~*~ Miley, who hails from Westchester ~*~ Book one- Living ~*~ And you thought you saw the last of the cheeky dogs and cats...

[gwenstefani333]

(People, please don't make posts connecting this to The Clique series. This was inspired by the series, but it's not plagerising because A. There are A WHOLE LOT of differences B. I'm not using any of her (the writer's) material (the time and place thing isn't necesseraliy her work/idea, Westchester... a little ), and C. I acknowledge her here. So let's just clear that up now.)

IN STYLE BOUTIQUE
5:00 A.M.- 11:30 P.M.
Saturday, May 15, 2009

"THAT'S PRECIOUS CARGO, ALESSANDRO, PRECIOUS CARGO!" A middle-aged lady screeched. Loud enough to wake me and the cheeky cat next to me up. We looked at each other.
"Bianca?" I mouthed the cat who I'd spent a week with in a completely nerdy stranger's house before being put back into a box. The cat nodded her head. Suddenly, a sharp, silver metally thing stuck it's head out through the top of the box.
"WATCH IT WITH THE RAZOR!!!! One wrong move and these gems'll be priceless!" The same voice scolded again. After a few careful manuevers, the man was finally able to open the packing-peanut filled box with Bianca and I in it. Two ill-manicured hands picked us up.
"Oh my goodness!" The voice within the 50 year old lady exclaimed. She had a silvery blonde bob and coral pink full lips, suprisingly purple eyes like mine. She was wrinkled and withered, but those eyes screamed with fierce energy, she was obviously full of life.
"They are beautiful! Perfect!" She gushed. "What are we going to sell these for?" She questioned, still excited.
"Well," A man said, putting the razor down, "We got them for $3,000. Let's sell them as a pair for $4,500. We'll pay the guy back and pocket $1,500. We can buy a new Prada bag with that kind of money!" He sarcastically mimicked the lady.
"Watch it, your career is in my hands." She narrowed her eyes, then sighed. "But it isn't a bad idea- if I get close with the marketer of Prada, I can probably get a bag before it hits the market. We're the Westchester version of Fred Segal- they'll love us." She fantasized, getting off topic. She put Bianca and I in a glass box, where I could faintly see my reflection. Oh my goodness, I'm a cheeky dog. There are like, 8 of my kind left. Same with B. She locked our glass container and put us in a window. Within what seemed like hours, 2 cars for every 5 minutes become 18 cars for every 5 minutes, people started walking down the streets.

$4,500.

We'd be here for a long time. Only people with complete money to burn could buy us. And apparently, one girl and her mom had money to burn.

She hadn't been in here for us, obviously, because she came in through the left side, my window was on the right side. Her mother started to rummage through a dress rack. The girl was tall, beautiful, carried a Prada bag, blue eyes under Cocoa Chanel sunglasses. She wore a Ralph Lauren polo under a Juicy Couture sweatsuit, they were obviously rich. When she turned to B and I, her jaw must have dropped 9 feet and she signaled her mother. Her mother, exhausted looking, and her daughter came our way. Then the mother looked confused.
"Kaitie, your 15. Aren't you a little... OLD for Webkinz?" She raised her eyebrow.
"Mom, this isn't about Webkinz," She protested. "I'm allergic to real dog hair, how cute would it be to carry this puppy in my purse all day and hang out with her and the cute kitty in the house all day? Besides, it would make up for the obvious knock off Coach bag I recieved for my birthday." She snickered.
"It was a joke!" The mother laughed as they walked over to the count register, and started to inquire about us. The overwhelmed cashier (the middle aged lady) unlcocked our box and put us in a bag. Then the mother and daughter walked out and down the street.

(so...tired...please...comment...will...write...more...tomorrow...because...I...can't...stop...talki ng...like...this...)

[soccerox7]

What a cool idea for a story! Keep on writing!