Disclaimer: I own nothing

Disclaimer: I own nothing. –sob-


I was sitting on the couch, quietly watching a civil war documentary on TV. They had so many vital facts backwards that I

almost couldn't watch it. Rosalie and Alice were polishing hairdryers, Carlisle was at the hospital, Esme was at Home Depot,

picking up supplies to fix the wall Emmett had broken, and Edward and Bella were at Charlie's house. There was only one

other. Emmett. I didn't know where he was, and I probably didn't want to. He was by far the weirdest and scariest being I

knew. Emmett is hardly ever mad. He is always cheerfully stupid. He likes to play tea party and patty-cake, and dollies. I

shuddered involuntarily. I didn't want to remember the last tea party we had had. It had scarred me for existence. Alice had

come too late. By the time she had gotten there, I was already having another emotional meltdown. Rosalie had called me a

pansy. I remember sitting in the closet for three days afterward. I remember the time Emmett had painted my room black,

and the time he forced me to sing Christmas carols in July in the parking lot of the Thriftway.

I quickly pushed all of those awful memories out of my head. It never did me any good to relive the terror filled horrors

Emmett inflicted on me. Alice's clear voice cut through my twisted thoughts.

"Jasper, come help us polish hairdryers." I rose from my place in the living room and made my way to the kitchen where they
sat. I sat down next to Alice and picked up the hairdryer closest to me. It was blue with orange polka-dots. A polka-dotted


"I had it specially made Jasper. Be careful no to drop it." Rosalie said, judging my thoughts by the look on my face, I

suppose. Like I was enough of a klutz to actually drop the thing. That was something Bella would do, not me. I was the most
non-klutzy person I knew.

"Boo!" I had spaced out again, so I was unaware that someone was behind me. I shrieked, and the hairdryer slipped from

my grasp. Rosalie was suddenly ready to kill me, Alice's eyes were wide as she tried to calm Rose, orange and blue shards

covered the floor around our feet, and Emmett stood behind me laughing.

"You are toast, man! You are burnt toast with jam, dude! Rosy is so gonna kill you! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" I whirled around

shocked and furious at the sole idiot who could turn the most non-klutzy being in the universe into a total klutz. I took a

step toward my enemy, my most hated enemy. The enemy I hated so very much. He laughed again.

"I gotta go, see ya'll later," he said as he ran out the door. Before I had a chance to follow him, I felt a stone cold hand

tighten around my neck. Rosalie was looking at me with malice in her eyes. She dragged me upstairs and strapped me to her
vanity. I realized too soon that I was in for the most awful; kind of torture you can imagine. Actually, you don't want to

imagine it. She turned on Alice then. Her voice was thick with menace.

"Alice, you are going to leave now. You are going to go sit on the sofa until I release Jasper, and you are not going to help

him escape his punishment for breaking

my hairdryer. Got it?" her voice implied that if Alice tried to help me, the same fate would befall her. She shot me a pitying

glance as she left the room. Rosalie turned on me then, a bottle of goo that was marked as foundation in her left hand, and

a powder compact on the other. She smiled wickedly as she narrowed in on her victim. I had to say that a tea party with

Emmett didn't seem so bad now.

# later #

Rosalie had just snapped the twelfth picture of me. How many did she possibly need? So what if I was wearing a pink

miniskirt over my jeans and knee high go-go boots? It didn't matter that I had all kinds of make-up on, or that my hair had a

butterfly clip in it. The one thing she couldn't take from me was my dignity. As long as it didn't matter to me, my dignity was

still intact. She was probably going to keep the pictures until the next time she needed to blackmail me. I could deal with

that. I had been in the Civil War. Bullets had flown in my direction. I had been in the vampire wars of the South. New-born

vampires had tried to kill me on several occasions. I could deal with the wrath of Rosalie. Maybe. With the camera in her

hand she untied me and raced downstairs. I yanked off the hideously vintage clothes that covered up my incredibly cool

outfit and followed suit. Too late I realized that I had forgotten about the horrible mask of make-up that covered

my pale face. At least she hadn't painted my nails. I hurried back upstairs, despite Alice's giggles, and scrubbed at my skin

furiously. When I was sure I had removed all traces of the awfully torturous weapon that had been unleashed on me, I went
back downstairs. Alice was still on the couch, but Edward and Bella sat next to her now. Carlisle and Esme were standing

near the TV, and the blonde queen of cruelty was typing away at the computer. It dawned on me that she was

dispersing my pictures on the internet. My eyes grew wide as it sunk in. My social life was officially over. She was probably

emailing it to every werewolf in a 100 mile radius. My dignity was officially crushed. My eyes got wider still when I heard a

stupidly cheerful voice behind me.

"You are toast. You are burnt toast. You are so burnt. She's probably emailing that picture to every werewolf in a 200 mile

radius." I growled at Emmett.

"And Mike Newton," Edward's words cut my growl short. My dignity was crippled beyond repair. My eye started twitching; it was all over now.

"Relax, pansy," Emmett chuckled darkly. "You are toast." And then Emmett started to sing. It was the most disturbing thing I
had ever witnessed. He jumped up and down as his booming voice shook the house.

You should feel like toast, should feel like toast, should feel like toast.

Do you feel like toast, feel like toast, feel like toast?

I feel like toast, I feel like toast, I feel like toast.

I feel like jam, I feel like jam, I feel like jam.

You should feel like toast, should feel like toast, should feel like toast!

Everyone stared, awestruck. No one moved, and no one breathed; not even Bella. Then we all started laughing. Edward had
to remind Bella to breath, she was laughing so hard. I projected stupidly cheerful emotions to those around me.

The next day though, I received some very smug emails from certain vampires that are now on my hit list. Rosalie acted

innocent, like nothing had happened. I cornered Emmett outside in the garage after the sun rose. I smiled, but did nothing.

Then, out of the blue I screamed.

"Rosalie, come quick! Emmett is hurting you car!" I thrust a wrench into his huge hands. Emmett turned to see a scratch

down the length of her car where I had messed up the paint jod earlier. He was a goner and her knew it. I had revenge at



Rosalie was fuming. Smoke was blowing out of her nose and ears. I walked back inside to retrieve my bowl of popcorn. I sat

back and watched my dear sister do the dirty work for me. I quietly hummed under my breath:

You should feel like toast, should feel like toast, should feel like toast.

Do you feel like toast, feel like toast, feel like toast?

I feel like toast, I feel like toast, I feel like toast.

I feel like jam, I feel like jam, I feel like jam.

You should feel like toast, should feel like toast, should feel like toast.

I had soooo much fun writing this. Yes, the toast song is real. I made it up yesterday. We were playing a board game

when some body said "I'm toast". I had had too much caffeine, so I started singing, "I feel like toast, I feel like toast, I

feel like toast!" I was soooo hyper! OMG! I love every one who is going to review. That WILL be everyone, right?