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It's Just A Game Mods ([personal profile] itsjustthemads) wrote in [community profile] itsjustagamerp2012-06-03 07:08 pm

Experiment #20 - Modelland - Chapter 3

Modelland - Chapter 3
By Tyra Banks

Ammy: [Ammy trots into the theater, sniffing around. This should be a bit tricky, considering she can’t actually say anything about this bad story. Well, at least not with words. She finally finds a spot and sits down in front of the front row.]
Chibi: [Chibi trots into the theater and pulls himself up into a seat next to Ammy. He looks around the theater; it seems like some weird stuff has happened here. Chibi notes the fallen sign a ways away and looks up. Hopefully nothing else is about to come crashing down.]
Perry: [As if on cue:]

[Perry drops down from the ceiling like the secret agent he is. He lands perfectly in the seat on Ammy’s other side and looks around. Wait...he was heading for the kitchen how did he wind up here? He sighs, can they at least get popcorn? No? Fine, he’ll deal with this in other ways apparently.]
Chibi: [Chibi jumps when Perry lands into the chair and barks at him. That was a cool entrance! His actress friend would really have liked it.]
Perry: [Shrugs, it was nothing after all. Part of the job]
Ammy: [Smiles back at Perry. It may have been part of the job, but it was still cool-looking.]


3434 Pepper Lane, the home of Tookie De La Crème.

Perry: [holds up a poster:]

Ah, the De La Crème residence! A splendiferous, luxurious palazzo

Chibi: [scribbles a picture down and holds it up:]

of a dwelling with a marble façade, grand archways and columns, wrought-iron balconies at its second-floor bedrooms, and a fountain in the center of the yard, complete with a nude male statue with rippling musculature.

Perry: [Stands up in his seat and starts doing muscle flexes and poses. He is truly the epitome of manliness. This clip plays in the background:]

Truly glorious! The crème of the De La Crèmes! We all wish we could abide in such a grand abode!

Ammy: [Plays a clip:]

But be careful what you wish for, dahling. All that glitters is sometimes gold-plated.

Perry: [Pulls out a bag of glitter. Throws it in the air like confetti. Good luck getting that out of the seats later]
Chibi: [sneezes, then looks as reproachfully as a puppy can at Perry]
Ammy: [whines and tries to shake the glitter out of her fur]

What’s that? There, in the corner, in the foundation near the koi pond and the birdbath made of bronze. That zigzagging line shaped like a witch’s profile. Is that...a crack?

Ammy: [Draws a particular symbol...will this help?]

Chibi: [Draws another one, just in case]

And there, next to the crack, that silvery mass crisscrossed on the stucco—that can’t possibly be duct tape?

Perry: [Pulls out another sign:]

Chibi: [holds up another picture and whines questioningly:]

Watch your head! Did a chunk of slate just fall off the roof?

Ammy: [pulls up another picture:]

Surely your smoky eyes

Perry: [Draws a picture:]

Chibi: [Draws his own picture:]

have deceived you. Surely these patterns of fissures in the foundation are just decorative elements. The De La Crèmes have nothing to hide.

Or do they?

Perry: [Holds up this poster now:]

Ammy: [Plays a clip:]

Tookie walked up the seven stairs that led to her front door, tripping on the crooked third step. Another piece of slate broke off from the roof and fell to the ground, nearly slicing her skull in two.

Perry: [cues this clip:]

“Oh my God,” she murmured. She’d have to tell her parents about how the roof almost tried to kill her.

Ammy: [pulls up another picture:]

After steadying herself, she stood with her fingers on the door handle, hesitating before she entered, wishing she didn’t have to cross the threshold but knowing she had nowhere else to go. This was her home.

She opened the door and tripped again, first over a cardboard box that said CREAMY DE LA CRÈME on the shipping label.

When she shut the door, goose bumps immediately rose on her skin, and her sweaty locks nearly turned into coil-shaped icicles.

Ammy: [pulls up another picture:]

Tookie’s mother insisted that their home’s thermostat be kept at almost subzero temperatures at all times to combat the blazing Peppertown heat.

Perry: [draws a picture:]

Chibi: [pulls up a picture in response:]

Plus, she said people looked “fresher” when they were cold.

