I'm a Song From The 60's (quantesque) wrote in thewardrobe,
I'm a Song From The 60's

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A Proposition

Twas late, one rainy Queensland night, when Amanda slid the door of The Wardrobe open. The occupants scattered like mice, their eyes unadjusted to the spooky glare coming from her computer monitor and desk lamp after being left alone and neglected for such a long time.

"Ooh, sorry babies," Amanda cooed, gathering them all to her and trying (with much effort) to hug all...twelve? Fifteen? - she'd lost count - occupants of her vortextual clothes hold. "I'm sorry that The Wibblers have been so absent of late, but we have had assignments, and coffee and random Squid Porn writing sessions..."

Alan snerked at her. Jason preened and took his shirt off. Tori tried to catch the butterflies that only she could see. The West Wing cast set her with a sardonic and intelligent glare. Ben, Better Than Ezra and Belafarinrod wove nasty, vengeful melodies about her in their collective minds. Susan smooshed cake into Amanda's formal dress. Clive broods, but this time with such gusto he almost passed out. Sean stopped filling out his dole forms to fix her with a look as cold as the Scottish Highlands. Alfonso didn't even try to ravish her, with much paaasssion and rudeness. The Order of the Jeremies, on order from their leader Sumpter, pegged oranges at her.

"Stupid Canadian and English brats," she muttered, shaking her fist at their scruffy ragamuffin selves. "Still, the girls and I have decided that you all need to be given more attention."

She stood up, and walked to the door where all The Wibblers stood, including Ashfae (come on, vortextual wardrobes do stem as far as the States!), and took her place among them.

"Does this mean we'll get to, you know, see the sun?" asked Jason hopefully.

"And dance about naked?" added Clive. Amanda leaned towards him, about to answer in her own special way when Cara pulled her back.

"Yes, that's what Amanda means..." - she spotted Clive and Amanda's hopeful expressions - "...bar the naked bit."

"We're all going to take you on The Wibbly Work Release Program," Melina took up, ignoring the fallen faces of Amanda and Clive, "Where you come to our houses and work for us for a bit."

"It'll get you out of this wardrobe, and you'll get to see more of us!" Weaves smiled, stroking Sean's head fondly. Alfonso stood up and leant against Cheryl and Kimberly, who rolled their eyes.

"More, more of your curvy, sensual, seeeexxyy paaassionate bodies, more of your nether regions, of your hot, wet..."


"Ahhh, yeeessss." He sat down next to Allison and kissed her. Janel and Brad rolled their eyes and began to make out, squishing Alan who raised his hand to speak.

"So when does this program start?" Ashfae shrugged and smiled.

"As soon as we decide what jobs we want done and which one of you to do them."

"Exactly. So are you all up for it?" Liz asked. The Wardrobe erupted in cheers, validating The Wibbler's new project and causing The Mexican to burst into flames. "I guess that's a yes. Let's get started then?"

Amanda winked at Clive and picked up Melina's Dunkin Donuts apron. "First dibs, girls. The rest is for y'all..."
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