Spitefic: Reality Bitchslap
Jan. 25th, 2011 01:49 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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twispiteficTitle: Reality Bitchslap
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
das_mervin
Fandom(s): Twilight
Rating: PG
Word Count: 560
Inspiration: Written in response to Bella saying that what Charlie knows about her life is actually her business, not Charlie’s or anybody else’s, in chapter twelve.
Warnings: Just a little language.
Summary: I am Das Mervin, and I am NOT amused.
Bella heard the door swing open again, and jumped when it slammed forcefully shut. She was even more startled to see not Jacob walking around the corner like she assumed it would be, but a wet, dumpy, blonde-haired girl wearing a Hoosiers shirt, dirty jeans, and a sour expression, a cigarette jutting from between her pursed lips.
Bella opened her mouth to demand just who the hell she was and what gave her the right to walk into her house uninvited, but the stranger spoke first. “My name is Señorita Bitchslap and you just pushed my button, hobag,” she growled, pointing at Bella and stomping over to stand directly in front of her.
Bella blinked, her anger almost being pushed aside by complete bafflement. “What?” she managed, almost unable to comprehend this strange scene.
She yelped when she was suddenly slapped right across the face. It didn’t hurt very badly—just a sting—but the idea of a stranger waltzing into her house and slapping her was too much to take.
“Get out of my house—!” she started, but was slapped again before she could finish.
“It’s your business, huh? You get to decide what Charlie gets to know about your life and what he doesn’t?” the girl suddenly snarled, ashing all over the kitchen tile.
Bella glared. “Were you spying on me?!” she demanded, rubbing her cheek—so the girl popped the other one instead.
“If that jackhole vampire of yours can, so can I. Your windows are open to all, lickspittle!” the girl crowed. But then she poked Bella forcefully in the chest with one finger. “So come on—what makes you think you get to decide what Charlie knows and what doesn’t?”
“Because I’m mature enough already!” Bella finally said. “Charlie wouldn’t understand this situation anyway, and—” Bella nearly screamed in frustration when she was pimp-slapped again.
“Don’t you cite that mature bullshit at me, missy, you’re seventeen and stupid,” she said.
“I am not!” Bella shrilled. “I am old enough to make decisions now—”
“Charlie is your father, you dependent, non-emancipated minor!” the girl interrupted again (with another slap, this one harder). “You spend his money, you sleep in his house, you eat food he buys, you go to school on his bill! You drive a truck that he bought for you, you put gas in it that he buys for you, you are on his insurance that he pays for!”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not mature enough to—”
Bella found herself slapped again. “You shut up, asswipe!” the stranger shouted. “He’s your father, you’re a dependent, you live under his rules! He has a right to know about your precious vampire boyfriend! He breaks into the fucking house every night! And considering the house is, as we all know, Charlie’s damn house, he damn well has a right to know he’s your boyfriend!”
Bella shrieked as the woman slapped her repeatedly and in rapid succession. “You are his goddamned teenage daughter and he will decide what of yours is his business and what isn’t, you ungrateful little pissant,” she hissed, dropping her cigarette and grinding it out with her heel. And, abruptly, she spun around and began storming right back out the way she came, pausing only to slap Billy as well. “And that’s for not pointing that out yourself!”
Author:
das_mervinFandom(s): Twilight
Rating: PG
Word Count: 560
Inspiration: Written in response to Bella saying that what Charlie knows about her life is actually her business, not Charlie’s or anybody else’s, in chapter twelve.
Warnings: Just a little language.
Summary: I am Das Mervin, and I am NOT amused.
Bella heard the door swing open again, and jumped when it slammed forcefully shut. She was even more startled to see not Jacob walking around the corner like she assumed it would be, but a wet, dumpy, blonde-haired girl wearing a Hoosiers shirt, dirty jeans, and a sour expression, a cigarette jutting from between her pursed lips.
Bella opened her mouth to demand just who the hell she was and what gave her the right to walk into her house uninvited, but the stranger spoke first. “My name is Señorita Bitchslap and you just pushed my button, hobag,” she growled, pointing at Bella and stomping over to stand directly in front of her.
Bella blinked, her anger almost being pushed aside by complete bafflement. “What?” she managed, almost unable to comprehend this strange scene.
She yelped when she was suddenly slapped right across the face. It didn’t hurt very badly—just a sting—but the idea of a stranger waltzing into her house and slapping her was too much to take.
“Get out of my house—!” she started, but was slapped again before she could finish.
“It’s your business, huh? You get to decide what Charlie gets to know about your life and what he doesn’t?” the girl suddenly snarled, ashing all over the kitchen tile.
Bella glared. “Were you spying on me?!” she demanded, rubbing her cheek—so the girl popped the other one instead.
“If that jackhole vampire of yours can, so can I. Your windows are open to all, lickspittle!” the girl crowed. But then she poked Bella forcefully in the chest with one finger. “So come on—what makes you think you get to decide what Charlie knows and what doesn’t?”
“Because I’m mature enough already!” Bella finally said. “Charlie wouldn’t understand this situation anyway, and—” Bella nearly screamed in frustration when she was pimp-slapped again.
“Don’t you cite that mature bullshit at me, missy, you’re seventeen and stupid,” she said.
“I am not!” Bella shrilled. “I am old enough to make decisions now—”
“Charlie is your father, you dependent, non-emancipated minor!” the girl interrupted again (with another slap, this one harder). “You spend his money, you sleep in his house, you eat food he buys, you go to school on his bill! You drive a truck that he bought for you, you put gas in it that he buys for you, you are on his insurance that he pays for!”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not mature enough to—”
Bella found herself slapped again. “You shut up, asswipe!” the stranger shouted. “He’s your father, you’re a dependent, you live under his rules! He has a right to know about your precious vampire boyfriend! He breaks into the fucking house every night! And considering the house is, as we all know, Charlie’s damn house, he damn well has a right to know he’s your boyfriend!”
Bella shrieked as the woman slapped her repeatedly and in rapid succession. “You are his goddamned teenage daughter and he will decide what of yours is his business and what isn’t, you ungrateful little pissant,” she hissed, dropping her cigarette and grinding it out with her heel. And, abruptly, she spun around and began storming right back out the way she came, pausing only to slap Billy as well. “And that’s for not pointing that out yourself!”
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