Bijoux: Errr...this is one late update...um...I'm sorry...I guess...hopefully I'll actually keep going with this for once...(shifty gaze)...um...yeah...well thanks to all the reviews and stuff which acutally finally made me get off my lazy backside and update this thing...after a year of slackness with it...
I don't own anything...
Chapter 4- Like Father Like Son…
KLEIVER
I growl at the happiness that surrounds the trailer court as I pass through it towards the studio. I was happily having a nice planned out Sunday afternoon, of watching footy, and drinking beer whilst feeding my pet with a few over tomato sauce covered mincemeat pies.
BUT NO! I can't have my peace and quiet, because some snappy ankle bitter of a producer has to call me into the studio to do some stupid scene again!
"Hello Kleiver," my thought's are interrupted to the sound of Damas, and his ugly, UGLY presence around my personal space. I put on a fake smile as I turn my head to look at him beside me.
"Hello…Damas…" I manage to say through gritted teeth. Damas has his 'I'm so good' stance on, in my opinion, it makes him look like a little boy scout, but my opinions never matter because no one's smart enough to take them in!
"I hear we will be doing a scene together today…ah, the fun we will have…" Damas says, his tone sounds as if he'd just won the battle of Britain or something…
"Yeah…fun…" I spit as I roll my eyes when Damas isn't looking, we stop at the door and he opens it, stepping aside to let me go through first…just as well…
I walk through the door and grab hold of its edge, pulling it out of Damas' hands and slamming it in his face. I laugh as I hear a thumping noise just outside the door, followed by a pain filled groan. I put a hand on my belly to stop it from bounding it all over the place as I uncontrollably chuckle at Damas and his door splat. He soon emerges from outside and stumbles up next to me.
"I'm sorry about that Kleiver…but we seemed to have gotten separated…" Damas chuckles as he appears next to me, a large purple bump on his big ugly forehead. I growl to myself as I roll my eyes away from Damas' direction, how many times do I have to slam a door in this guy's face, before he gets the bloody idea that I don't wanna be his friend…?
"Well…here we go…" Jak cheers as he appears on my right, I glare down at him, as he strolls towards the set happily. It is no sooner that we have found out that we are shooting a scene from around the start of Jak 3 that me, Damas and those little ankle biters Jak and Daxter, are ushered onto the set of my garage, around my prized vehicles. I feel like the only intelligent one, as Jak, Daxter and Damas can't seem to stop grinning like idiots. What they're grinnin at, I DON'T KNOW! But it better not be me…coz if it is, I'm gonna skin and butter the rat, and use the over two for footwear to go water skiing!
"And…ACTION!" I hear the queue for me to start my lines, as Jak advances towards me, if it weren't in the script, then that would be a bad idea.
"Damas has a job for us, but I'm no baby sitter, so stay outta my way!" I growl, trying hard to spray a wave of spit over the two 'loveable' heroes. The rat leans into me slightly, making me have an urge to ring his neck and throw him out the window.
"Jak's not afraid of you…are you Jak…?" rat boy looks down at ankle biter Jak, a look of poorly drawn concern on his ratish little face.
"If you knew what was happening out here, you'd be afraid…" I slightly chuckle at these words, knowing well that if these two short stuffs ever entered my trailer, they probably wouldn't come out alive…the thought brings a tinge of happiness to my mind, but that feeling is soon shook away, when he comes…
"What's going on here?" Damas comes into the scene of the crime, with his utter radiance of stupidity floating around the room. I snigger at the vision of his head imploding in on itself as I continue on with my lines.
"Nothing you're lordship. Just offering Jak and the little one here some healthy advice." I state as I pet Daxter under his chin. I can't seem to find out what's worse…calling Damas lordship…or having to pet the talking sandwich ingredient on legs…
Damas comes closer and puts his hand on Jak's shoulder, turning him around slightly as he whispers something to him. But this was when the annoyance of the day, really began…
"You have a reputation for being a rash…" I hear Damas say. He's changed the script around again, to suit him…and it'll only get worse from here…
"CUT!"
Finally, we have once again reached the destined line; Damas better not screw it up this time…
"You have a reputation for having a rash…"
"CUT!"
Does he think this is funny or something…? To toy with my precious Kleiver time? Stupid moron…
"You have a reputation for being an ass…" the director does not stop and rewind the show this time…I guess they figured that this is the closest Damas is ever gonna get to actually saying a slightly right line…
Damas continues on with his line, as I scowl in the background, growing rather sick of this whole scene, let alone the people in it…the director doesn't seem to be too enthusiastic anymore…probably let us get away with saying anything right now…
"Didn't your father ever tell you to pick your vegetables wisely…?" I snort in my head at Damas' stupidity, the other two ankle biters don't seemed bothered with the foolish new lines of Damas.
