"But He's MY Weirdo!" (1/3) (L&S Fic) (Goosebumps Quatre!) (PG)
RATING: PG (Just because it involves mature themes, but it isn't an "adult" fic)
DISTRIBUTION: To Squeaky and FG so far; any other archives are welcome to ask, but disclaimers must be included, my email left intact. send a URL, and provide full disclaimers as well as credit me fully. Please inform me if you are going to submit my work to any sort of search engine. Â Please do not submit my work to a search engine that picks out random sets of words and uses them as key words, such as "Google" Please contact me in order for this story to be placed on an archive, or if you want know of a friend who would enjoy my works, please email me their adress and I will mail them the stories, expressly for the purpose of link trading. MiSTiers are welcomed! Please do inform me that you'd like to do the MiSTing, however, and send me a copy of the finished product. I'd also love to archive any MiSTings that are made of my work!
NOTES: Continuing right where we left off...
CATEGORY: L&L romance, S&C romance, Humor, drama
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Will Squiggy save Rhonda from Dick? Will Lenny ever meet up with Laverne? And what about that proposal?!
****
Laverne clung to the sharp metal edge of the rolled-down front seat window in Squiggy's rented Pinto. Some part of her remained completely agog with amazement that she'd somehow become a part of yet another of Squiggy's wild schemes. Yet, this time, Squiggy's usual modes operandi was absent; the scent of money was certainly absent from the air. This mission seemed dependent on an emotion that she'd never known Squiggy to have; pure chivalry.
"Squig, why do you think Rhonda's gonna wanna marry you?" She blinked at her own, purely unintentional, sing-songing cadence.
Squiggy pulled his hand back from the wheel and gestured, "'cause Dick's a crum," He pointed to the folded-up vanity mirror above her head, "Takea lookit those."
Laverne gave Squiggy a brief look of consternation before pulling down the vanity; a medium-sized manilla envelope tumbled out onto her lap. Naturally cautious (Since matters, of course, involved Squiggy), Laverne pulled open the envelope and her jaw nearly fell to the floor of the cab. She slapped the pictures together so that their slick images were no longer visible, stuffed them back into envelope, and smacked Squig about the ear.
"You disgustin' pig!" She cried, "What're you doin' with pictures of Rhonda... Rhonda..."
"Showing her dudeness?" Squiggy asked, meaning nudeness; she noticed that Squiggy couldn't cover up his own delight at the pictures. Laverne nodded self-righteously, "That's what I've been tryin' ta tell ya. I didn't take the pictures. How could I? They were all over the base Uncle Dan stuck me wit'!"
"You mean Uncle Sam?"
"No, Uncle Dan," Squiggy's eyes narrowed briefly before he continued, "Even I know it ain't right ta take pictures of a girl when she ain't lookin'."
"Wow, Squig...That's almost sweet of ya."
"...Ya gotta at least get her a beer 're two in 'er first." Squig said, causing Laverne's lip to turn up in disgust.
"Just when I think I have ya figured out..." Laverne shook her head, turning back to the road, "So, how'd Army life treat ya?"
"Eh, OK; did you know you can fit four whole jarsa moths in a surplus freezer and they never think ta look for 'em?" Laverne groaned nauseously.
"Ugh, let's talk about somthin' else...How did you end up as a chef?"
Squiggy smiled, "I guess they liked the way I cooked. They loved me back there; when they found out I could cook beaks and talons fer 60, they didn't want ta let me go."
"That's nice, Squig," Laverne noted, muzzling her disgust.
"Eh," Squiggy shrugged and seemed to notice something nearing in the distance, "It was the least they coulda done fer me after I parked the Col.'s jeep out in the firing range." The Pinto rocked violently to the left as it took a corner and thrust itself up onto an asphalt parking lot; Laverne suddenly felt sympathy for those melons that Squiggy had dispatched those many years ago. "Ain't this the place?"
Laverne unfolded a napkin covered copiously in Rhonda's lipstick-inscribed hand, "Cupid's Vault Chapel" She squinted up through the car's dirt-streaked windshield at the chapel's automated, whirling, neon-encrusted sign.
The neon letters clearly blared back something about Cupid; a winged cherubim stood on the very tip of his toes, holding in place a heart-tipped arrow. But she couldn't quite see the name on the sign.
"I needa better look," She said, before opening the car door; and losing her balance, tumbling into the backseat of an awfully familiar-looking hatchback.
"Willya quit doin' that? Yer startin' to remind me of my mother on a Friday night..." She felt Squiggy's rude hands pull her upward by both arms; she battled them off and managed to right herself, sitting up.
"I ain't gonna ask," She began, staring at the car from which she'd just been rescued, but then everything came together, "Pink dice...leopard seat cover... and lookit' all of these mirrors!"
They didn't have to share aloud their realization that it was Rhonda's vehicle. Squiggy seized her hand and dragged her across the parking lot, almost tripping Laverne on her own heels and dumping her face-first into the chapel's well-manicured bushes.
She managed to discover her footing as they ran through the chapel's spacious, ivory-colored halls, glancing into first one, then the second, then the third vestibule.
Only one was in active use, and this one, fortunately, contained a voluptuous blonde in a skin-tight, eggshell white sweater set and cheap, threadbare veil, accompanied by a tuxedoed, balding, slightly-over-weight man of about half her height, right before the pulpit preparing to take their vows.
Laverne's eyes misted over as she took in the sights around her and she was, once again, firmly with Lenny.
"...And should any party have just cause why these two..." Laverne admitted to herself that this was better than all of those soaps Shirley used to be addicted to as the priest rose his arms in a beatific gesture.
"I OBJECT!" Squiggy shouted, as Laverne tried to duck down behind the cheap folding chairs used in place of pews.
