Ch. 10: Oh, You've Got to be Kidding Me, Part 2Prom was certainly an event. Anastasia was in a terrible mood by the end of the night. She got in a fight, was refused a dance by her crush, barreled through the backdrop, and had a slew of other disastrous events. However, Drusilla was prom queen and she acquired herself a boyfriend by the end of the night. This is Peter Crosby. I'm assuming he's the son of Odin and Heather Crosby, but Odin is dead now and Heather is a vampire, so who knows what's going on.
Not that this should surprise anyone, but Drusilla and Anastasia decide that they're not going to be home before curfew. What does this result in? The cops, of course. Mr. Policeman does not look happy.
He brings them home, and the girls are pretty worried about the repercussions of their actions. At least Drusilla seems to be worried.
At this time, Belle has already gone to bed, so Aurora takes a break from her sprinklers to ground the two of them. So much for the perfect prom. I guess that's what they get for sabotaging Cinderella's prom. Then again, it seems that it's just Anastasia who's being the wild child. Drusilla is just along for the ride.
Morning arrives and Aurora fills Belle in on what happened last night. Belle also tells Aurora about her talk with Cinderella. The two agree to have a talk with the girls.
They head upstairs and first call in Drusilla and Anastasia. They think they're going to be yelled at about prom night.
Before Belle or Aurora get to talk, Anastasia bursts in.
Anastasia: What's all this about?!
Aurora: Don't use that tone, Anastasia.
Anastasia: I'll use whatever tone I want. Why did you ground me?! I had an absolutely terrible night at prom. Did you know that my crush rejected
me? Me! And I didn't even win prom queen, hmph.
Belle: Right now, I don't really care what happened at your prom. If you insist to talk about it, we will. But you will be punished even more for every sentence you utter about yourself.
Drusilla: Now that's not fair! I mean, she really did have a bad night. She actually fell through the photo backdrop *snort* while she was chasing after her crush, bahahaah!
Aurora: Drusilla, I advise you to be quiet. There is something else that your mother and I would like to discuss.
Belle: It involves Cinderella.
Anastasia: It always involves Cinderella...
Belle: Now why would you think that?
Anastasia: It's always about her! She gets to hang out with you and Dad in the art room all day, and you just fawn over her all the time. You have to get her ice sculptures just right, and Dad doesn't even paint us!
Drusilla: And you guys make us go around messing with all the sinks and radios and tv's and everything just because you're too cheap to hire a repairman!
Aurora: Do you enjoy tinkering with the appliances?
Drusilla: No!
Anastasia: No...
Aurora: Then don't do it. We're not forcing you. It's just a suggestion of how to spend your days. I tend my garden, your mother sculpts, and your father has a job.
Belle: And Drusilla, you know it's not that we're "too cheap" to hire a repairman. You two live very lavish lives, and you know we will hire a repairman if you don't want to fix any of our failing plumbing and electronics.
Anastasia & Drusilla: *grumble, grumble*
Belle: However, we didn't ask you here to talk to you about your handiness skills.
Aurora: We know that you both have some problems with your sister, Cinderella. We want to know why.
Anastasia: She's just so stuck up, and she always gloats about how much better she does in school.
Drusilla: And she brags about what great
paintings she makes. They're terrible in my opinion.
Aurora: Girls, you know that's not true.
Belle: I think if you'd ask Cinderella, she would say that you two are the ones who are terrible.
Anastasia: Of course she would! She's little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes!
Drusilla: Hah! That was pretty dumb of you to say. She's terrible because she's so good. *snort*
Aurora: This clearly isn't going anywhere.
Belle: Look! You two need to smarten up! You've been out of control lately. Anastasia, you fight with Cinderella on almost a constant basis. Drusilla, you set booby traps all over this house! We're going to tell you something right now, and you're not going to like it, but you're going to deal with it like civilized ladies.
Aurora: I'm immortal.
Belle: I am too and so is Cinderella.
Anastasia: Yeah, whatever.
Aurora: We are all going to outlive the two of you. Eventually, your urns will sit in the basement while we wander around this home.
Drusilla: Prove it.
Aurora: I'm not dead. How's that for proof?
The girls fall silent.
Belle: Maybe you should come in now, Cinderella.
Aurora: We're going to leave you, now. The three of you can sort this out on your own. We'll be back in a few minutes.
Anastasia: Is it true? Is everybody really immortal except for us?
Cinderella: Yep. It's this thing called Ambrosia. It's supposed to keep you from dying. Grandma knows how to cook it, and she's bound by some unknown force to keep consuming it and for the firstborn of the next 7 generations to consume it as well.
Anastasia: Is that why you
get all the attention?
Cinderella: There are requirements that need to be met before I can eat Ambrosia. Filling the new museum in the basement is part of that requirement.
Drusilla: But that's not fair! How come we don't get to do that?
Cinderella: Look, I don't know. I barely got the first part of this conversation memorized before Mom called me in!
Anastasia: Then I'll eat it!
Drusilla: Me too!
Cinderella: No, you can't!
Anastasia: And why not?
Cinderella: Because... then we all die.
Drusilla: I don't believe it.
Cinderella: So don't. If you're so certain that we'll all live through it, eat Ambrosia. Grandma has a bunch of it stored on the Food Replicator in the kitchen. And I certainly won't stop you. I don't want to live forever.
Anastasia: Yeah, right. Why wouldn't you want to live forever?
Cinderella: You know how a painter's works are worth more after they die?
Drusilla: Oh, don't try to tell us that when you die anything you touch will be worth so much money just because you think you're so good at painting!
Cinderella: You don't get it! If I'm not going to die, then my paintings won't be worth anything! I don't want to be as old as Grandma. I want to die young and make everybody think "Wow, she died so young. There's so little in this world that she took part in." That way, maybe--just maybe--they'll assume I was a good person who didn't deserve the death and people will actually like me. But if I'm alive, everyone is just going to resent me for outliving them.
Anastasia: You can't possibly feel like that. It's just your little cry for attention. As if you don't already get enough of it.
Cinderella: Well, I do feel like that. You two make me feel so terrible. Why do you think I avoid you all the time?
Drusilla: ...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel so bad. I was just jealous at all the attention you were getting from everyone.
Cinderella: It's... it's okay, I guess.
Anastasia: Don't expect an apology from me! I haven't done anything wrong.
Cinderella: Fine. I'm outta here. Thank you for the apology Drusilla.
Drusilla: Way to go, sis
.
Anastasia: Shut up. I don't need to hear this from you.
Drusilla: No, maybe you do! You're the one who's always fighting with Cinderella. You're the one who hates her. I just liked you better so I sided with you. Now I'm starting to think I made the wrong choice. Cinderella doesn't want to live forever. Don't hate her because she has to.
Anastasia: You. Out of my face. Now.
Drusilla: And now you're turning on me?! You have some serious problems, Anastasia. When you work them out, I'll think about talking to you again.
Author's Note: Okay, this blew up way bigger than I expected. I just took a bunch of pictures and then a story just kind of came out with them. And this wasn't even my original idea! That idea was blown the day of prom, haha. I think it turned out alright, though. A bit more dramatic than I wanted, but hey, I'll play in that ballpark. Next time... well, something is going to happen. It will involve pictures and, uhm, something that I make up right on the spot?
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