Madame Mervin, Hammer of Sues (das_mervin) wrote,
Madame Mervin, Hammer of Sues

Eclipse: Chapter 27-Acknowledgements

Sands: *relaxing, his feet kicked up on a table, eating some grapes*

Mervin: *stone-faced and massaging his shoulders*

Sands: You know, I was prepared to tell you how much you suck at this, but you actually aren’t half-bad—so you can just keep doing that.

Mervin: *through gritted teeth* The chapter’s about to start. I will need to leave.

Sands: Oh? And why is that? *smirk*

Mervin: *sigh* Because I’m a weakling who needs Sands to come save my ass.

Sands: How true—and stop digging your thumbs into my neck like that. *waves lazily* You may leave.

Mervin: *stomps off, already turning into Mervzilla and feeling a good scream of frustration building*

Sands: *pleasantly* Where were we?

Chapter 27 – Needs

Uh-huh. I have ‘em. In fact, I’m having a need right now. *stands up and pees on the books*

So, Bella drives a little bit before she decides now’s a good time to do her favorite pastime—falling over and flopping around, hoping that some Big Strong Man will come pick her up. Naturally, she got past the territory border, so it’s not long before Ed shows up, having been informed of Bella’s location by Alice who randomly Saw her coming. Mission accomplished. The Big Strong Man part, anyway. She’s whining that she wants two Big Strong Men comforting her.

Then she starts bawling Charlie’s name. Don’t get your hopes up that she’s thinking about him for once—she’s only thinking about “[getting] past” him. As usual. Ed drives her home, and she describes lying to Charlie in flowery prose, talking about her paaaaaaaaaaain, but the minute she goes inside to try and get past Charlie, the prose has a complete breakdown as “his eyes bugged wide”. He at first thinks Jerkoff died or something, but she says he’s fine, and THEN he wants to know how Bella is, and when she says that she talked to him about relationships, Charlie gets all disapproving and scolds her. Rapists before hos, after all. Or something like that.

So, she quickly gets away from Charlie, who doesn’t even try to comfort her because “nothing scared Charlie worse than tears”. I think Meyer is cheating with regards to Bella abandoning her family in favor of vampirism—she’s just making Charlie not care so the break will be super-easy. She gets upstairs and immediately starts trying to take off the bracelet with the wolf charm on it, but Ed is there in an instant and says “No, Bella…It’s part of who you are.” That, and he’s going to forever enjoy looking at the diamond he put next to it and be smug in the knowledge that he won.

And so she spends the entire night crying, going into hysterics, screaming, wailing, and tops it all off by talking about those goddamned fucking shitty magnets. Thanks.

Ed mostly just sits there, because he’s useless, and she apparently “[stains his shirt] with salt water”. Saying the word “tears” is too boring. Bella whines about how she’s always going to be in mourning for never getting to have sex with Jerkoff, and how she only wants him to heal.


*snarling* WOULD YOU QUIT THAT?! *smoothes his hair and lights up a cigarette* Bitch.

So, a page later, and Bella’s fine in the morning and says she’ll never do that again because, obviously, Wardo does not like it. So, as he’s enjoying doing his victory dance and sticking a knife up under his Twoo Wuv’s ribs, he starts asking over and over and over again for her to confirm that he’s definitely the right choice, all while operating under the guise that he’s only worried about her feelings. Bella says this: “You may be brave enough or strong enough to live without me, if that’s what’s best. But I could never be that self-sacrificing. I have to be with you. It’s the only way I can live.

Excuse me, Bella. You were the one who (ostensibly) did NOT try commit suicide in New Moon. Although I do agree about the self-sacrificing bit. You can’t do that about ANYTHING.

Meyer suddenly remembers she is supposed to be making a literary comparison in this one, so Bella, also showing off how literary SHE is, quotes Wuthering Heights: “‘If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.’” Ed quotes it right back at her (and Bella helpfully supplies that he’s so perfect he doesn’t need the book to quote it): “‘I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!’

Meyer, that book is not romance, you know.

Suddenly, we’re on our way to see Alice. I DON’T WANT TO READ ABOUT THAT BITCH ALICE.

New scene. And Alice kicks it off by being as annoying as ever. Meyer really needs to learn that there is indeed a Perky Threshold, and Alice passed it a long time ago. Alice says that she has already foreseen the rules of her arranging Bella’s wedding: “I know, I know, I know. I only have until August thirteenth at the latest, you have veto power on the guest list, and if I go overboard on anything, you’ll never speak to me again.” Bella puts on the selfless act, saying that she’s just gonna go along with “whatever makes her happy”. Woman, it’s your fucking wedding. Alice is not the one getting married—you seem to be completely unaware of this fact. Eh, Mervin already outlined the truth on these wedding shenanigans, how this is just Meyer getting her frilly wedding with all expenses paid and no planning on her part while still being supposedly selfless about it. I’m gonna ignore it.

Alice says she’s got the dress already, made by designer Perrine Bruyere. Mervin, pause your rampaging to deliver a few Google-Fu facts about this individual.

