Continue the Story 2011!
"Vass zees?" asked Miki Ando one fine Russian afternoon. Nikolai Morozov shuddered, covering up the piece of paper that he was writing on.
"Vat? No thing to be of concerning you, my leetle treepel-toe combo dollink," replied Morozov. Miki scowled and snatched the paper from his hands.
"Guess lees for inviting for wedding....Sochi 2014?!?" she read in astonishment "But you said we get marriage next year, latest! And for why all girls only names writing on zees paper?"
"I do not!" retorted Morozov, shaking his head and scattering droplets of hair gel. "Look, look, I writing men names too. See? Cinquanta invited."
Hahahaha. My favorite part is the hair gel.
I'd like to continue this but I'm not even sure exactly how lol.
Just write whatever you can think of to continue the story.
Originally Posted by blue_idealist
"Why are you inviting Cinquanta to our wedding?" Miki asked angrily. "I don't want anyone who picks their nose there! Plus, what about MY friends? I have some male friends I want to see me get married!"
"Whatever! Javier Fernandez is NOT coming," Morozov retorted. "I won't stand there and look him in the eye after all those nasty fans made up stories about you and him. The only way I'd possibly let him come is if he wears a purple suit with clown buttons like the magnificent one I got him for the short program last season, but unfortunately he informed me he burned that and will not be getting another one, so, his loss."
Miki rolled her eyes. "What about Adam Rippon? We're good friends." Morozov looked even more annoyed. "I don't want to see that guy again, ever! I'm tired of all these arrogant fools who just leave me after all I've done for them! Fools, I say!" He stomped off, throwing the list in the trash bin on the way out. He dialed a number on his cell phone when he got into his office, where he knew Miki wouldn't follow him. "Hi, is this Florent? I was wondering if you'd like to go out for some drinks," he said. He had noticed that Florent was really growing into a handsome young man lately, and thought maybe he needed a night out to get back in touch with his wild side. After all, he showed some sexy moves in his 2011 free skate.
"I'll be back," Morozov mumbled, waving bye to Miki as he went out the door. Miki began to cry and took out her cell phone, thinking about whom to call. Finally she dialed a number and was relieved to hear ringing and not Johnny Weir's voice mail greeting.
"Hello? This is Miki. Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh, Johnny!" she sobbed. "You have to help me!"
"Allo, who eez zis?" trilled Florent.
"Florent! Da! Is me, Nicky!"
"Ah, oui! How are you? And how eez your, how you say, leetle woman?
"My what? Oh, you mean Miki. Never mind her. I have request for you, da!"
"Oui? What eez it?"
"You must meet me in Moscow. Tomorrow! Da!"
"Mais non! You have, how you say, ulterior motive. I am not interested in zee love triangle!"
"Nyet! Is not for love traingle. You must come tomorrow."
"Well........I will get zee flight to Moscow."
"Excellent. Meet me in the bar. Eight o'clock, sharp. Da!"
"Mais oui. I will see you tomorrow. Au revoir!"
Florent hung up and went to book his flight. Little did Nicky know that Florent was the one who had an ulterior motive...........
Last edited by Marge_Simpson; 07-10-2011 at 08:08 PM.
Florent had always dreamed of Johnny. Always. He was his grand amour. And Miki, of course, told all things to Florent.
So Florent hurried to Moscow, only to see that his dreams were horribly....
I am not a good writer so i won't contribute...but someone PLZ PLZ PLZ write Shae Lynn Bourne into the story...i HEART her!
Florent came out of customs at the Moscow airport feeling grimy and grumpy. Mon Dieu! The immigration agents had handled every item in his luggage. And had had the nerve to laugh at some of them. So what if he had lipstick and mascara in his suitcase? He was a public figure (well, sort of) and needed to look his best at all times. And they'd groped and fondled him, searching for contraband. He wouldn't have minded if they had been good looking and muscular, but they weren't. They were chubby and hairy and smelled like vodka. Mechant!
