Another hour had passed, and in that time, David had received not one, but two more statues; an extravagant piece known as The Impatient Adulteress, and a more delicate piece christened The Hungry Vixen, both filled with sexual hunger that David found so enticing. His attention fixated on the pair as he had them placed into their new spaces in his gallery, Isabelle remained by the Harlot, scheming in silence.
"Mom?"
Isabelle looked up. Standing before her was Clarice, her fifteen year old daughter. She had apparently come straight to the museum from school, as she was still wearing her private school uniform; her arms were crossed over her blouse as she stood, gaping at the scene around her. "Mom, like, what the hell is all of this?"
"Your father has been busy with his hobby," Isabelle replied. "The fool is just spending money left and right on his perverted collection. Just look over there!" She gestured toward the Adulteress. "All of that gold and silver. Can you imagine how much something like that must cost?"
Clarice glared. "That is so unfair! How am I supposed to inherit all of this junk?"
Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, young lady?"
"Mom, I'm too old to play with dolls! What am I supposed to do with a bunch of stupid statues after Daddy dies?"
Isabelle scoffed, but inside, she was proud of her daughter. Only fifteen, and already thinking like a champion gold digger. "Well, Clarice. I've been thinking of a way to get even with your daddy."
"Like, really?" Clarice clapped her hands. Her bleach-blond hair bounced as she hopped. "What is it?"
Isabelle turned to the Harlot. "This slutty thing. I'm going to have it melted down and turned into a big gold frog. That should put a dent in his attitude, don't you think?"
Clarice giggled. She too apparently liked the idea. "Totally!"
"And I thought that we could use the extra gold for jewelry." Isabelle smirked. "Tell me, Clarice, how would you like some nice new earrings as an early birthday present?"
Clarice's eyes lit up with greed. "Ooh, Mom, that sounds awesome! When are we gonna do it?"
To the side, Harlot whimpered. She had grown to enjoy her new life as a statue that she barely thought of herself as Cheryl anymore. She just felt so good, and now not one but two jealous bitches were threatening her. No. No! I don't want to be a frog! David, please! Your gold-digging wife and that little tart you call a daughter are going to destroy me! Help!
Thu Aug 12 23:36:47 2010