Mervin: *comes back in, shaking a roof off of her foot* He’s fake. Apparently, Meyer could not find a designer expensive enough or elaborate enough to suit her, so she just made one up. French, naturally. *leaves and jumps back into Tokyo*

Sands: And there you have it. I’m so hurt—she left without complimenting me.

Anyway, Alice is also making it clear that she got this thing way, way before it was even confirmed she’d be planning the wedding at all. I hate that bitch.

Alice kicks Ed out, because he’s not allowed to see the dress, and they head into her closet, “which was bigger than [Bella’s] room”. *rubs forehead* I don’t think I can take much more of this hose beast. She brings out the dress, and, just like always, guess who was in her mind while she made the dress? Hint: it wasn’t Bella. Yep, it’s 1918 vintage, and they both agree that “it’s just right for him”. Well, I’m sure Ed will look great in that dress, walkin’ down the aisle on Carlisle’s arm.

There is a stupid exchange wherein Bella asks Alice to be her bridesmaid, and she runs off afterwards telling Bella to “go play with Edward”. She would, but he’s gay. Ed nods his approval of Bella giving Alice her way, and it sounds like he’s patting a dog on the head. Ed wants to go to the Meadow of Great Sparkling, and a few sentences later, they are there. Meyer’s editor was apparently skimming by this point. So am I, really.

Ed wants to know why August 13th is so important to her. She says that’s a month before her birthday, because she “doesn’t want to cut it too close”. To the over-the-hill age of nineteen, apparently. Ed points out that Esme, physical agewise, is actually older than Carlisle, so it makes no difference to their relationship. After Bella bitches about it, she says this.

My voice was serene, a counterpoint to his anxiety. "My age is not really that important. Edward, I'm ready. I've chosen my life—now I want to start living it."

*opens his mouth to talk, but is rudely interrupted*

Mervin: *bursts in, still in Mervin the Destroyer form, whirling like a tornado and waving snakes and beating her wings furiously as she roars*


*spins away, leaving a huge expanse of charred ground behind her*

Sands: *thin mouth* Goddammit. *brushes ash out of his hair* She tells me to take over, and then butts in all the time when she’s not asked to.

He then asks why she wants to veto some of the guests—it’s mostly because she thinks “Alice would feel the need to invite… a few werewolves”. WHY? They hate werewolves, and they never give two shits about your happiness! Bella blathers on about how she doesn’t want to invite Jerkoff because it might hurt his feelings. Ed then places Bella on top of him and wants to know why she gave “Alice free reign”. My tape alerted me to how she spelled that word. Hey, Meyer. The phrase is not “free reign”. It’s “free rein”. If you weren’t too busy bouncing up and down on the Vamp while writing about Ed’s endless beauty, you might’ve realized that.

Bella’s response is to be selfless (after summing up everything that she’d been bitching about in the last chapter—you know, Charlie not wanting her to just vanish—in one single, badly-written sentence, of course).

"It wouldn't be fair to keep Charlie out of this," I concluded. "And that means Renée and Phil. I might as well let Alice have her fun, too. Maybe it will make the whole thing easier for Charlie if he gets his proper goodbye. Even if he thinks it's much too early, I wouldn't want to cheat him out of the chance to walk me down the aisle." I grimaced at the words, then took another deep breath. "At least my mom and dad and my friends will know the best part of my choice, the most I'm allowed to tell them. They'll know I chose you, and they'll know we're together. They'll know I'm happy, wherever I am. I think that's the best I can do for them."

Bella? I don’t think it is going to give your father any pleasure at all to have to give you away to a guy he hates. And if this weren’t Meyerland, I’d insinuate that she needs to stop pompously declaring that of course the whole world wants to know about her relationship with Ed. She is seriously talking of this like some famous star deciding to get married and rolling around in the publicity she’s gonna get from it.

And then, after Ed delivers the very telling line of, “I don’t care about anyone else’s feelings,” he declares that they are going to change her into a vampire tonight and that they are going to have sex in the meadow immediately.

I am so not joking. It really did come on that suddenly. Of course, he subtly and immediately asserts his dominance again by removing her from on top and pinning her on the ground. How nice. After five seconds of extremely dispassionate and mild kissing, Bella puts an immediate stop to that, saying she doesn’t want to. Because he is stronger than her, he completely ignores her. She then succeeds in pissing me off more than she has thus far with this: “He pulled back a few inches to look at me, and his eyes did nothing to help my resolve. They were black fire. They smoldered.

*smashes the butt of his gun against the back of her head*

So, after she begs enough, Wardo decides that he’s satisfied with her begging and asks why she doesn’t want to screw in the middle of a meadow so anybody could walk over and see them. She says she wants “to do this right”, and when he asks “who’s definition of right”, she replies her own.

He rolled onto his elbow and stared at me, his expression disapproving.

"How are you going to do this right?"

I took a deep breath. "Responsibly. Everything in the right order. I will not leave Charlie and Renée without the best resolution I can give them. I won't deny Alice her fun, if I'm having a wedding anyway. And I will tie myself to you in every human way, before I ask you to make me immortal. I'm following all the rules, Edward. Your soul is far, far too important to me to take chances with. You're not going to budge me on this."