Ammy: [plays a clip:]

Tookie then heard the banging of pipes and the whoosh of water spewing through taps. It sounded as though all the sinks, showers, and bathtubs were running simultaneously.

“Brown spot,” her mother’s voice rang out. Then a hollow clunk. “Brown spot,” her voice called again. “Ach! Another brown spot!” Clunk.

Ammy: [Draws a picture:]

Chibi: [holds up a picture:]

Perry: [Cues this clip:]

Tookie swept into the kitchen, which looked gleaming and new if one didn’t peer very closely. The unused appliances shone. The pots and pans hanging over the island had price tags on them. The teapot was resting on a stovetop burner, tape covering the spout. A knife set still lived in its shrink-wrapped packaging.

Ammy: [Draws a picture:]

But if one were to go around the room with a not-very-strong magnifying glass, it would soon become clear that duct tape, electrical tape, caulk, industrial-strength glue, and other binding agents held the walls upright.

Ammy: [Holds up another picture with a questioning whine:]

“I am having a panic attack right now!” Mrs. De La Crème exclaimed.
Tookie’s mother loomed over the kitchen counter, holding a bunch of bananas by the fingertips of one hand, examining their skins with a photographer’s loupe.

Perry: [cues this clip:]

Chibi: [holds up a picture, looking quite proud of himself.]

Her other arm held Bellissima, a lifelike baby doll dressed in a multilayered butter-yellow dress with lace trim, complete with a pacifier in her mouth.

Ammy: [holds up a picture:]

Bellissima was Mrs. De La Crème’s favorite doll from her extensive collection. “I thought this banana was spotless, but it has one tiny brown speck! Yuck!” She tossed the banana into the trash.

Perry: [Perry, sighs and cues another clip. Jeeze.]

Today, Mrs. De La Crème—or Creamy, as she insisted everyone call her, including her children—wore a perfectly tailored white one-piece pantsuit with dramatically pointed shoulder pads and a cinched belt to accentuate her small waist.

Ammy: [Winces, and holds up another picture:]

Chibi: [shakes his head and offers a different picture:]

A badge hanging around her neck said REGIONAL MANAGER, followed by the logo for Perfecta-Fecta, the beauty department store for which she worked. It was a very good job for a Metopian, a million steps above working in a factory.

Chibi: [Shows another drawing:]

She’d pulled her dark hair into a Très Jolie twist that was so severe it stretched the skin around her forehead and eyes, making her look startled.

Ammy: [puts a paw over her eyes and holds up another picture:]

And though her body and soft, lineless, tan-skinned hands were remarkably well preserved, her face was a different story. Thick makeup clumped heavily in permanent lines on and around her mouth. Deep crow’s-feet fanned out from the corners of her eyes all the way to her ears. Even her nose was covered in wrinkles.

Tookie hoped that whatever her mother’s affliction was wasn’t hereditary.

“And this one? Too yellow!” Mrs. De La Crème went on. “I need green ones only!”

Perry: [holds up this picture:]

Ammy: [Another wince, and cues up another clip:]

Her gaze fluttered to Tookie. For a moment, she looked through her daughter the same way everyone at school did. Then she blinked, bringing Tookie into focus. “Ah. Hello, dear. You haven’t been picking bananas out of the garbage bin and putting them back onto the counter, have you?”

Perry: [cues this clip now:]

Tookie blinked, her mind struggling to shift directions. “Um, n-n-no...”

Ammy: [holds up another picture:]

“Well, someone has.” Then Mrs. De La Crème thrust a small jar of pickles at Tookie. “Can those baby fingers of yours dig out a gherkin for me? I’m starving.”

Tookie wiggled her small, slim fingers. Her mother was always talking about how delicate and dexterous they were, perfect for sewing small stitches or digging items out of tight jars.

Ammy: [cues up another song:]

Tookie eyed the lush fruit in the waste bin. Bananas weren’t the only items in the trash pile. There were mouthwatering grapes, two perfectly ripe avocados, and three tomatoes whose skins had just turned from green to red.

Perry: [cues up another clip:]

Then Tookie moved over to turn off the sink faucet, which was indeed gushing brownish water. “Don’t you dare!” Mrs. De La Crème screamed, and Tookie froze. “I’m keeping all the taps open until T-DOD! Water must flow continuously into this house! And when our SMIZE comes, we must catch it!”

