My Birthday Present From Maelstrom!

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BIRTHDAY PREZZIE FOR JENNA BREEN McDONALD, 2000

"Hey, quit pushing!"

"YOU quit pushing! Moooooom!"

"What the -" Jean squeezed through the crowd surrounding the table and stared. Then she pressed her lips together and folded her arms sternly. "Nate, would you please stop annoying your sister?"

"Yeah, Nate!" Bridget tilted her head up to look at Nathan and jutted her lower lip out defiantly, fists on hips. "Stop annoying me!"

Sinister rolled his eyes and put his head in his hands, elbows on the table-top."Just what we need, a Summers squabble. Five whole timestreams of sibling rivalry, incest, and betrayal coming right up. It's times like these when I could just kick myself for the whole cloning schmutz."

"Aw, Sinny," Conny patted his back comfortingly. His cape stripes ruffled under her touch. "Don't feel bad. Yuh only did it 'cause yuh were too bored playin' with yoh Amateur Chemistry Kit. No biggie."

Maelstrom waved, trying to catch the attention of the crowd. "Uh, guys -"

"Why're you sympathetic towards him for?" Domino snorted. "Do you know how many times he's screwed with the Summers' minds? Especially my Nate's?"

"Naw, that's not true," Pistol yawned. "Nathan's mind was already screwed up long before he ever met Sinister." He reached for an Oreo to dunk in his milk, then realized that Domino, Logan, and Jean were looking at him. He quickly returned to his normal able-to-kill-with-just-a-glare-and-a-potato look.

"Guys!"

Everybody turned and stared at Maelstrom in surprise. She blinked briefly before flickering an embarrassed red, then recovered and tried to flash her best (in her opinion) smile. "Everybody," she repeated loudly, "as you all know, you're JB McDonald's fictives. . ."

"Hold on, little lady," Dev said, and to Maelstrom's utter surprise, he plucked her from the floor and lifted her up to deposit her onto the center of the round table. "There you go. And speak up, 'kay?" He hopped over to stick on the wall, scratching his head with his tail and nodding at her to go on.

Maelstrom chuckled nervously as she glanced down at everyone, all of whom were looking up at her with attentive eyes. She suddenly felt grateful that she'd chosen not to wear a miniskirt that day, since she had enough on her mind without having to worry about people looking up her. . . well, never mind. "Um, as I was saying. . . you're all JB McDonald's fictives -"

"Unfortunately."

"Be quiet, Mystic. Anyway, today is JB's birthday, and I was thinking we could throw her a surprise party. What do you think?"

A collective silence arose for exactly three and four-fifths seconds before everyone replied with a resounding, "NO!"

Everyone except for Dev and Azul, that is, who replied with a helpless, "BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"But guuuuuuuuys -" Maelstrom pleaded.

"She killed my brother!" Bridget roared. "And stuck him in my head! Do you know how little privacy that offers? Especially when I'm in the bathroom??"

You're complaining? Cody hissed. Imagine the trauma I'm going through. My own sister! My eyes are never gonna be the same again!

"Shut shut shut UP." Maelstrom glared. "You're all going to help set up the party at her house, because I say so."

"Like that reason holds any water?"

Boob Woman stood up straight with her chest sticking out, her butt sticking back, and her feet firmly planted on the ground. Conny wondered briefly if such a position was good for Boob Woman's spine, but said nothing. "I will help you, Maelstrom!!" Boob Woman declared, a trumpeting tune echoing in the background. "Because it is a good deed!! And because it lets me use a lot of exclamation marks!!! And my Stupid Seven team will help me!!!!"

"Good God," Nate breathed, shaking his head. "Kill me now."

Sinister perked up, but Jean shot him a "down, boy" look.

Maelstrom cleared her throat. "Ahem. Thank you, Boob Woman, I knew I could count on you. Now, I can't get over to where JB is to supervise you decorating her house, so Sinny's going to do it on my behalf. He's the only organized one of the bunch, so he'll watch over you."

"Don't count on it," Sinister scowled. "I'm not going to do anything for that sadist. She gave me a cold right during the holiday season two years ago. I did not enjoy that."

"No, but I did," Scott snickered. Sinister shot him a baleful look.

Maelstrom snapped her fingers. "Move it, people. We have to get her house ready for the party. I'm going to transfer you over via phone lines -- I'll squash you into an e-mail, and the minute JB checks it you'll spring out and do your job. Make sure she doesn't catch you or suspect a thing, though. Remember, it's supposed to be a surprise."

"Moooooom," Timedancer whined. "I don't want to get squashed into an e-mail! It'll ruin my hair!"

"Shush, Dancer," Mystic comforted, "you forget one thing."

"What's that?"