One, it’s very, very telling that Ed immediately gets disapproving and pissy when she says she’s doing something her way.

Two, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that her way is Ed’s way, even though it totally wasn’t before, and she has still expressed dislike of the marriage idea. I’m sure that’s just showing how in tune and like-minded they are.

Three, how is deciding you want to be with a guy forever and becoming resolved that you want to abandon your family and friends and everything else in order to be immortal and beautiful in seventeen days responsible, no matter what you do to get there?

Ed’s response to her saying she will not be moved is to threaten to do just that. Okay, this is the third guy who has threatened or performed some form of rape upon her. Meyer has issues. Bella once again goes battered woman and convinces herself that of course Ed wouldn’t do that, he’s just too nice for that.

It starts raining, and Bella “glowered at the sky”. I’m sure the sky is glowering right back. Ed says he’s gonna take her home, and she says that it’s time to go do something “unpleasant” and “dangerous”, that being to go tell Charlie that they are gonna get married. Ed’s got the ring with him at all times like a security blanket, apparently, pulls it out, and immediately puts it onto Bella’s finger. “Where it would stay—conceivably for the rest of eternity.

Meyer, did you really have to end the body work of this novel with such a ridiculously cheesy and totally Mormon line that makes me wanna puke? *snaps fingers* Mervin?

Mervin: *gritting her teeth* How about I just summon your company for the last two pieces before we are completely finished? ket_makura, bring yourself and some rice in here, and gear up.

A few hours after the sporking room is stocked…

Ket: *in between bites of rice* …so anyway, this grey, demon-looking thing with leathery wings is fucking Edward in the ass. Not like gentle sex, but the kind of plowing where you’d expect a hubcap to roll out. And Edward wants it because it makes him not think of Bella.

Sands: You have officially intrigued me now. Was this thing sapient? You know—could it think? Or is this total bestiality?

Ket: Oh, yeah, it could think, talk. Apparently read minds, too, because it knew Edward was thinking about Bella and it was totally cockblocked by hearing it.

Sands: Oh, burn. What did Ed do? Surely he didn’t apologize.

Ket: Oh, hell no. Threatened him with the “fiery lashes of Saint Clair herself”, whatever that means.

Sands: Well, that sounds like Ed to me—threatening to beat someone for something that’s his fault. Did this ever get a resolution?

Ket: No. Just some mention of a weird ritual, then my alarm went off. I never found out what “Can you support yourself just through work” was all about.

Sands: He wasn’t even willing to give some of his untold billions to the bat-thing? What a selfish—wait, here comes Mervin.

Mervin: *plods in, wrapped in a towel, soaking wet, covered in seaweed* Hey, Ket—sorry for my rather, erm, unprofessional attire. I’ve been raging so much I’m not even bothering wearing clothes. I just tear through them.

Ket: *waves with her fork* I understand your rage. I was just telling Sands about the insane Twilight dream I had.

Mervin: Ah, yes, that one. Anyway—

Sands: And I don’t get a hello? *smirks*

Mervin: *gritting her teeth* Hello, Agent Sands, he who is of infinite beauty and causes the spontaneous orgasms of thousands of women everywhere, he upon whom I depend on to save my ass because I am lazy.

Ket: …damn, I don’t think I can eat my rice now.

Mervin: Well, blame him for that. *growls* ANYWAY. Thanks for coming in and sporking in my stead. It’s just the epilogue and the acknowledgements—which isn’t much better than the rest, ‘cause the former is from the POV of the date rapist and the latter is from the POV of the author.

Ket: No problem, Merv. I’ve had an epically fucktastic work schedule the last few weeks. I need a place to vent my rage.

Mervin: Well, feel free to vent it on that pig as much as you want—and no, I don't care if you vent it at Jerkoff or at S—

Sands: Ah ah ah! *waggles a finger*

Mervin: —Sssstephenie Meyer.

Ket: Just so you know, Sands, I don’t have to kiss your ass.

Sands: *loftily* To quote a great film—but she does. And that’s the whole point of it.

Ket: *rolls eyes* Let’s get down to it.

Epilogue: Choice

Sands: A concept that is completely foreign to one Stephenie Meyer.

Ket: Not my choice, that’s for damn sure.


Sands: —is a dickweed.

Ket: Bastard child of Sirius and a border collie…

Sands: Sirius Black had sex with a dog, and Jerkoff’s mother was that very dog.

Ket: Somewhere, there is fanfiction.

Sands: Rule 34! We have cursed it into existence.

“Jacob, do you think this is going to take too much longer?” Leah demanded.

Sands: Strap in, honey. The next book is eight-hundred pages.

Ket: (Leah): My ass is falling asleep. Hurry the hell up.

Impatient. Whiney. My teeth clenched together.

Sands: I don’t get it. Bella is ten times whinier than Leah is, and for reasons that are less valid, but somehow, he is madly in love with her and thinks she has no flaws.

Ket: Yes, but Leah is not the teenage dream version of the author. Bella is.

Sands: Oh, and Merv asked me to check—how did she spell “whiny”?

Ket: W-h-i-n-e-y.

Sands: Huh. Uh, why? The “e” isn’t necessary. I guess Meyer thought it looked prettier.