Trying to get a taxi to take him to the hotel was a pain in his backside. He spoke no Russian (except for some curse words picked up at competitions) and the taxi drivers spoke no French. Finally he resorted to waving a 100 Euro note in the air while shouting, "No-Tell Motel, City Center!"
That did the trick, and he finally made it to the hotel. Leave it to Nicki to pick out the cheapest place in the city for their meeting. The tightwad! Florent was glad he had reserved a room for himself at the Grand Hotel Moscow. He wouldn't mention that to Nicki, though. Let Nicki think that he, Florent, would come running whenever Nicki snapped his fingers. Ha! Nicki would never guess why he REALLY came to Moscow.
But what the hell? Where WAS that sleazeball, anyway? Florent had jetlag and wanted to take a nap. Why wasn't Nicki waiting for him? Perhaps he was in the restaurant and not the bar? He would just take a quick look, and if he wasn't there, screw him. Not that he'd ever sleep with Nicki, of course. He had his standards. He was young and cute and buff. Nicki was middle aged and flabby. Quelle dommage! No, if Nicki wasn't there, the hell with him. He would go to his 5 star hotel and request a massage. From a nice looking man with bulging biceps. And preferably a bulging....
"Florent!" screeched a female voice from inside the restaurant, interrupting his fantasy. "Come in, mon cherie, I have wait long time for you!"
Merde! he thought. What was SHE doing here? This was going to put a major crimp in his plans.
But who was waiting for him in the restaurant? Why, it was....
Last edited by Marge_Simpson; 07-12-2011 at 09:13 AM.
...Brian Joubert's mother. What could she possibly want?? It certainly didn't take her much time to...
- Rep Power
. . . produce a crow bar and whack Florent's right knee with all her might.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!, Whaaaaaeee!?" yelled Florent (his accent even thicker than usual) as Mme. Joubert jumps into a car and speeds away. As the car sped away, Flo just made out the shape of none other than Brian Joubert himself!
Still writhing in pain, Flo felt someone picking him up. He looked up to see Nicky looking worried to death. As Nikolai carried Flo down the street, he. . . .
....Nicki cried, "Holy $hit! Thees woman, she is skatina! Beeg fat skatina! "
Florent clutched his leg and whimpered, "a what?"
"An animal! Beeg, fat bossy animal!"
"My knee!" wailed Florent. "Eet huuurts!"
"Da, da! I take you to my apartment. We feex you up, it good as new!"
"Mais non! I need a doctor, a hospital, rapidement!"
"Nyet! No hospital. You go to hospital, they cut off your leg! You come to my place, Miki feex it up!"
Florent was in agony and seeing stars. Would they really cut off his leg if he went to a hospital? He'd heard stories about Russian hospitals, but surely they were exaggerated?
"Okay, oui," he agreed. (Not that he was in any position to argue) "I go to your place. Where eez eet?"
"Is right there! Down zis street!"
Trust Nicki to live close to a sleazy motel, thought Florent. He was probably a regular patron. What a sleazebag! Hopefully his apartment looked better than the motel did.
Nicki hoisted Florent over his shoulder and hustled him through the lobby and into the elevator.
As Nicki attempted to find his keys, a door opened.
Florent looked up to see...........