Ammy: [draws up another picture:]

Tookie stepped away from the faucet. Every year, on the eve of T-DOD, the world’s reservoirs ran dry because everyone kept their taps open, looking for a SMIZE.

Ammy: [draws up another picture:]

Chibi: [cues up a clip:]

The television was on behind them, and a reporter, coincidentally, was reporting on the hidden SMIZEs. “Now four SMIZEs have been found,” the man said excitedly. “A gang of hooligan females spotted the device floating in a condemned swimming pool in PitterPatter today. They rushed the barbwire fence and dove into the murky, stagnant, unfit-for-human-contact water.

Perry: [calls up this clip:]

An underwater riot broke out, severely injuring three girls.

Ammy: [Draws another picture:]

One is in critical condition at Shivera hospital.” The screen showed the girl who’d battled for the SMIZE and won. She was covered in pond scum and had a mix of black muck and blood all over her face and body, but she held a glittering, golden glasses-shaped object over her head and whooped with glee.

Perry: [cue this song:]

Ammy: [shows another picture:]

“Hmph,” Mrs. De La Crème said, folding her arms across her chest. “That disgusting creature does not deserve a SMIZE. Not like The Myrracle does.”

Perry: [probably should have used this earlier, but better late than never he points to the ceiling:]

Then the news shifted to a different story. “There is still no word on what has happened to the world’s most famous Intoxibella, Ci~L,” the anchor said.

Chibi: [holds up a picture again. Maybe this explains her pickiness over the bananas:]

“The official word is that she’s gone on hiatus, but rumors have surfaced that something darker has happened to her. Abduction.

Ammy: [Cues up another song:]

An airborne terminal illness. A mental breakdown. Keep in mind, this is a woman who has been very forthcoming about how her childhood was spent in a place without a single mirror.

Ammy: [Looks questioning, and draws another picture:]

Chibi: [holds up another picture instead:]

One can only assume how that might psychologically impact a person as they reach adulthood. But let’s pray that our formidable Triple7 is soon on the mend!”

Mrs. De La Crème glowered at the picture of the effervescent Ci~L that had popped on the screen. “Uch,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Let’s pray that she stays missing forever.”

Perry: [another clip]

Mrs. De La Crème suddenly started to applaud and Tookie’s stomach dropped. She knew what was to follow. Sure enough, Myrracle spun into the house, followed by her best friend, Brian. Myrracle and Brian bobbed in unison to music only the two of them could hear.

Ammy: [pulls up another clip:]

They jumped and spread their feet out, arched their heads back, rolled up through their torsos, and pointed at Tookie and Mrs. De La Crème.

Ammy: [Is this too meta? Oh well, it’s what she’s going to pull up anyway:]

Every limb on Myrracle’s body, every joint, moved gracefully and fluidly and with the utmost confidence. It was impossible for anyone, even Tookie, to take their eyes off her. Even though she was thirteen and Tookie was fifteen, she was more womanly than Tookie in every way—she’d even developed faster, getting her period earlier that year. Tookie still hadn’t gotten hers yet.

Ammy: [No pictures here...Ammy just whines and puts her paws over her eyes.]
Perry: [Shakes his head and plays this clip:]

With a couple more hip rolls and knee dips, Myrracle and Brian slid to the floor with their arms spread out as Myrracle exclaimed, “Da-tahhhh!”

Ammy: [yawns]
Perry: [snores]
Chibi: [flops onto his back, yawning]
All: [adorable sleepy animal cuddlepile]

Mrs. De La Crème applauded tepidly. “Myrracle, baby, it’s not da-tah—it’s ta-dah. And what have I told you? Every hallway is a runway, not a dance hall! What you need to be doing is practicing your walk!”

Perry: [cues the music:]

“But I love dancing.” Myrracle pouted.

Ammy: [cues up this song:]

“Yes, honey. I know. But you don’t love it better than becoming an Intoxibella, do you?” Mrs. De La Crème shrieked.

Ammy: [pulls up another picture:]

Myrracle looked torn, like she didn’t know how to answer.