Ket: More importantly, why didn’t her poor editor catch it?

Sands: I think the key word in your question—which in turn actually answered it—is “poor”.

Like anyone in the pack, Leah knew everything.

Sands: Well, that’s a rather broad statement.

Ket: Umm…am I crazy, or does it more seem like the characters in this book really know fuckall the majority of the time?

Sands: Meyer is of the opinion that if she tells us how smart her characters are, we’ll believe it—because, after all, she obviously does, she’s told herself that so much. I have to wonder if this works both ways—perhaps if I tell her to suck my dick enough times, she will.

Ket: I don’t want that woman anywhere near my important bits.

Sands: You have a dick? *intrigued*

Ket: Yeah. I keep it in my sock drawer.

She knew why I came here—to the very edge of the earth and sky and sea. To be alone. She knew that this was all I wanted. Just to be alone.

Sands: How did she know that? I thought they only knew each others’ thoughts when in wolf form. Jerkoff’s been human this entire time, due to his injuries. And I’d imagine she doesn’t like being in wolf form much. So—care to explain, Meyer? Or are you too busy jacking off with the corner of one of your own books?

Ket: I would hope beyond hope it’s because he told her to fuck off and leave him alone…

But Leah was going to force her company on me, anyway.

Sands: Let’s hope she also forces herself on him, right up the butt, and then tells him that he was just playing coy and that he obviously wanted it.

Ket: Okay, that I might actually be interested to read, but again, Meyer…

Sands: If only she were a huge, leathery bat-thing.

Ket: Heh. Bend over, Jerkoff.

Besides being crazy annoyed,

Sands: —he was also sad elated and pissed nauseated.

Ket: Happy flatulent.

I did feel smug for a brief second.

Sands: *incredulously* A brief second?! Listen, bastard, I’ve been read this series—you have been nothing but smug for this entire fucking book!

Because I didn’t even have to think about controlling my temper. It was easy now, something I just did, natural. The red haze didn’t wash over my eyes. The heat didn’t shiver down my spine. My voice was calm when I answered.

Sands: *points* I maintain that that entire paragraph could be put into a scene from Bella Bitch’s POV, and you wouldn’t know the difference.

Ket: I’m not arguing with you.

Sands: The fans will, though—they like to talk about how unique and fleshed-out all of the characters are. Even though you can’t tell the difference between one or the other. It’s a good thing Meyer indicated it’s Jerkoff’s POV at the first, otherwise, I doubt anybody would know.

Ket: The fans are twelve or morons. They can argue all they want.

“Jump off a cliff, Leah.” I pointed to the one at my feet.

Sands: *flatly* Thanks, Meyer. We needed a visual.

Ket: I thought you wanted to be alone, dipshit. Just push her.

Sands: Leah would kick his ass. She’s the only female who has half a spine—which is more than all the guys in this story have—and none of them can handle the fact that she has bigger balls than any of them. That’s why they shit on her all the time.

Ket: Fine, she can push him. Whatever ends this faster.

“Really, kid.” She ignored me, throwing herself into a sprawl on the ground next to me. “You have no idea how hard this is for me.”

Sands: (Leah): I mean, seriously—check this picture out. He was so hard for me that day.

Ket: Oh no, eek, unholy premarital sex!

“For you?” It took me a minute to believe she was serious. “You have to be the most self-absorbed person alive, Leah.

Sands: Oh, but you, the date rapist who assaults Bella repeatedly and tries to break her heart just so you can get naked with her, are somehow not? To say nothing of the little bitch herself, who does nothing but think of how something can possibly benefit her. I know selfish when I hear it. You know, takes one to know one.

Ket: At least you’re a self-aware asshole, Sands.

Sands: I may be a lot of things, but pretentiousness and pedophilia are where I draw the line—and lucky me, these people do BOTH.

Ket: Lucky both of us. Where’s vodka when you need it?

Sands: Oh, allow me. *lazily claps his hands* Room service?

Mervin: *appears, still on fire from her rampaging, and angrily slams his tequila and pibil down—but nicely gives Ket her vodka before disappearing again*

Sands: You can thank me later, Ket.

Ket: I will give you a nice verbal “thank you” before I peace the fuck out.

I’d hate to shatter the dream world you live in—the one where the sun is orbiting the place where you stand—

Sands: Yeah! Everybody knows that the sun and everything else orbit around Bella! Who do you think you are, Leah, trying to horn in on that spot?

Ket: Oh, for the love of hell. Move over, I’m going to push them BOTH off the damn cliff!

so I won’t tell you how little I care what your problem is. Go. Away.

Sands: *raises hand* Question. She knows he came here to be alone, how come he doesn’t know what her problem is?

Ket: Plothole. Don’t step in ‘em, they’re nasty.

“Just look at this from my perspective for a minute, okay?” she continued as if I hadn’t said anything.

Sands: That is impossible. None of them do

If she was trying to break my mood, it worked. I started laughing.

Sands: See?

Ket: *banging her head on her chair* Shut uuuup, and get on to the damn point.

Sands: Meyer’s padding this like she would a bra, and she doesn’t stop until she’s reached the E range. You’d best get comfortable.

