Who: Michelle, too many kids, and OPEN What: The Kid Plot Kicks Off When: Saturday Morning, 5 a.m. Where: Michelle's house Warnings: Language, at least Status: Incomplete
Michelle closed the front door of house behind her--and immediately knew someone else was present. She shook off her fatigue and drew her pistol. She could smell...popcorn? And pizza? She crept silently through the foyer, cleared the living room, and then reached the great room. The house was huge, much bigger than her original home here, and still sparsely furnished. Only her bedroom and the great room were really complete.
She stopped in the doorway to the great room to gape at the sight before her. The flatscreen television was on, the screensaver sliding silently downward. Three teenage girls were sprawled on the huge sofa and the love seat facing the television. A half-eaten pizza lay in a delivery box on the huge coffee table, surrounded by empty bowls with the remains of popcorn in them, grease-stained paper plates, numerous empty plastic cups, and a forest of plastic soda bottles...and several of her bottles of liquor.
"What...the hell...is this!? Michelle demanded loudly. She reholstered the handgun, but kept her hand on the grip. The three girls jolted awake. Two sat up, looking startled and slightly guilty. One just smiled lazily and said, "Hi, mom."
"What?" Michelle felt flustered, her mind awash with suppositions and half-formed questions. The only thing she knew for certain was that this had to be more Madison fuckery. "Who are you? Who are all of you?"
One girl, with a rat's nest of dark hair, who looked about sixteen, turned to another brunette who looked a couple of years older and much more put together despite sleeping on the sofa. "Told ya!" she crowed.
"You were right," the other girl admitted. She looked at Michelle. "My name is Amanda. Amanda Webster." She let that sink in for a moment, before adding, "I'm your daughter. This," she pointed to the other brunette, "is Lola Webster-McCormick." She turned to the last girl, a younger blonde girl, "and this is--"
"Joy Lass-McCormick," the blonde piped up.
"*This is some real bullshit*," Michelle muttered in Japanese.
"*No, it's not. It's true,*" the first girl--Lola--replied in equally fluent Japanese. She laughed at Michelle's expression. "Yeah, you taught me Japanese, along with several other languages."
Michelle let her hand fall away from her handgun. She felt a little dizzy. This was, if true, the most fucked-up thing yet that Madison had done to her. She drew a deep breath, held it for a moment, then breathed it out slowly. It helped her to focus and push her emotions aside to deal with the situation in front of her. She tentatively accepted it as real.
"Lola Webster-McCormick? Your father is...Kenny McCormick?"
Lola nodded. "And you're my mother. I know what you're thinking. You can't get pregnant because you're immortal." Michelle didn't think she gave away her reaction, but Lola grinned. "This is Madison. Is it really so hard to believe you could get knocked up?"
"No," Michelle admitted. "I suppose it isn't. But it's still quite a surprise." She turned her attention to Amanda. "Amanda Webster. I understand why I might name a child Amanda. No hyphenated name? You're not another McCormick?"
Amanda shook her head. "No. You haven't met my father yet. And from what you told me growing up, he wasn't around very long."
Michelle laughed, though it came out a little shaky. "I don't suppose you can tell me his name, so I don't tell him to get lost when I meet him?"
Amanda laughed. "Terminator. Classic." She high-fived with Lola.
Michelle chuckled before turning her gaze on the blonde girl. "Joy Lass-McCormick? You're...not my child?"
Joy shook her head. "I'm Lola's half-sister. Kenny's my dad, but George Lass is my mom."
Michelle blinked. "George Lass? The blonde kid? The reaper?" George was undead, supposedly. That would seem to suggest that she couldn't have children, either. But...Madison. She waved the questions away. "Never mind."
She looked at Amanda again. She was definitely the oldest of the three, and the most...polished, somehow. "How do you all know one another?"
"We don't," Amanda replied. "At least, I only met these two tonight, when they showed up here a little after midnight. I was sleeping in my room here when they set off the alarm. I sat up--and found myself lying on the floor where my bed was supposed to be. Or...will be, someday, I guess."
"I would have had it in another ten seconds," Lola griped.
"You broke in?"
Lola shrugged. "We were out...doing stuff," Lola admitted, "and then suddenly it was now. So I boosted a car and drove us over here. It's parked in the garage. We met Amanda, and talked, and found your work schedule on the fridge, so we knew you were out and wouldn't be back til after dawn, so we ordered some pizza and watched a couple of movies waiting for you to get home."
Michelle snorted. "You boosted a car?" she asked Lola. "And you speak several languages." She grinned for the first time, seeing a little humor in the situation now. Maybe she was getting over the shock of finding these strangers--her children, most of them--in her house. "Sounds like I've taught you well."
Lola grinned. "Yup."
Michelle looked at Amanda. "What about you?"
"Yeah, I think you taught me a lot of the same things." She looked at Lola. "I'm just not as eager to demonstrate them, or cause trouble." Lola shrugged. "I'm an only child where or when I come from," Amanda continued. "They don't exist. Different timelines or something, I guess."
"So you don't--didn't--know them," Michelle asked, but "you two are half-sisters? You're both...from the same version of Madison?"
"Yeah," Lola said as Joy nodded. "You were banging Kenny on the regular for a couple of years, and got knocked up. And I don't mean friends-with-benefits, I mean, like, a couple. You had me, and then you and Kenny broke up. He started knocking boots with George, and then Joy came along."
"I...have no words right now," Michelle said. She liked fucking Kenny. He was fun in bed. But a serious relationship with him? That was probably the hardest part of this whole situation to believe.
"Pour me a drink," she said to Amanda. "I'll have it in a minute. But right now I need to send some texts."