“I think dance will help Myrracle on T-DOD.” Brian wrapped his arm around Myrracle’s shoulder. His voice was both feathery and sharp. “Right, doofus?”

Chibi: [holds up a picture:]

Perry: [looks confused and cues this song now, even if he’s not sure it completely fits:]

“It’s true, Creamy,” Myrracle whined, not noticing Brian’s insult—she usually didn’t. “What I have to do first to prepare is to get my dancing to perfectness-ness. That way, I can pose the best of the rest in a vest and pass the test and be the guest and walk with zest unlest they want me to walk from the east to the west and...” She launched into a tap number.

Perry: [holds up a drawing:]

“Stop it!” Mrs. De La Crème yelled.

Ammy: [cues up another clip:]

“So my baby girl wants to be a professional dancer like her daddy,” boomed a voice from the doorway. “I thought your routine was fantastic.”

In the doorway stood Mr. De La Crème. He was much younger than Tookie’s mother. A stained black unitard cut deeply into his flesh.

Perry: [winces, that sounds painful]
Ammy: [holds up another picture:]

His once-powerful muscles sagged. He swept across the room, scooped Myrracle up, and spun her around. He closed his left eye, which was made of glass, an unfortunate souvenir of an acrobatic performance gone awry many years ago when he was The Incredible Chris-Crème-Crobat and not just Christopher De La Crème.

Chibi: [holds up a picture:]

Ammy: [glances at the picture, paints a little something extra on it, and holds that one up:]

Perry: [holds up a picture:]

[he glances at Ammy and Chibi’s drawings and then takes the picture and adds a few things.]
. . . [Perry makes a face]

“Are you excited, pumpkin?” Mr. De La Crème asked Myrracle, sweeping past Tookie like he didn’t even see her. Usually, he didn’t.

Myrracle lowered her eyes. “I guess. But I’m frightening too.”

Ammy: [cocks her head in confusion. Is that what she means?]

“Scared?” Brian snorted. “Honey, I didn’t know your li’l ol’ brain could be scared. And anyway, girl, they’re gonna choose you for sure.”

“My baby girl, finally walking in The Day of Discovery.”

Perry: [well, gotta cue this:]

Mr. De La Crème wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. Indeed, now thirteen years old, Myrracle was finally participating in the grand event.

There wasn’t an official minimum age for who could compete during T-DOD, but no one younger than thirteen had ever been chosen.

Then Mr. De La Crème pulled a chair out from the kitchen island. “Sit down, Myrracle, baby. Rest your feet.”

Chibi: [cues up a video:]

“Oh, Christopher, will you stop smothering her?” Mrs. De La Crème said brusquely. Then she leaned down and brushed a stray hair from Myrracle’s forehead. “My, my. We need to get you to the salon so Perry can do something with those atrocious split ends!”

Ammy: [Turns to look at Perry in confusion. Does he know something about split ends?]
Perry: [blinks. Holds up a picture he drew of himself?]

Chibi: [cues this clip and glances at Perry:]

Mr. De La Crème shot his wife an icy glare. “Woman, how stupid do you think I am? You just want to get her to that damn salon so you can do whatever you do with Perry

Ammy: [Slooooowly turns to look at Perry again]
Perry: [SIGH, cues up this song...again]

while Myrracle is under the dryer! I see how you look at him.”

Mrs. De La Crème thrust her nose in the air. “How dare you insult me and accuse me of such filth! And who are you, mister one-eyed ex–circus star who spends his nights boozing?”

Perry: [plays this song:]

Mr. De La Crème roared back, “At least I don’t cheat on your ol—”

“Stop it!” Myrracle whined, and both parents froze. “Back to me, everyone! I’m the most important girl in the room, ’member?” Her voice and face were so adorable that the tension was momentarily forgotten.

Ammy: [pulls up another picture:]

Perry: [cues this music:]

Tookie popped another baby gherkin into her mouth, feeling as irrelevant as the bananas in the trash can.

Perry: [holds up this picture:]

She spied the Peppertown Press and picked it up, a welcome distraction from being invisible in her own home.