For a moment, the entire tableau froze; then the blonde whirled on her heel and pulled the thin lawn veil over her sharp features.
Laverne thought for sure that it wasn't going to be Rhonda underneath all of those layers. She was shocked to find out that it was. Yet she wasn't the same Rhonda that had gleefully flaunted her engagement to her just scant months ago; nor was she the hotshot actress with semi-credible connections. The beautiful blonde actress that stood before her wore a face ravaged with tears.
And stained by a bruise.
"Squiggy!" Rhonda hissed, her composure barely together, "What are you doing?"
"I think I'm savin' you a whole lotta trouble," He said, and without any added flair handed Rhonda the envelope.
Dick sprung into action, "You don't need to see that, Rhondababysweetie," The man pontificated, his voice filled with a saccharine falseness that made Laverne sick to her stomach. But Rhonda would not be stopped; she pulled the envelope open and took a good, long look at those pictures.
It would be the first and only time Laverne DeFazio ever felt pity for her actress friend. She and Squiggy bore witness to Rhonda's emotion as her expression turned from horror, to shock, to nausea.
"You...you said...that these were just for you...that no one would see Rhonda's..."
"They are, baby!" Dick said, his voice filled with an almost deathly sweetness, "All of these pictures are just to help you out!"
"To help Rhonda?! To help Rhonda become a...a common prostitute?! A nothing?!" Rage had taken firm control of her very being, "This wedding is over."
Squiggy snapped his fingers, "Hot dog!" He then dropped to his knees, in the middle of the aisle. Unfortunately, at that point, he froze, his mouth and eyes wide open and staring up at Rhonda's expectant form.
She rose a brow and waited for him to say something, anything. Dick strode up to Rhonda and grasped her harshly by the arm.
"You're making a mistake, Rhonda," Dick snarled, "Remember, you're a nothing in this town. Do you understand me?! A NOTHING!"
Rhonda jerked her hand from his grasp, "Dicky, you're less than a nothing. You're BELOW a nothing. You're a...speck of dirt on the Hollywood sign!" She smiled at Squiggy and took his hand, "Come, Andrew! Teach me how to live and love again!" With that, the twosome pushed past Laverne, who couldn't resist whispering to Rhonda "Nice Violet Bauregard, of As The Universe Collapses."
Rhonda gave Laverne and outrageous wink and skipped out of the chapel.
Laverne did the only thing she could do before exiting gracefully; stick her tongue out at Dick and run.
Squiggy and Rhonda sat together on two side chairs, looking for all the world like Dustin Hoffman and Katherine Ross at the end of "The Graduate", their grand gesture being done, they seemed to have no idea what to do.
"I gotta tell Shirl this," Laverne blurted out, and ran to a nearby pay phone. It took her two tries to get long-distance to New York; Shirley couldn't even get out a 'Hello' before Laverne launched into the dramatic story, pausing only to take a deep breath now and again.
"...And now Dick's stomping out ta his car," Laverne was giggling, 'This is so great Shirl! I can't believe you're missin' this!"
"Well, some of us have bigger things to do, like make sure that our daughter has enough loose-leaf paper for the upcoming school year." Shirley primly replied.
Laverne made a face, to the benefit of no one, "Aww, you're no fun today, Shirl. Isn't Lenny around ta remind ya what it's like to have fun?"
"Ummm...I'm not at...Oh! There he goes! Hi Lenny, you old scamp you! Ha ha!"
Laverne could recognize one of Shirley's lies from fifty feet away, "He ain't with ya, is he, Shirl?"
"Uh...well, he's...kind of...on a plane going to see you."
Laverne heard her own voice crack in excitement, "He's what?! To see me?!"
"I know you told him to wait here for you, but he was miserable around here without you. He spent most of his time with Veeny, talking about Jeffrey."
"Carmine's getting that bad, eh?"
Shirley's sadness reached right through the phone, "Carmine's fine."
Laverne sighed, "Shirl, I'm runnin outta time here," at those words, the operator interceded and demanded that Laverne deposit another dime, one that she didn't have on her. "I'llseeyousoontakecareofVeenybye!" She blurted out over the line, before the operator could disconnect them.
Laverne leaned heavily against the pay phone for a moment; though Squiggy and Rhonda's drama had provided her with some sort of diversion from her feelings, the entire time she'd been thinking about Lenny.
The very sight of the altar had nearly been too much for her. But she couldn't face him. Not yet. Because there remained one specter that haunted her heart and prevented a complete commitment in her love to him.
More assured than she'd ever been in her life, Laverne strode over to where Squiggy and Rhonda sat, talking amicably. "Let's get outta here."
****
"So an Athrophonicous Americanous is really just a phylum of the Kornol genus." Laverne sat in bemused shock and tiredness as Rhonda rattled off an elaborate name for certain type of moth.
She and Squiggy had been going on like this for hours, back-and-forthing what they knew about moths. It had proved quite a learning experience for Laverne, for during the trip she learned that, on the one subject Squiggy had ever bothered to learn a thing about he proved an expert.
"...Yeah, and the Kornol genus is part of the Wexworth species," Squiggy concluded. "They're the moths with the pretty little white spots on 'em."
Laverne couldn't resist commenting on the entire conversation as they pulled up in front of Laurel Vista. "Since when do you like moths so much, Rhonda?"
Rhonda smiled sweetly and remarked, "There's much more to Rhonda than just being a sex symbol," promptly shutting the car door behind her.
"Coulda fooled me." Laverne remarked underneath her breath. But then again, how could she judge Rhonda by her cover any more? Laverne herself was in love with Lenny Kosnowski, of all people...
She stood still for a moment, admitted to herself that this was true, and strode to her apartment, picking up the phone.
"Hello...how much for your next flight to Milwaukee, Wisconsin?"