"I didn't know my father…" Jak sighs as he turns away, a sad look on his face, HA, serves him right for ruining my time…
"My point is sometimes you face your enemy head on and sometimes…you wait until his pizza is eaten. Grandma's undies is a warriors greatest weapon…do you understand?" no one seems to know what the hell Damas is going on about, the director still doesn't seem bothered, and he's now slumping in his director's chair, a bored look on his face.
"Jak, I want you, and Kleivery Duff to go into the dessert shop, and by me some mud cake, and a few dozen caramel based cupcakes…I must prepare for whatever lies under my own bed…I'll eat all the resources we can gather…" Damas finishes up his lines and I scowl harder at the name he has called me…if I'm not mistaken, he just fused my name with Hillary Duff's…
"No problem…I'm good with caramel…" Jak smiles like hero as he goes along with Damas' lines. I roll my eyes at the lot of em. If I were in charge of this game, it would be called Kleiver and Kleiver: The Precursor Kleiver, or Kleiver 2: Renegade and then there would be Kleiver 3, and Kleiver X: Combat Kleiver…oh how sweet it would be…and then there would be the newest game being created…Kleiver, on PSP…I'll replace that rat good…
"See you out there, "bum"…HAHAHAHAH!"
"CUT! Kleiver, for hell's sake, read the right lines like the rest of the cast…"
Stupid director…
After the scene is re-perfected as best as it can be, I storm out the studio and towards the pub, only to be stopped by Sig…who also seems to think he's my friend.
"Hey man, how's it hangin…?" Sig asks as he raises his arm in the air, in a cheery sort of manner, I spit at his cheery attitude at the worst of times…
"I'll have you know, that my gut doesn't want to have conversation with you…so don't ask him how he's hangin!" I roar as I jerk a fist towards Sig. Sig stops, dead in his tracks, and puts his own hands up for a defense.
"Yeah man…leave the Kleiver eater alone…" oh great…another one…and this time it's worse…this time…it's Praxis…and I think he's drunk, due to the fact that he stinks of some kind of rum.
"Yeah, I guess you're right man…" Sig chuckles as he puts an arm around Praxis' swaying shoulders, "So, you guys up for some pansy hunting?"
"Right on bro…" Praxis booms as he does some kind of surfer bum hand movement.
"ALRIGHT!" the two of them roar as they run off into the distance, I growl and mutter under my breath as I continue along towards the pub.
The wooden door soon comes into my wide view, and as I reach to the door, thoughts of happiness filter my head…well…that's before some scrawny, shame to manliness stage hand appears in my view, quivering slightly in fear from my overpowering sexiness…
"Um…I'm sorry to interrupt your evening Mr. Kleiver sir…but uh…I'm afraid we have to redo that scene from before…because well…Praxis and Sig just came running in before…they snatched the tape calling it a pansy…and well…now we're lacking in the scene they took…and well…uh…" I growl at the stagehand's words and he seems to quiver even more with fear.
"I ain't doing another scene in that place, until I have my refueling!" I roar as I shove the stagehand away, forcing my way into the pub, and slamming the door behind me.
I laugh to myself as the image of that scrawny man falling into a puddle of mud endlessly replays in my skull.
My happiness however fades, when I hear HIS voice…
"You can't tell me it's my turn to pay for the drinks…I AM THE QUEEN OF HEARTS!"
Oh Lord please no…if I had gotten here earlier, I could've drank my fill, and high skated outta here the minute that drunken fool even realized where he was…but no…people just had to get in MY way, during MY Kleiver time! Stupid ankle biting ankle biters…
There is a roar of laughter from the far side of the room, and I struggle to avert my gaze from the laughing idiot Damas, as his drunken features twist into a drunken smile…stupid fool…I'll show him Queen of Hearts…Queen of Hearts when my boot high tales into his fat arse…
I growl to myself moving towards the counter, where I soon order a large mug of beer, taking the drink into my beefy hand, I maneuver towards a vacant table, as far away from Damas and his idiot friends as I can possibly get.
And yet, my back faces the fools, but I still hear 'em…laughing their heads off, and disrupting the peace of the pub…
I once again growl, lifting the half empty mug to my mouth, sculling half of what's left before I'm rudely interrupted, by the 'Queen' himself…
"Hey there Cleaner! How's ya been goings…?" Damas roars in my ear hole, as he wraps a drunken arm around my shoulders. I can feel him swaying next to me, and have to fight the urge of pushing him to the floor, with the fear of getting chucked out the pub. So instead I sit and try to endure the 'Queen's' idiocy.
"Ya know man…if ya wanted to…you could come join me and my groupies over in the far west…HI GUYS!" Damas again roars in my ear, waving his over arm at the other side of the pub, the other idiots wave back, but I couldn't careless, as I am splashed with a swig of beer, which has flown out of Damas' mug, which is high in the air along with his gruesome left hand.
I just continue to stay somewhat as calm as I can be, and ignore Damas as he laughs at nothing in an annoyingly loud boom of a voice.