Ammy: [pulls up another picture:]

Perry: [pulls up a picture as well:]

Chibi: [adds another picture to the pile:]

Ammy: [adds yet another picture:]

Perry: [holds up this picture:]

Chibi: [and another one:]

“Give me that, Tookie!” her mother said, snatching it from her hands. “I haven’t read the paper yet, and you know I cannot stand touching it after anyone else has had their dirty hands on it.” She thumbed through the pages. “Ha! The police are moving in closer on that fugitive baroness!” She read the article aloud: “ ‘Authorities believe the baroness may have fled to Terra BossaNova,

Ammy: [looks confused, and holds up two pictures:]

although they have no firm proof. They are working with BossaNovian local authorities to track down this evildoer, who has ruined the lives of tens of thousands and scarred the image of the annual Intoxistakes event, in which second-year students travel to Striptown and gamblers bet on which girls will become Intoxibellas upon graduation.’ ” She looked up. “I hope they find that shady wench.

Chibi: [holds up another picture:]

We lost most of our savings trusting her!” Then she flipped to the next page. “Oh, look! There’s a sale on teakettles at—”

Ammy: [Goes to finish her sentence for her:]

“Woman!” Mr. De La Crème said through clenched teeth. “You still have a brand-new unused kettle on the stove! And you don’t even drink tea because you say the leaves are dried-up and stale.”

Ammy: [looks offended!]
Perry: [plays this clip:]

Mrs. De La Crème stared at him. “Tookie, make me some tea.”

Ammy: [pulls up this clip:]

Perry: [glances around then plays this clip:]

Tookie flinched. “B-b-but Creamy, you d-d-don’t like—”

“D-d-duh,” Mrs. De La Crème imitated nastily. “Spit it out!”

Tookie glanced at the floor. For as long as she could remember, the sight and sound of her mother had caused her heart to flutter, her palms to sweat, and her tongue to stammer. Mrs. De La Crème dragged Tookie to every speech pathologist in LaDorno, but the mother-specific stammer could not be cured.

Ammy: [pulls up a clip...has she tried this one?]

Mrs. De La Crème rolled her eyes, exasperated. “What did I say, Tookie? Make. Me. Some. Tea. Now.”

Ammy: [winces and pulls up another picture:]

Tookie shrugged and took the tape off the teakettle’s spout. She placed it under the gushing tap, filled it, and placed it on the stove. Suddenly, a tiny yellowish bubble spewed out of the running faucet. This wasn’t unusual; off-color water was a common sight in the De La Crème household because of the home’s broken water filters.

Tookie scampered to the cabinet, snatched a mug, and dropped a bag of mint tea into it. Moments later, she ran back to the boiling kettle and relieved it of its howling. She poured the scalding water over the bag and handed the brew to her mother, who scowled at the cup.

Perry: [plays this song:]

Mrs. De La Crème defiantly looked over to her husband, then brought the cup to her nose.

“Smelling is not enough, Creamy,” Mr. De La Crème taunted. “Drink it.”

Perry: [starts this clip]
Chibi: [holds up a screenshot this time:]

Tookie turned back to the tap. The small yellow bubble began to expand, filling half of the kitchen sink. Then it changed color, from spicy red to soothing blue to emerald-green and, finally, to a plethora of yellows. It was strangely beautiful. Tookie carefully picked up the bubble with her hands. And then, before her eyes, the bubble flattened itself and transformed into cellophane-thin, golden cat’s-eye sunglasses without the frames.

Ammy: [pulls up a clip:]

Perry: [He had something similar in mind:]

Chibi: [had a similar idea as well:]

“Oh!” Myrracle screamed, staring at Tookie. “Look!”

Mrs. De La Crème noticed it too, and dropped the teacup from her hand. It crashed to the floor.

Perry: [He plays this clip now:]

“Is it...could it be?”

“Our ship has come in!” Mr. De La Crème exclaimed.

Ammy: [pulls up a clip:]

Tookie looked from her sister, Myrracle, to the true miracle that had taken shape in her hands.

Chibi: [cues up this clip:]

Perry: [plays this clip of music:]

Ammy: [stands up, stretches, and yawns...does this mean they’re done now?]
Perry: [nods. he then pulls out one last picture:] [You guys want?]
Ammy: [Nods with excitement. That sounds real good!]
Chibi: [Barks and nods quickly. All that talk of bananas made him hungry.]