Ket: *slumps down and cradles her vodka*

The sound hurt in strange ways. “Stop snorting and pay attention,” she snapped.

“If I pretend to listen, will you leave?” I asked,

Sands: Psh. She’s a character in Meyer’s novel, babe. You can pretend or not pretend—Meyer will talk and talk and talk whether you are listening or not.

Ket: Oh, boy. I have a feeling this is going to lead to being raped in the ear.

glancing over at the permanent scowl on her face. I wasn’t sure if she had any other expressions anymore.

Sands: I can sympathize. Really, I think Mervin can, too.

Ket: I would be too, but it’s hard to scowl around the neck of a bottle. *skulling vodka*

I remembered back to when I used to think that Leah was pretty, maybe even beautiful. That was a long time ago. No one thought of her that way now.

Sands: Ah, wonderful. More of Meyer’s emphasis on physical beauty. She’s trying to say she’s no longer pretty because she’s now angry and bitter, but, really, we heard all about how Bella described her as this drop dead gorgeous girl—Meyer just wants her to be a Scary Sue, so she’s making sure nobody thinks she’s pretty now. That, and if making nobody think of her as pretty is the best she can do…

Ket: It’s a very childish thing to do—make all of your good characters beautiful, and only bad ones are ever ugly. I can understand it with the vampires, maybe, but with the entire goddamn cast?

Sands: Hey—even Meyer admits she’s stuck at age fifteen. You are preaching to the choir.

Except for Sam. He was never going to forgive himself. Like it was his fault that she’d turned into this bitter harpy.

Sands: Of course it isn’t his fault. I mean, why blame the guy who had no choice in the matter when we’ve got his little subservient wife who did, and when we’ve got the entire rest of the pack that does little but bitch at her for being weak and pathetic and having ovaries and for not being sooooo happy that her fiancé is now boning the girl who she thought of as a sister and, as their minds basically meld when they are in wolf form, now she gets to see them doing said boning?

Ket: Selfish twat. How dare she!

Her scowl heated up, as if she could guess what I was thinking. Probably could.

Sands: See above.

“This is making me sick, Jacob.

Sands: And Leah speaks for the audience.

Ket: I almost kinda like her now.

Sands: She’s a classic Scary Sue, babe. They annoy the hell out of you—but damn if they don’t speak sense sometimes.

Can you imagine what this feels like to me? I don’t even like Bella Swan.

Sands: Now I really like her!

Ket: Anyone who hates Bella is a friend of mine!

And you’ve got me grieving over this leech-lover like I’m in love with her, too. Can you see where that might be a little confusing? I dreamed about kissing her last night!

Sands: I shall ignore the question of how she did that when they are only mind melded when in wolf form and the fact that a seventeen-year-old boy is having perfectly chaste kissing dreams about the girl he is always talking about wanting to get naked with and merely cheer on some girl-on-girl action.

Ket: I am in agreement. Bring on the lesbians!

What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

Sands: Act it out in real life or at least describe it in great detail so the rest of the population can enjoy it, perhaps?

Ket: Kill both Wardo and Jerkoff and run into the sunset with her for some hot, hot hatesex?

“Do I care?”

Sands: …um, do you? That’s not the phrase you are looking for, Meyer.

Ket: Maybe he’s not sure. Since everyone can read each other’s minds in this shit, he might just be hoping for her to pull the answer out of his brain.

“I can’t stand being in your head anymore!

Sands: Neither can I, because it sounds exactly like Bella’s.

Ket: Why does the 17-year-old boy sound like a spoiled little girl?

Sands: Because everyone in these books sounds like a spoiled little girl—because their creator sounds—and acts—like a spoiled little girl.

Get over her already!

Sands: (Leah): Your attempts to G-rated rape her into submission didn’t work, now will you please stop sulking about it?!

She’s going to marry that thing. He’s going to try to change her into one of them! Time to move on, boy.”

“Shut up,” I growled.

Sands: Why don’t we all shut up? I’m for that. I’m exempt from that rule, of course, because everybody loves my voice. Isn’t that right, Mervin?

Mervin: *forced to appear in again, her hair a mass of tentacles—growls* Yes, your voice is beautiful, especially when you sing. *disappears again*

Ket: Your voice is too light for my taste. *tips back the bottle* But I’d still rather listen to you than them.

It would be wrong to strike back. I knew that.

Sands: Oh! Well, then strike thine ass off. This is Meyerland, Jerkoff—if you acknowledge it’s wrong, you can do it all you want. And anyway—the bitch has it coming.

Ket: I acknowledge it would be terribly wrong to go all American Psycho and break out a chainsaw. I’m good, right?

Sands: So long as you acknowledge that it would be wrong to leave me a few pieces, I think so.

Ket: Fantastic. Let me get my raincoat

I was biting my tongue. But she’d be sorry if she didn’t walk away. Now.

Sands: What are you—twelve?

Ket: What’re you gonna do? Snap her bra and call her fat?

“He’ll probably just kill her anyway,” Leah said. Sneering. “All the stories say that happens more often than not. Maybe a funeral will be better closure than a wedding. Ha.”

