She walked all the way up to the fence and realized it was a little too high to climb over. Well it was possible, but she was no acrobat, it would be stupid. Think think think...this was ridiculous. You get a perfect SAT score and you get defeated by a fence?
Voila, she was no athlete, but she sure was skinny as hell, she looked around and surely enough, she soon found a hole underneath which she could slip through.
She slipped through it stealthily, slowly writhing her way through the tiny gap. But she soon realized that she couldn't go any further. She pushed herself backwards, but she couldn't. Crap she was stuck.
"Hey what in the world are you doing young lady."
Uh-oh, she looked up and saw a pudgy man of 40 looking at her, holding a hose and a spade.
"Uhhh..."
"Damn, you trying to get in?"
"Well, uh no, I can explain."
"Oh really? So whatcha doing stuck under yonder fence here, with yer head facing inwards?" He asked lazily, leaning on his spade in that irritating way farmers and gardeners in movies always seemed to be able to do.
He probably practiced she told herself.
"Okay I can't. I'm sorry."
He sighed, and reached downwards, and pulled her through by the arms.
"Run along now missy."
Not believing her own luck, she moved on towards the mansion, taking her first triumphant step she felt a big hand hold her back.
Turning she saw the gardener with an irritated expression on his face, the other hand held out.
Oh right she thought, and took out her wallet and gave him 5 bucks.
He scrutinized the note.
"You sure drive a hard bargain missy. Only five bucks? Damn this job ain't worth it."
Her confidence levels horribly lowered, she crept on towards the mansion, she hadn't really meant to give him so little. But then, that was all she had in the wallet.
If only her classmates could see her now. Who knew she'd be breaking into houses after dropping out of college. Oh ho ho she'd been destined for greatness alright. A life of academic bullshit. Doesn't matter. 2 years on, she was here in Los Angeles, breaking into Princes' house.
Yes, Prince, the pop star. Who knew he paid his gardeners so cheaply. After all, purple rain sold so many copies.
Uhh..anyway, she gazed at the front door. She tried the knob. It was open, and she sauntered in, ninja outfit and all.
She wandered through the large mirror-filled halls and paused for a second. Ugh, her normally lovely blonde hair had mud on it.
She entered a room, and suddenly she heard Prince singing in the other room. Oh my goodness it was Prince! Actually singing! Right there, just beyond the door.
She panicked, how would she phrase it, uhh... hi? That would be wayy to weird. She composed herself. But then freaked out again. When in doubt, call somebody. That adage had served her well in the past.
So she whipped out her handphone in the middle of that exquisite room and dialled the first number she could think of.
"Hello mom? I'm in Prince's house, what do I do."
"What? Prince?"
"Yes the singer, I'm in his house, he's in the other room, what do I do"
She thought she heard the distinct sound of someone slamming her head against the wall through the phone but after 1 second she got a reply.
"Do what you came here to do." Her mother replied and shut down the call.
"What? What kind of cryptic chinese kungfu master answer is that? Hello? Helloo?" She shouted as the door opened and the lights came on.
She froze as Prince gazed in on the odd sight of a blonde girl in a weird black outfit coated in mud shouting into her telephone in the middle of his room. Not to mention his carpet.
"Uhhh...hi!"
"Uhh..."
"Oh My Goodness! Prince I mean.. I am such a fan of yours, I've heard all your songs bought all your albums and..."
Great, third time this week, Prince thought, he would have to speak to the gardener, he clapped his hands and summoned his bodyguards.
As the shadowy men surrounded her she suddenly realized why she was here.
"Wait, here's my CD, could you give it a listen?"
Prince was interested, he wondered indeed.
"So you aren't just another crazy fan?"
"Umm, yeah I was hoping you could help me produce my music." She passed it to him quickly.
"Oh, okay." He snapped his fingers and the guards started dragging her away.
"Hey wait!" She called out over her shoulder.
"Don't worry I'll give it a listen." This girl had attitude.
He sat down in his cushioned chair after he heard the doors slam and took a look at the CD-R the girl had given to him. Scrawled on the back, in atrocious handwriting was a single word and a telephone number:
Ke$ha
Labels: stories