"We'll get access into Jenna's house. We'll be able to do anything in there without her knowing. Anything."

"Ahhhhhh. . . goody. Dev, don't forget the sledgehammer."

Maelstrom put her head into her hand and sighed. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

The little grey box popped up on the computer screen. "You Have New Mail", it silently chirped. JB brightened and started to wade through the huge load of "Happy Birthday" messages from her friends. Just as she clicked on Maelstrom's name, however, a voice called from outside her room. "Jenna! It's your turn to take out the trash!"

"But Mom!" JB yelled back. "I'm the birthday girl! It's my birthday! You do not take out the trash on your birthday!"

"You do now!" Little Sister called gleefully as she scampered past the door. "It's a new rule. Mom set it a few days ago. Off you go, birthday girl!"

JB emitted what sounded like a cross between a grunt and a "HnnnmphhowcouldtheyDOthistomennnggh" before rising from her seat and leaving her room. And as soon as she did, the entire room was suddenly resonating the "Mission: Impossible" theme song. Fictives began squeezing out of Maelstrom's e-mail and out JB's computer speaker-holes. It took a lot of huffing and puffing before everyone finally got dragged out.

Mystique rubbed a bruise on her rib and concentrated on shape-shifting it away. "That's it, I can't even fit through speaker-holes anymore. I'm going on a diet," she announced.

"Aw, darlin'," Logan said huskily as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, "I like the way y' are just fine."

"You'd better," she teased, and they shared a long kiss.

"EWW! Yuck!" Buckdaw covered his eyes. "That's disgusting! Look away, you guys," he ordered Lynx and Enchantment. "You're too young for this."

"We've seen worse," Lynx hmmph'ed, but she and Enchantment obeyed.

Boob Woman prodded her pectorals and was pleased to find them as bouncy as ever. "My puppies didn't get hurt by the squash," she beamed.

"A gun, a gun," Dancer muttered, "what I wouldn't give for a gun."

Domino leaned over to the girl's ear and whispered, "You can do greater damage with a hunting knife."

Sinister clapped his hands. "All right, everybody, let's get to work. According to Nate's timestream-predictor-thingy, Ms. McDonald and her family are going out to lunch in five minutes. That'll give us the time we need to set up the party decorations before they come back. I've already given you your duties, you know what to do. She's coming this way -- hide."

Everybody scattered, diving under the bed, into the closet, even squeezing under the desk. JB entered the room just as Dev snaked his tail out of sight, and she sat in front of her computer to finish reading Maelstrom's e-mail. She frowned -- all that was in the e-mail were two words: "Happy Birthday."

"So much for hoping for a grand celebration," she sighed, clicking on the "Delete" button. Her father called from across the hall, suggesting a treat at the local Dairy Queen, and JB hurried to get ready. She protested when he didn't let her use her new car to drive, but figured he had a point -- Mom and Dad were still traumatized from the last time they had been in the same car as JB while she was behind the wheel. Older Sister had mentioned something about their parents resuming saying their prayers now, but JB honestly didn't think it was that serious. After all, Kris and Confetti had survived a ride, right? So what if Little Sister insisted that she still had leftover bird feathers in her mouth from all that screaming? She was wrong.

As soon as the family were out of the driveway and down the road, the fictives went to work.

***

"Pistol, you do NOT spell 'Happy Birthday' with the F word."

"Bite me."

"I will! I will! Just say the word, Myst, and I'll -"

"Back off, Max, this is my fight."

"Grmblgrmbl. . . can't even get a decent blood-soaked meal around here."

"There's some chicken in the fridge if you want some, Max."

"Thanks, Domino! Yum!"

"Dom! You can't tell him to help himself to the McDonalds' food! That's not our chicken!"

"And your point is?"

". . . Hmm, good point. Hey, got any M&Ms there?"

***

Dev found Sinister sitting outside the house on the front step, a lit cigarette in his hand. His dark eyes were glazed over, and he didn't even seem to care that the neighbors were cowering behind their Venetian blinds in fear of this person sitting in front of the McDonalds' residence. Razor sharp teeth, fine. Red diamond on the forehead, no problem, that happened a lot around this neighborhood. But pasty white skin, no no no, that was FREAKISH! This was California, for heaven's sake! Nobody could be that dire in need of a tan!

Dev sat next to Sinister on the step. "I didn't know you smoked. When did you take up the habit?"

"Two minutes ago," said Sinister dully. "Right after Captain X tried to maim PantiLyner with a pair of scissors. Who knew that a man with a pair of pink wings on his back could scream bloody murder?"

"Hey, you are talking about scissors," Dev pointed out. "Pantyliners are helpless soft absorbent material that are prone to being chopped into half during every single pantyliner TV ad -"

"STOP!!" Sinister cried, flinging his hands over his ears. "I don't want to hear this!!"

