Extra: Daisy Goes Jersey Shore

So I was working on shots for the next update and feeling a trifle bored with Julia and Young Watson’s incessant “ooh la la”ing in the words of the great Panda Belue and decided to send Scarlett and Daisy to the summer festival. The results were, er, interesting to say the least.

Much commentary, unedited photos, and shameless Willy Wonka references follow.

“Scarlett, it’s raining and Chester hasn’t called me back and nobody’s even at this dumb festival anyway!”

“Oh, Daisy, you’re drearier than the weather! I know a little man that will cheer you up…”

Speaking of little men, you know what’d be the coolest new lifestate University could offer? Dwarves. Not like the ones on that TLC show, but the hardcore, whiskey guzzling, wooly mammoth slaying, elf hating Scottish dwarves.

Unfortunately, Scarlett wasn’t talking about dwarves. 😦

“I feel a little mean doing this!” spurted Scarlett. “What if those gnomes had mothers?”

I’m sure the Whack-a-Gnome factory is crying buckets, Scarlett.

A chrome, futuristic machine caught Daisy’s eye. “TANNING BOOTH,” read the massive sticker on its side. The fine print, which most everyone ignored, read smartly, “for oompa loompas only.”

Daisy, like most people, ignored the fine print.

“All older men love tan women!” cheered Daisy. It was why her father had stayed with her mother all those years, she was sure, and it would get Chester to propose to her faster than a gun to his forehead.

“This is way better than going to the beach!”

She emerged in a few minutes, and her world ended.

“My abs are so much more pronounced! Far out!”

Just wait for the graphics to catch up to you, hon.

Scarlett, however, was ahead of my computer.

“Daisy, you look like a fucking orangutan.”

“They’re muscular! I’m muscular! That is all we have in common!”

“Look again.”

“Where in the hell did those tan lines come from?”

“That’s the least of your worries,” huffed Scarlett. “You look a ginger Snooki clone.”

“But I’m on a diet!” protested Daisy.

“Diet or not-you’re still orange.”

Horribly embarrassed, Daisy fled home, desperately hoping that she wouldn’t run into anyone before the color faded. This being the Belues, she was intercepted before making it in the front door.

“She’s not real, she’s not real, she’s not real!” cried Rose, who could rarely discern hallucinations from real life. She often thought of sheep, which were mostly harmless, but the other twenty percent of the time, her vision was occupied by raging oompa loompas.

“It’s just a spray tan!” cried Daisy. Just a spray tan, hah. Keep telling yourself that, Daisy.

She ran inside, hoping to get to her room unnoticed. Unfortunately, Julia was partying up the dining room.

“Wow, Daisy, going real hardcore there,” giggled Julia. “I’m really enjoying the yellow stripes.”

“Come on!” cried Daisy. “The tanning booth malfunctioned!”

“And now you’re sweet potato orange! Have you seen Young Watson? We have a deal to consummate.”

“Gross,” scowled Daisy.

At that moment, Scarlett arrived home and decided to make amends with Daisy. “It’s not all bad,” she said. “At least you sort of match the countertops.”

“Thanks a bunch, Scarlett,” hissed Daisy. “I feel loads better now.”

“Just doing my job,” smiled Scarlett.

“I’ll make you feel sorry for me,” snapped Daisy. “Then you’ll feel bad for being so cruel!”

“Really?” Scarlett yawned. “I’m mostly just bored. Maybe I’ll call up Dante.”

Daisy stood in the corner for a few moments, racking her vapid mind for a vain idea. She thought of each chick flick she’d ever seen-the number racked up in the thousands-and decided on her favorite: The Pirates of the Caribbean.

In Daisy’s mind, every movie was a chick flick-especially if it was directed by Quentin Tarantino. Inglorious Bastards was her favorite.

She set the plan into motion.

“I’m feeling a little faint!” she called.

“What was that?” hollered Scarlett, pressing her phone to her cheek. “I can’t talk right now!”

“I think I might faint!” shouted Daisy, punctuating it with a sigh.

Scarlett ignored her, but Daisy tumbled to the floor anyway.

After a few minutes, Scarlett noticed a distinct lack of complaining. “Did Daisy die?” she wondered, before shrugging and turning to china cabinet.

While Daisy may have not died in body, her spirit certainly suffered a great deal.

Scarlett – 1
Daisy – 0

Sorry, Daisy. NO FRIENDS.

                   

A/N: I might do more of these in the future. They’re a lot of fun to write, and I’m sure that I’ll have a lot more wackiness that doesn’t fit into chapters now that I have Seasons. Stay tuned for a new chapter…sometime! 🙂