"So…do ya wanna come sit with us…? You can be the King of Games…like that Yugimo guy…ya know the one and he's got a starfish stuck on his head coz he went to the beach during one of those days when all the creatures get washed ashore to do their grocery shopping!" Damas tightens his arm around my shoulders and he sways even more on the spot, I meanwhile hunch further over my table and try to ignore the stupid fool.
"Oh…well…I'm sorry your majesty…but I don't speak your language…" I mutter in the calmest tone I can create without sounding friendly, hoping that this idiot will just piss off and leave me be for the rest of the pub visit.
"Oh…OKAY! Hey guys! Cleanery Duff, says he can't speak our luggage! Seeyaz laters Mr. Duff! I LOVE YOU!" Damas roars as he retreats back to his table, a tear running down his ugly cheek as he stumbles backwards towards his friends.
Thank the Lord he's gone…now to get back to drinking…
About 15 minutes later, it's also 16 drinks later…stage hands keep coming toward me…but I beat them away like the flies they is…heh heh…hehhehehehehe…
But before I know it…I'm back on stage…reading my lines…and oh god…why is the room dancing harder than that pimple cream advert Jak made…?
Woot…better stop thinking…it's time for my lines…
SAMOSI was happily in my bed…TRYING to sleep through the racket going on in the pub next to my trailer, when some stage scum drags me into the studio to re-shoot a scene which Praxis and Sig apparently nicked off with earlier this evening…why ME!
And so now I stand here, an watch the destruction of 3 drunk people, and Daxter, as they try to read through their lines…and oh the horror that it is…and what's worse…the director won't stop them and make them read the right lines…oh the horror…
"Dumbass has a mop for us, but I'm no floor synthesizer, so you can get stuffed like my Christmas ham…"
Kleiver really is not a pretty sight when he's drunk…I begin to wish I'd never bothered to even come early to the study for my shooting…I don't go well watching a thing which goes nowhere…and the fact that's it's 2:30 at night makes it even worse…
"Jak's not afraid of you…are you Jak…?" Daxter, the only sober one on the current shooting looks at Jak with a mild look of concern on his ratish features. Jak sways on the spot, his eyes unfocused and he seems to be drooling out what appears to be beer…how disgusting…I grimace at the mere sight of it…
"If you knew what was happening in Damas' bar fridge, you'd be afraid…"
"What's going on with my BEER?" Damas now appears on the scene, he's holding a beer bottle in his hand, and is eyeing it suspiciously, knowing the luck of beverages in this studio, I'd say a bug has landed and drowned in it…
"Nothing your corn chip. Just offering Jak and Jill here some health care products." Kleiver states as he slams his palm fairly hard into Daxter's head. Daxter glares as he cringes in what would appear to be pain.
Damas comes closer and puts his hand on Jak's shoulder, turning him around slightly as he whispers something to him. I however have grown even more uninterested with this whole outcome…
"You have a reputation for drinking my cash…"
"(Sniff) I'M SORRY MAN!" Jak sobs as he wraps an arm around Damas, forcing his crying face into the larger man's shoulder, as he sways on the spot, Daxter get's knocked off Jak's shoulder and has fallen to the ground, as Damas too, turns emotional for no apparent reason.
"It's okay Jak…but didn't your mother ever give your own allowance…?" I roll my eyes at these words, as they are just too pathetic compared to the script…
"I didn't know I had a mother…(sniff)…thank you man! This has opened so many job opportunities for me!" Jak cries harder now, but I believe it's from joy that he will no sooner have forgotten by the time he awakes at whatever time tomorrow morning or afternoon…
"Well…my point is that sometimes you crush you beer can head on …and sometimes you wait until you've actually opened and drunk the whole beverage…" I roll my eyes once again at the stupidity of this whole thing, as Damas crushes a full and unopened beer can into his thick forehead, the can opens from all the pressure, and beer flies all over the idiot who is so called a king.
"My Underwear has melted onto my washing line…and I need you to scrape them off with your egg flip…do you understand…?" Jak nods at Damas' words.
"Jak, I want you and Kleivery Duff to sing a concert together in my dessert bowl…make sure you run before I eat you…I swallow all the seesaws I find along my travels…"
"No problem…I'm good at not doing anything but nothing…" Jak smiles as he sways on the spot even more, before he soon falls to the floor, a crazed and distraught expression on his drunk face.
"See you out there chum dog food…" Kleiver states as he too falls to the floor, the same expression on his face as what Jak had. And so it is decided that there is only Damas sanding, out of the four actors who were on stage.
"Yeah! I'm the last one--…ooh…" Damas soon falls to the floor as well and I roll my eyes further as the whole studio falls silent…it's going to be a long night…
Bijoux: So how was that...?
Sharok: It was the worst thing I've ever read...
Bijoux: OH YEAH! Well YOU'RE the worst think I'VE ever read!
Corad: (comes at Bijoux due to the insult thrown at her OC or 'daughter' even though Sharok's a dude...)...
Bijoux:...err...I have to go...but um...I hope you review and I'll try and get another chapter up as soon as possible...