The Joys of Fanfiction
Emmett discovers fanfiction, much to Edward's annoyance. Need I say more? Jasper's POV.
Stephenie Meyer owns all that you recognize in the story that follows! No copyright infringement is intended.
5. Prepare to Meet Your Doom
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1022 Review this Chapter
"Hey, Esme, where do you want the mulch?" His booming voice echoed throughout the house. "Esme?" No reply. "Carlisle? Rose? Is anyone here?" He was slightly unnerved now. "Is this supposed to be some kind of a joke?" I stifled my snort of laughter in a particularly large palm leaf.
Prepare to meet your doom, fool.
It was Alice's cue. She burst out of the coat closet, a vision in brown faux fur. I couldn't see her from my position, but we had rehearsed the scene so many times that I could visualize it easily. Vicious, canine snarls erupted from her throat as she circled him in ever-shrinking spirals.
Thunk. It seemed that Emmett had dropped the bag of mulch.
"Is that you, Alice?" He sounded mildly amused. "What is this, Halloween? You didn't have to dress up like an ugly dog, you know. No offense, but you look kinda stupid."
The growling increased in volume. I smiled. Perfect.
No one insulted Alice's fashion sense and got away with it.
"AHAHAhaha--stop--AHHH!" The screaming was music to my ears. "HOW--AH--did you--AH--know about my--AHHH--tickle spot?" He was dry-sobbing. Alice growled again. "EWWW! GROSS! STOP LICKING ME, YOU DOG!" I snickered. There was a ripping sound. "Alice." More growling. "Don't you dare--" I raised my eyebrows. Alice seemed to be burying him in a pile of mulch; a stroke of genius on her part. He was truly scared now.
With a wonderfully convincing last snarl, Alice pulled the front door off its hinges, threw it on top of Emmett, and went outside to howl triumphantly at the sky.
I heard nothing from the foyer but a slight whimpering.
Rosalie, looking quite, er, striking in a shiny black mask and billowing cape, toting her weapon of choice, slowly descended the stairway, coming to a stop before her husband's prostrate body. There was a crash. She lifted the door off of him.
"Rose!" He sounded immeasurably relieved. I sighed. He clearly hadn't seen her face yet.
"Thank goodness; Alice was being really freaky, and--" I heard the hiss-puh, hiss-puh of Rosalie's breathing. She'd always been one for the dramatics.
"No." I could barely hear his trembling voice. "Rose, this really isn't funny any more--" Hiss-puh, hiss-puh. "If this is about the time I messed up your closet last week, I'm sorry! Can't we work it out--" The click of a sword being drawn. Hiss-puh. There was a loud pzzt-ing noise. "OUCH!"
"LUKE." Her voice was a low rasp.
Emmett was surely on the floor by now; those light sabers could be painful.
"Noooooo." It was a little, terrified moan.
Pzzzt. "Shut up."
"I AM YOUR FATHER."
Pzzzt pzzzt pzzzt pzzzt.
And with a swoosh of her cape and one last hiss-puh, Mr.--excuse me, Ms.--Vader left the building.
It was my turn now.
I stepped out from behind my plant, readjusting my platinum tresses, and leapt to the top of the stairs, hands on my hips, Superman-style.
I slid down the banister, my ankles daintily crossed, coming to a skidding halt before the emotional heap of mulchy pathetic-ness also known as my brother.
"Jasper, thank goodness, a guy!" He was babbling. "What is with the girls lately? First Bella attacks me, now Alice and Rosalie! You wouldn't believe what they just did to me--" I smiled thinly. "Hey, you don't think that it's possible for vampires to get PMS, d'you? 'Cause that was hormonal aggression if I ever saw it . . ."
He was trying to joke with me. The traitor was acting as though we were best buddies.
That was the final straw.
I fluffed my wig, kicked Emmett to his feet, and made him look me in the eye, watching with satisfaction as bewilderment, terror, and a confused sort of comprehension washed over him. "Not you, too! What's going on?" It was a lament. I smiled at him seductively, giving my hula-skirted hips the tiniest of shakes. He was frozen with horror.
"Hey there, you big hunka man." I did my best to make my voice girlish and yet husky. "How's it going, hot stuff?"
Now, before you start calling me all sorts of bad names, please remember that I didn't write this dialogue. Emmett had, in one of his craptastic little stories. And it was all going to come back to slap him in the face.
I fluttered my eyelashes at my brother, repulsed, yet fascinated by what I was doing. His mouth was wide open, his eyes dead and blank with shock.
He wasn't biting.
Well, I would've been quite frightened if he had.
And so I used the best weapon in my arsenal, dunking Emmett headfirst into a bucket of steaming hot lust. Metaphorically, of course. But it did the trick.
He let out a low sort of grunt and moved towards me, hands outstretched, like a zombie. I giggled frivolously.
"You . . . pretty . . ." he sounded like a troll. My skin crawled. Oh, the depths I would sink to to get revenge . . .
Emmett's disgusting lips missed my face by inches, and I felt that this had gone far enough to be effective. Lust, poof--goodbye; cold water, swish--hello.
Emmett froze, his lips still puckered, and saw me through clear eyes. A convulsive spasm ran through his entire body, jolting him like a bolt of lightning. A silent scream--a squeak, if you will--escaped his throat.
"NOOOOO!" He bellowed. "MAN!" He began to jump up and down, his eyes screwed up, his hands balled into fists. The floorboards shook beneath him. "MANLY! I'm a . . . MAN?" It was more of a question than a statement of fact. He was seriously panicking. I sighed complacently, happily. He took a second look at me, let out another squeak of terror, and made for the kitchen at full speed. I followed him at a leisurely pace, grinning widely.
My day just kept getting better and better.
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