h-hey guys, sorry about that…" Becca said loudly, her narrowed eyes like chips of ice as she searched the crowd for her party planner. "...I, uh, really don't know what happened there, uh-"

"Looks like you picked the right theme, Becca," said a loud, digitized voice. Becca looked around in confusion, not registering the words or what they meant.

"Why? Because it's about to become the real thing… Hell. On. Earth."

The words slowly faded, and Becca opened her mouth to scream for Landon to do something. Before she could, every light in the Vander estate shut off with an eerie scrape.

Liz really couldn't help herself: she let out a scream, along with half of the OCD girls in the audience.

"Relax," the digitized voice cackled. "Hell isn't pitch-black, now is it?"

In answer, every light in the Vander estate lit up red.

The screams were only the start of the ensuing chaos. Two beings in ripped devil costumes rose out of the table behind Becca, and with loud laughter, dumped the "pallid punch" on her perfectly sculpted blonde angel curls. Becca let out an earsplitting scream that added to the hysteria. Immediately, the soaking-wet girl ran off in search of solace.

The two initial devils, with a high five, split off into the crowd of stampeding tweens.

One of the devils, this one with a red curl falling out of her headpiece, ran by chasing two Valentino-clad mice with blue food coloring dripping off of her talons. The mice, instead of being "misty silk" now resembled that one Picasso painting hanging in the OCD Café.

Landon Dorsey was curled up in the middle of the floor, sobbing hysterically as the party descended further into chaos. A group of tall princess-dress clad seventh-graders, hysterical in their own right, stampeded over the petite party planner as a ferocious foot-tall four-legged pug chased them. The black lapdog, every chance she got, would leap up and tear a piece of fabric from one of the girls' dresses. Slowly, the designer gowns were being transformed from full length to butt exposing Vegas wear.

Meanwhile, in the front foyer, one particularly voluptuous masked devil was busy torturing a gaggle of Briarwood Swim Team boys out the front door by dropping toilet paper soaked with Flowerbomb perfume. Intermittedly she would also throw a handful of assorted potpourri, intensifying the fumes. Her haunted giggles echoed off the walls, causing the boys to scramble for exits as quickly as possible.

The last devil was busy elsewhere, making sure that the lights kept flickering ominously and the screams kept filtering out of the Vander's Bose sound system. It was the last straw for many of the terrified middle-school tweens when the sound of a screeching catfight split through the stereo system at exactly 8:07.

And of course, the very last devil was comfortably seated on the precipice of the Vander roof, watching with amusement as terrified OCD and Briarwood goers fled the estate. Most had their iPhones up to their ears, anxiously begging their parents to come right then…or at least send the butler. The tide of people ebbed and flowed, but in less than ten minutes, everyone was gone. The party was ruined: past repair. With no people, you have no party.

With that thought, the devil casually stood up on the flat, light-sodden roof and smiled up at the moon.

"And that is why," she leered, "no one will ever overthrow Massie Block."

So, yeah, a little bit idiotic, but hey: AU!

Reviews would be great, I love seeing them!

See you on level three, I suppose?

-B

**edit: I promise the fics to come will be better than this...I hope!**