- Rep Power
... a most beautiful angel, surrounded by divine light."Em I ded and gone to heven? Mon Dieu!" Florent thought. "I em too yong to die! Not ountil I get my Olympic medal and kick Brian's azz". However, the angel looked so beautiful and peaceful, that Florent started hearing the divine music of the spheres (AKA "You are not alone") and prepaired himself for the great journey beyond. He had forgotten all the pain, all his anger against Mme Joubert, all his very mixed feelings towards Nicky. But just as his heart filled with serenity, a voice broke the peace abruptly. Initially, Florent could not realise just WHAT was wrong. It took him more than a quadruple salchow rotation time to figure it out. Suddenly, he could understand Russian. Because what he heard was (spoken in Russian, of course) "What are you doing here, Elena? I told you never to come to the motel!". And suddenly, Florent's ethereal world broke up, as he realised the divine light was the neon lamp in Nicky's room and the angel still looked like an angel, but was no other than... you guessed right. Elena Ilynikh! And suddenly, everything came back to him. He now understood the horrendous conspiration he had uncovered. Because deep within Morozov camp a dark secret haunted everyone. Something so gloomy, so utterly unimaginable, that the whole world of figure skating would be thrown apart, if found out. And beyond the pain in his leg, beyond Nicky's sleezy hand touch, a thought dawned upon him. If he lived, he would fight the evil, he would dance it, spin it, step-sequence, +3 GOE it to death! But he could not do it alone. And with the speed of a Russian "до свидания", he knew, at that very moment who could help his crusade. None other than...
Stephane Lambiel. After all, he spoke French, but was Swiss so would have no preconceived Joubert loyalties. Maybe Miki could help convince Steph to teach artistry to both Miki and himself, reinforcing Steph's reputation all the more. If only FloMoDo didn't have to worry about Patrick Chan. And with Shae-Lynn (ta-da!) being a loyal Canadian as well as ex-Morowife, she'd be in the Chan corner all the way. Unless....
.....Florent was still hallucinating from the pain in his knee.
Mon dieu! He could not help whimpering, even if it made him look like a wuss. His knee hurt and he was having visions of angels and Ilynich and Stephane and goodness knows what. He had to get a grip on himself and figure out what had happened.
One second, he, Florent (who had bested Joubert at Worlds, he couldn't let himself forget THAT!) was in a sleazy flea-ridden motel, looking for that sleazy, god-knows-what-ridden Nicki. Then someone had whacked his knee. He had caught a glimpse of that awful cow, Mama Joubert, before he'd doubled over in pain.
Then Nicki had carried him somewhere, while he moaned and groaned and hallucinated.
Florent was able to see straight now, and told himself to focus. At once! If he did not clear his head, he would never get the chance to beat Joubert again, or get revenge on his bossy maman. Or take care of the business he had come to Moscow to do!
Florent looked up to see someone wrapping his knee. It was...........
"You!" shrieked Florent. "Take your hands off me, traitre! You are degoutant, a beast! You and your fat maman!"
"Mais non!" replied Brain. "Be quiet, I feex your knee."
"Menteur! You lie! You and your maman try to kill me. You are jaloux because I score higher than you! I am hot and you are not!"
"Idiot! My maman whack the wrong person!. Now stand up and see how your knee feel."
Florent got to his feet, glaring at Joubert. His knee felt much better, but he was not going to act grateful to him. Jamais! Joubert was a dirtbag and his maman belonged in jail. A sleazy, filthy jail with sadistic guards. Ha!
"See, eez better," said Brian.
Florent glared some more. "Where eez Nicki?"
"He say something about call-girl and run off," said Brian. "Tant pis!"
"I still theenk you are big liar!" sneered Florent. "If your maman do not mean to whack me, who she meant to whack?"
"I cannot tell....eez big secret!"
"You tell me now....or I tell everyone you sleep with Nicki."
Brian shuddered with revulsion. "No, please! I tell you. She mean to whack.........
Speedy," whispered Bronziebeej (see the 2009 story in the archives for the history of this nickname for Brian Joubert.)
"Cinquanta? Pourquois?" replied Flomodo.
"Mama's eyes, they ees all out of whack. Mama refuse to wear her lunettes. She see, vision deestorted. Theenks fat skeeny, skeeny fat. Theenks Speedy you, you Nicki, Nicki Speedy!"
"Good for me, sometimes," admitted Brian J. "I eat all I want, she theenks I am to skeeny, makes me extra pastries. Then when I train and get thin, she theenks I am too fat. Good motivation."
"How does whacking Nicki's knee help you win?"
"Facile! Ees pourquois, because...."