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Malicious Mascara

Summary:
Emmett finds mascara in the girls' bathroom. Can he outsmart it or will it outsmart him?


Notes:
What happens when Emmett gets into a whole lot of chaos, instigated by curiosity and lack of self-control? A series of mishaps and fanfiction chapters of course!


2. Victory is Mine!

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1051   Review this Chapter

When the comb idea failed, I ran downstairs to one of Esme’s drawers and found her antique silver fork. If Napolean found use in this, then I can too.

I started forking my eyebrows, using the tines to separate the individual hairs. I growled each time. Oh! Ah! In my anger I had scratched my bottom eyelid with it. Dog dick! If this had no worth to Esme, the fork would’ve been in pieces by now. You know the saying, “Guns don’t kill people; people kill people?” Yeah, that’s BS. People don’t kill people, forks kill people.

Ironic how I live here too.

I threw the fork back, leaving the other utensils in disarray. Should I clean it up? Nah, Edward can do that.

Hey. Maybe Edward has something of use. I rushed outside. Yes! His Volvo was still parked out front.

I searched his glove compartment. Nothing. I searched the back row next. Nada. Wait, is that a bobble head? A Michael Jackson bobble head? Just because we’re albino-looking like him too… Edward, you’ve got problems. I hope you can read my mind right now! You hear that! YOU’VE GOT PROBLEMS!

I was about to walk back inside when I caught a glint of light. Was that me? I knew my sparkles could be blinding. Deathly blinding.

­­“Are we there yet?”

“No.” Carlisle, Edward, and Jasper replied simultaneously.

Five seconds later.

“Are we there yet?”

“Emmett, for the 4,381st time, NO!” Carlisle answered.

Five seconds later.

“Emmett, don’t even ask. I may not be psychic, but I sure as hell know what you’re going to say.” Jasper said irritably.

I pouted. This was no fun. We were out here in a secluded forest—practically the middle of nowhere—at the break of dawn. We’ve been traveling for 21,910 seconds—exactly 365.2 minutes or 6.0867 minutes. This was not fun at all. Besides, I’m starving.

“I want bears.”

“Ok,” Edward replied tiredly.

Five, four, three, two…

“I want bears.”

Now Jasper replied. “Ok.”

Five seconds later.

“I want— ”

“We get it already. We’re almost there.” Wow, Edward is so bitchy when he’s away from Bella. Bitchy and BRATTY.

“I heard that.”

Brat.

“Teddy bear.”

Brat. How about I get you a Bratz doll.

“Lovely. I’ll be sure to get a Build-a-Bear in return.”

“Boys.” Carlisle threatened.

Five seconds later.

“Are we there yet?”

Jasper took a bird off a tree and handed it to me.

"Here. Bon a petit.”

Just then, the sun reflected off my skin and there was this buzzing noise. The bird fell into a daze before it collapsed onto the ground next to me. It was as if I’d just tasered it. I guess looks really do kill.

“Great going, Jasper. You killed it.”

“Me?! You’re the one with the Princess Barbie glittery skin.”

“Well if you hadn’t grabbed it off the tree, that bird wouldn’t be dead!”

“You’re the one who can’t keep his mouth shut!”

“Look who’s talking!”

“BOYS!” Carlisle yelled. He picked up the bird and gave it to me.

“Either eat that damn thing or take it home as a pet.”

I did both. I bit it. Now I have a vampire Tweety. Well, I used to have a vampire Tweety. But it mysteriously disappeared the day Rosalie’s stupid vampire Sylvester showed up. I’ve always wondered why his bloody fecal material had canary feathers. Parkinson’s disease, my ass. I’m not that stupid. The only logical explaination is that the yellow feathers are a symptom of Alzheimer’s, like Edward said.

I turned around and saw the windshield wipers. I gently disassembled one. Ok, that’s a lie, or in Edward’s words, a euphemism. I practically RIPPED that thing out of there. Hey, if it can clean windshields, it can clean my eyelashes.

I proceeded to wipe. Ah! It burns! It was like a giant carpet burn! And I’ve had my share of experiences with those, but that’s a story for another day.

Gah! Ok. That malicious mascara clump should be gone by now. I looked into the rearview mirror.

What the pup!

My face was clean—and mildly red—but it was still there! I made a sacrifice—I risked my existence (and my beautiful skin) to get that damn thing off. Now Edward’s going to kill me and all for nothing! I found duct tape and I taped the windshield wiper back on. I patted it. Maybe he won’t notice.

I walked back inside, dragging my feet behind me. I sat down on the couch, ready to surrender to my non-living, demonic host. The non-living aspect just made it even worse. I can’t kill it!

Or can I?

BING! A light bulb went on! Or is it CLICK? Wait, then what’s BING for? Oh… BINGO!

I rushed to Carlisle’s spare medical bag. Now began my freedom and the clump’s tragic end. Muahahaha…. The terminator has arrived.

Six-inch scalpel? No, too sharp. Foot-long saw? Oh… that was a much better choice than the scalpel, but no, too masochistic. Tweezers? No, that’s reserved for the eyebrows.

Before you say anything, I do NOT pluck my eyebrows. Ok. Maybe a little. But that’s only because Alice keeps telling me how she sees me doing it in the future anyways. Hey! Hold on. How did she see that when I didn’t decide yet? That sneaky pixie.

Aha! Scissors! Perfect! Clump, prepare to meet your doom!

I ran back upstairs, back to the place where this all started. The bathroom.

I stood real close to the mirror. I studied my possibilities. Either I win and then play Guitar Hero or I lose and go downstairs and sulk. And then play Guitar Hero.

My short-lived, stubborn, wicked clump: May the force be with you.

Well, goes everything. Literally.

When Rosalie came home, I was on the advanced level.

“Hey. What did you do all day?”

I shrugged. “Nothing much.”

She smiled. “Did you have any problems? Wrestle anything?”

“Nope. No problems whatsoever.” Now, it was my turn to smile. The “problems” were flushed down the toilet, like Eric Dorkie.

She sat down next to me. After a while, she turned towards me. Her smile disappeared.

“Honey, where are all your eyelashes?”

Oops.

From outside, I heard Alice’s car door slam. Edward screamed.

“EMMETT!”

Guess he did notice.

Double oops.