They heard a soft sigh as a pair of long blue legs stood next to them. Dev glanced up and squinted, then recognized the figure as Mystique. She looked very similar to his own mother, Mystic, except that Mystic's eyes were amber and not yellow. In any case, Mystique sat down next to them.

"Really, Sinny," she tsked, "have you resorted to speaking with multiple exclamation marks too?"

Sinister hushed a bawl, close to tears.

She patted his back. "I think the pressure's getting to him," she told Dev over Sinister's hunched shoulders.

"Ya think?" Dev inquired as a pink high-heeled shoe flew out the window. An enraged scream that he recognized as Dancer's was immediately followed by Lynx's own shrieks.

"Child abuse!" the girl was yelling. "Get the silver-haired witch off me! Child abuse!"

Sinister gave a whimper. Mystique smiled and tilted his chin up with a blue finger. "How about we go for a little relaxation cruise?" she asked, smiling devillishly.

"Oh God, what now?" Sinny sighed.

She dangled a pair of car keys in front of his eyes. He blinked and looked at her questioningly, and she grinned in reply. "Found it on Jenna's desk. She has a lovely new silver Honda Civic Hatchback just waiting to be driven. . ."

Dev raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were more into forest green Camaros with black trim?"

"Doesn't mean I can't play with other toys while I'm at it. Quick, let's go -- Logan still thinks I'm getting whipped cream from the kitchen."

Dev frowned. "What are you going to eat the whipped cream with?" He caught the wicked smirk in her eyes and instantly recoiled. "Oh YUCK! Ew! For God's sake, don't tell me that! You look just like my mom, remember??"

"C'mon, boys," she smiled, sauntering off with a sensual move to her body. "It's fun time. Coming, Sinny?"

For the first time that day, a bright smile lit up Sinister's face, like a little boy who had just been invited to the local Monster Truck Rally. "Only if I get to drive!"

***

"The family's coming back! Quick, into the computer again!"

"But we'll get squashed -"

"Yeah, but it's our only chance of hiding from the McDonalds until we get back to Maelstrom! The next time JB sends an e-mail to Maelstrom, we'll squeeze into it and hitch a ride home."

"'Home?' She's not our home. Why would we even want to go back to Maelstrom?"

"You'd rather we stay here with Ms. Torture-And-Give-My-Fictives-Grief McDonald?"

". . . Good point. Back to the computer, folks!"

"Hey, anyone seen my Mystique. . .?"

***

Jenna and her family were astonished when they entered their house. Colorful streamers were laced all over the place, along with balloons and curly-tailed ribbons, and the dining table was full to the brim with chocolates, candy, ice-cream, and a gigantic birthday cake. A huge banner was stretched across the living room, declaring, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JB! FROM MAELSTROM AND ALL YOUR ADORING FRIENDS!"

Little Sister peered under the word "ADORING" and claimed that a little "NOT" had been scrawled underneath, but no one believed her.

JB was bouncing on the balls of her feet. "How did this happen?" she cried happily. "I'm gonna mail Maelie now and ask her!"

"Mind if we help ourselves to the food, while you're at it?" asked Older Sister, who was already chopping up the birthday cake into bite-sized pieces.

Mom and Dad looked at each other worriedly. "Uh, Jenna, dear? Do you think we could sic the police on this 'Maelie' of yours? Breaking and entering is technically a crime. . ."

"Hey," said Older Sister, peering out the window. "What happened to your car, Jenna?"

Jenna almost tripped on the carpet as she rushed to Older Sister's side, panic written all over her face. "What happened to it?" she cried. No, no, not her car! Her new car! Her very pretty sleek absolutely wonderful new car! Please let it be all right! If anything bad ever came to it --

She screeched to a stop by the window and blinked. "Where is my car?" she asked.

"Exactly," Older Sister said. "It's gone."

***

"YEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAA!! Ride 'em, cowboy!"

"Uh, Sinny, I think you're going much too fast -"

"Who cares? WOOOOHOOOOO! Hey, baby, how'd you like to sit on my lap?"

Dev covered his eyes as they sped past a group of female rollerbladers. "Even I don't get this out of control," he murmured between saying his prayers.

"That's what you think," Mystique pointed out. "Hey, Sinny, I hear Mexico makes some good tequilas."

"We're heading over right now! HOT DIGGITY DAMN!"

"Oh God. . ."

The end? Sadly, no. . . ;)

Happy Birthday!! :D (And be careful of what fictives may be riding on this e-mail. . . ;) )

Maelstrom :)

Dance in Fields of Gold
http://maelie.cjb.net

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Back to the living room

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