Sands: Don’t we wish.

Ket: But I do appreciate the bitterness, Leah.

This time I had to work.

Sands: (Jerkoff): If the boss catches me playing solitaire again, I’ll get fired.

I closed my eyes and fought the hot taste in my mouth.

Sands: *pulls his fist back* Don’t like the taste of blood? You really are the opposite of a vampire.

Ket: No, I think he just puked.

I pushed and shoved against the slide of fire down my back, wrestling to keep my shape together while my body tried to shake apart.

Sands: Aaaaaaaaaaand now Jerkoff is apparently having an orgasm.

Ket: Wow, spontaneous combustion. Get on with your bad self there.

When I was in control again, I glowered at her.

Sands: *throws a flag* Foul! You just used that phrase two pages ago!

Ket: …why do you have a flag?

Sands: For calling fouls. Duh.

She was watching my hands as the tremors slowed.

Sands: Holy shit—he was jacking off!


Sands: And she liked it!

Ket: *chortling into the vodka bottle* Meyer, you kinky, repressed bitch.

Some joke.

Sands: There are none in this series.

Ket: Except the writing. That’s a pretty big fucking joke.

Sands: The kind that isn’t funny in the slightest.

“If you’re upset about gender confusion, Leah…”

Sands: (Jerkoff): Look at this! *rips off his pants* I have a vagina underneath my dong!

Ket: …while that would explain a few things, STILL not a mental image I ever needed.

I said. Slow, emphasizing each word.

Sands: With three sentence fragments. Completely slipping past both Meyer. And her editor.

Ket: Fuck them. Fuck them both. This shit sucks. Wait. Those weren’t fragments. Dammit!

Sands: Are you seriously distressed that you speak better English than that bimbo?

Ket: A mentally-slow lemming could speak better English than her.

“How do you think the rest of us like looking at Sam through your eyes?

Sands: Oh, probably about as much as she likes looking at herself through yours.

Ket: I—dammit, I can't say anything about eyes without you punching me, can I?

Sands: I won’t punch you. Go ahead.

Ket: Okay. *deep breath* Easier just to put out her damn eyes and stop bitching about it, then.

Sands: *kicks her chair out from under her* I never said I wouldn’t do that, though.

It’s bad enough that Emily has to deal with your fixation.

Sands: Emily?! What the hell?! “Goddamn, Leah, why you gotta be such a pain to the chick who stole your fiancé from you?”

Ket: *getting back into her chair* You’re an asshole, Sands.

Sands: I just gotta be me. *kicks her right back down again*

Ket: *gets back up and slugs him*

Sands: Klingon foreplay? *cops a feel* I approve.

Ket: *shoves his hands away* Touch me again, Sands, and you’ll be the one feeling the fiery lashes of Saint Clair.

She doesn’t need us guys panting after him, too.”

Pissed as I was, I still felt guilty when I watched the spasm of pain shoot across her face.

Sands: Man, you’re just really making sure you can hurt her and do whatever you want to her—not only do you acknowledge it’s wrong, but you feel guilty about it, too—so that means you’re practically obligated to hurt her now!

Ket: Can I just sum this up and we can be on with it? They’re both inconsiderate pricks. The end.

She scrambled to her feet—pausing only to spit in my direction—and ran for the trees, vibrating like a tuning fork.

Sands: *sagely* I saw something like that in a hentai. She’s gonna have her entire body shoved up a monster’s orifice before you can say “tentacle rape”.

Ket: Calamari, anyone?

I laughed darkly. “You missed.”

Sands: Ah, I look forward to having his head shoved through the ceiling by Chevy Chase now.

Sam was going to give me hell for that, but it was worth it.

Sands: Why the hell would he bitch at you for that when he doesn’t do a damn thing about anything else you guys do to her? I mean, I know she’s a Scary Sue, but you people act like cardboard cutout villains around her.

Ket: Actually, here’s a better question: What was the point of that little exchange, except to show that they’re both assholes?

Sands: Padding.

Leah wouldn’t bug me anymore. And I’d do it again if I had the chance.

Sands: See? I told you. He’s admitted it’s wrong and that he feels guilty, so that means he’s free to go with whatever he wants.

Ket: Great. Now what, he stares angstily off of the cliff for the rest of the time?

Because her words were still there, scratching themselves into my brain, the pain of it so strong that I could hardly breathe.

Sands: Maybe he’ll stop altogether, and we can move on.

Ket: Even better: Exorcize that evil with a drill, Jerkoff!

Sands: *punches her in the mouth—hard*

Ket: *falls out of her chair*

Sands: *flatly* You wanna just stay down there, bitch?

Ket: *gets back up and spits blood at him* I hate you.

It didn’t matter so much that Bella’d chosen someone else over me. That agony was nothing at all. That agony I could live with for the rest of my stupid, too long, stretched-out life.

Sands: And yet again, aside from complaining about immortality, rather than bitching that he is normal, the tone and feel of this passage pretty much sounds exactly like Bella Swan. These people all sound alike. Because Meyer sucks.

Ket: Characters are supposed to have different voices, you BITCH—ow.

