|Just Your Average Day
Author: InAMoment PM
My name is Rosila Daley. I'm 22 years old and the love of every man's life. You wish you were me.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Romance - A. Capone & Kahmunrah - Chapters: 3 - Words: 4,053 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 7 - Updated: 12-14-11 - Published: 11-18-11 - id: 7561815
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This is just my interpretation of how almost every fanfic for NATM2 seems to be. It won't be very long or complex (obviously) and I want to make a real story for NATM2 when I get the chance.
Note this is not to be taken seriously and I would appreciate it if people didn't flame me for it. :) Anyway, on with the story!
Ye be warned...
Disclaimer: I don't own any Night At the Museum characters.
Just Your Average Day
It was a cool night in New York City. The moon and stars shone brightly in the clear midnight sky as light chilling breeze blew through the calm but empty streets as people locked up and sent home for the night. It was just another typical for night for everyone at The Museum of Natural History, both inside and out. That is until a sleek, black, and clearly out of place limousine rolled its way up to the historical building.
The driver stepped out to open the door for the passenger, while the other, Charles (back up driver and personal servant) quickly popped the trunk and hauled out a huge rolled up red carpet. He dragged it out onto the ground and up the steps of the museum, popping a few blood vessels as he did so, and let one end roll down the steps till it stopped just before the limousine.
The driver opened the passenger door with a bow, just as a strikingly high-heeled Louboutin swung gracefully from the car, followed by perfectly shaped and tanned legs, up to the skimpy mid-thigh black long sleeved velvet dress that showed major cleavage but was okay because she also had perfect breast, up to beautiful bleach blonde hair and a features any woman would kill for.
Who is she?
Her name is Rosie-van-eva-kangeline. But everyone just calls her Rosila for short. She's Larry's adopted daughter.
Rosila pulled out her solid gold purse, that was also encrusted with diamonds, and put her prescription glasses away, just to replace them with her Prada's. You see Rosila is the most beautiful woman in the world, but she wears glasses because she is also the smartest woman in the world.
"Dad, Rosila is here!" Nick jumped up from the front desk with a huge smile on his face.
"I know, Nick. The entrance is right there, I can see through the glass doors." Larry pointed to the entrance of the the museum.
Nick's smile melted into an 'O' shape as he stared in awe at where his dad was pointing. Larry opened his mouth to tell him it was five minutes until everything came to life, but Nick cut him off.
"Dad, look, she's here!" Nick shouted again.
Larry face-palmed at his son's stupidity, when suddenly the doors to the museum simultaneously blew open with a loud bang as a small feminine figure stepped through. Both Nick and Larry had to shield their eyes when blinding sunlight erupted from behind her (which was weird because it was night out) and illuminated her perfect 5'6 womanly figure. She reached up and pulled a single pin from her hair, lightly shaking her head back and forth as she did so, sending her hair cascading down and around her shoulders in perfect waves.
The light died down and she removed her Prada sunglasses from her face, revealing two beautifully blue-heavily makeuped-half lidded eyes. She popped her strawberry-watermelon gum once and opened her perfect full red lipsticked lips to speak.
"That's hot." Came her stereotypical blonde voice, which surprisingly sounded a lot like Paris Hilton's.
Larry blinked a couple of times and rubbed his eyes, still seeing spots from the light.
"Yes, Nick, she's here, I know!" Larry shouted, exasperated.
Chapter 2 will be up very soon, but let me know what you guys think so far! Reviews are greatly appreciated. :) Also Rosila will not be THIS stupid throughout the whole story and I'll go into more detail about her later.