But it did matter that she was giving up everything—that she was letting her heart stop and her skin ice over and her mind twist into some crystallized predator’s head. A monster. A stranger.

Sands: You know, I would welcome that. I would dearly love it if she was no longer Bella Swan.

Ket: Well, she does become a Big Bad Breeding Machine…

Sands: *pause* …what?

Mervin: *pops in briefly* No spoilers for him if you can avoid it, Ket! He doesn’t know a thing about BD!

Ket: *covers her mouth* Oops.

Sands: Well, you may as well spoil that one completely, now that you’ve said it—

Mervin: No. I may have to kiss your ass, but I put my foot down there—you still have to obey the rules. *pops back out*

I would have thought there was nothing worse than that, nothing more painful in the whole world. But, if he killed her…

Sands: He was declaring he’d rather she be dead than a vampire earlier. Why the sudden change of mind?

Ket: He just wants to kill Bella first so he can eat her.

Again, I had to fight the rage. Maybe, if not for Leah, it would be good to let the heat change me into a creature who could deal with it better. A creature with instincts so much stronger than human emotions. An animal who couldn’t feel pain in the same way. A different pain. Some variety, at least.

Sands: Jerkoff apparently took a creative writing course recently. Also, we’ve seen no evidence that they become animalistic when like that.

Ket: All we’ve seen is emotastic bitching and scary possessiveness.

But Leah was running now, and I didn’t want to share her thoughts. I cussed her under my breath for taking away that escape, too.

Sands: Yeah, every bad thing ever is her fault. She ruins everything. Man. I hate all of these people, but even I notice how much they dump on Leah.

Ket: You idiot, make up your mind! You said you wanted to be alone, and now you’re bitching that she’s gone!

Sands: Well, he has to find some way to bitch at her. It’s their favorite pastime.

My hands were shaking in spite of me. What shook them? Anger? Agony? I wasn’t sure what I was fighting now.

Sands: Well, Ket and I are doing a lot of fighting this time around. We’re pretty clear on what we’re doing—we hope you work out your problems. Or not. I really don’t care, you know. You want a bite of this? *offers plate* It’d go great with that rice of yours.

Ket: *accepts the food rather sulkily* …this is pretty damn good.

Sands: Of course it is. I know my Mexican cuisine.

Ket: *hands it back* Thank you. Is he done yet?

I had to believe that Bella would survive. But that required trust—a trust I didn’t want to feel, a trust in that bloodsucker’s ability to keep her alive.

Sands: Aren’t vampires dead? Or did Meyer do her best to avoid “dead” so as not to have to imagine humping a corpse?

Ket: Well…you gotta figure they’re alive, since they have working sperm and uteri. Still, the whole “ice cold” thing makes you wonder…

Sands: Makes me wonder why the vampires all apparently live in meat lockers. *listens to his books on tape* This is boring. I’m skipping some. Summed up, Jerkoff goes home after whining even more, hoping we care, and his dad’s acting funny and obviously has bad news and even he insults Leah a lot. Lovely. He finally gets to the point.

Ket: Fine with me. What now?

Billy was quiet for a second too long. “We got a letter today.”

I could tell that this was the subject he’d been avoiding.

Sands: It’s the IRS. Those bitches!

“A letter?”

“A… wedding invitation.”

Sands: *spits out his drink* WOAH. DAMN. In ONE SENTENCE, in a chapter HE’S NOT EVEN IN, somehow, Ed manages to be an even bigger jackhole and douche than Jerkoff.

Ket: *is laughing too hard to speak*

Every muscle in my body locked into place. A feather of heat seemed to brush down my back. I held onto the table to keep my hands steady.

Sands: Watch out! He’s gonna nail his dad right in the forehead with a bukkake this time!

Ket: Aim for his eye!

Billy went on like he hadn’t noticed. “There’s a note inside that’s addressed to you. I didn’t read it.”

Sands: Eh, I think we all know what it says. “Ha ha ha. I win.”

Ket: “Guess what I’m nailing, bitch.”

He pulled a thick ivory envelope from where it was wedged between his leg and the side of his wheelchair. He laid it on the table between us.

“You probably don’t need to read it. Doesn’t really matter what it says.”

Sands: As before, see above.

Stupid reverse psychology. I yanked the envelope off the table.

It was some heavy, stiff paper. Expensive. Too fancy for Forks.

Sands: Did you expect anything less, Jerkoff? The Cullens are not happy unless they are spending oodles of cash, and that little smear of fecal matter Alice is the worst of the lot.

Ket: Hell, I’m surprised it wasn’t just engraved in gold.

The card inside was the same, too done-up and formal. Bella’d had nothing to do with this.

Sands: Because what she wants for her wedding has no bearing on anything. Remember the rhyme, folks—it’s her special day, so she gets no say.

Ket: That really made me think that Jacob just considers Bella too stupid to have written it.

There was no sign of her personal taste in the layers of see-through, petal-printed pages.

Sands: Seeing as she has none.

Ket: …petal-printed?

I’d bet she didn’t like it at all.

Sands: How fortunate that we didn’t have to witness Alice revealing this—because then we’d have to hear her whining about it.

Ket: Oh, it’s a damn piece of paper! Do people really care that much about invitations? I’ve never been married, but…

Sands: Meyer wants everything to be the best. Because she DESERVES the best. So, even the goddamned paper is going to be expensive.

I didn’t read the words, not even to see the date. I didn’t care.

Sands: Neither do I! So, why don’t we all just leave?


Sands: Well, great. Now you’ve given me a hard-on.

Ket: Oh, yay, the icing on my cake. *has a good sulk*

Sands: It’ll definitely be frosting on your cake, sweetpea. *leers*

Mervin: *appears* Hit him.

Ket: *promptly slugs him*

There was a piece of the thick ivory paper folded in half with my name handwritten in black ink on the back. I didn’t recognize the handwriting, but it was as fancy as the rest of it.

Sands: *lisping* Oh, you’d better believe that Ed is soooo fancy. He’s fabulous, too!

Ket: Can’t we just say “the note inside had my name in calligraphy on the back”? Do we need all the rest of this shit?

For half a second, I wondered if the bloodsucker was into gloating.

Sands: He is. A lot. But don’t let Meyer hear you say that—she’s in denial about a lot of the things that Ed is into. Like guys, for instance.

Ket: He makes out with Bella approximately six hundred times, and not once does he get hard. Queerer than a three dollar bill…

I flipped it open.


Sands: (Ed): I win, you suck, and I’m gonna stick it in her just to spite you. Here’s a picture of my dick. That will go in Bella’s vagina. A lot. Repeatedly.

Ket: (Wardo): Actually, here’s a full body picture of me naked. And here’s one of me jerking off. Just…keep that in mind. Yeah.

I’m breaking the rules by sending you this. She was afraid of hurting you, and she didn’t want to make you feel obligated in any way.

Sands: (Ed): Besides—as if I would ever consider doing something a puny wimmins asked me to do. Psh.

Ket: (Ed): And I like rubbing it in your face. Suck on that, dog-boy.

But I know that, if things had gone the other way, I would have wanted the choice.

Sands: (Ed): And what I want is obviously what everybody else wants. And even if it isn’t, I don’t care, seeing as what I want is really all that matters.

Ket: Wait, what? If Bella had married Jacob instead, he would have wanted to go to the wedding?

Sands: Sure thing—he would’ve wanted to stalk them from the bushes.

Ket: Well, okay, you got me there…

I promise I will take care of her, Jacob.

Sands: (Ed): Oh, am I EVER going to take care of her. *maniacal laughter*

Ket: (Wardo): Take care of her every night. And sometimes, right after lunch.

Thank you—for her—for everything.

Sands: (Ed): Thanks for keeping my girlfriend in cold storage while I went off and angsted for a while.

Ket: (Wardo): But go fuck yourself for trying to rape her.

Sands: Time for another skip. Jerkoff runs out of the house, turns into a werewolf, and is clearly running away from home. So we were wrong—he’s not twelve, he’s about five. But there are other wolves in his head, and they whine and are worried and feeling sorry for him and all concerned, but Sam is there for some reason and tells them to butt out. Here’s the closing of the chapter.

Ket: *straps on a helmet*

Only Sam was left.

Sands: There were two in the bed and the little one said…

Ket: Did Jacob just kill everyone? Rockin’.

Thank you, I managed to think.

Come home when you can. The words were faint, trailing off into blank emptiness as he left, too.

Sands: Now, Ket, as you haven’t really read the books, I would like to point something out—mostly because if I didn’t, Merv would get pissed and stomp on me, bet or no bet. Poor widdle rapist Jerkoff’s heart is just so broken that he didn’t succeed in raping Bella over to his side, so he’s running off. Sam is all tender and understanding, letting his second in command completely fuck off his duties to go sulk and piss and moan off in the woods. Now—did he ever extend this same courtesy to Leah, who suffered from something much worse and had to deal with the death of her father, a death that she ultimately blames on herself?

Ket: *thinks for a moment, then nods* Everyone in this book is in the closet.

And I was alone.

So much better. Now I could hear the faint rustle of the matted leaves beneath my toenails, the whisper of an owl’s wings above me, the ocean—far, far in the west—moaning against the beach.

Sands: Meyer is so goddamned repressed.

Ket: You know, I should have been keeping count of how many times it sounds like Jacob is getting off during this.

Hear this, and nothing more. Feel nothing but speed, nothing but the pull of muscle, sinew, and bone, working together in harmony as the miles disappeared behind me.

If the silence in my head lasted, I would never go back.

Sands: See? It wasn’t his fault that he pseudo-raped Bella! The voices in his head made him do it! And now he’s off to shoot the President to impress her!

I wouldn’t be the first one to choose this form over the other. Maybe, if I ran far enough away, I would never have to hear again…

I pushed my legs faster, letting Jacob Black disappear behind me.

Sands: And this irresponsible little fuckturd is supposedly the one who was destined to be the chief of the tribe and the Alpha wolf? If he’s a destined leader, slap a tutu on me, spank my ass, and call me Maria.

Ket: You’d just enjoy it, you weirdo.

( Acknowledgements: A Sporking )

( Final Thoughts )

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  • Update.

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  • Update.

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