STRIP CLUB

AMERICAN HORROR STORY: COVEN-fanfic. This was really just meant to be a little joke to a friend. Cordelia gets traumatized.
(not really much of a pairing fic, but perhaps Myrtle/Fiona?)

Read STRIP CLUB

Disclaimer: American Horror Story: Coven belongs to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk as far as I know, and I am of course just borrowing the ladies for a little bit.

Why yes, this IS just a little brainfart, written for the amusement of a friend of mine.
And no, I know nearly nothing about the things I mention, but… Wikipedia. So now at least I know a little more? ;P






STRIP CLUB
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson




Having come home to find that all other inhabitants of the academy were not only out, but at a strip club no less, Cordelia marched off in an indignant huff to corral her youngsters back home where she could scold them for irresponsible behaviour.

Upon reaching the club – and manhandling people out of the way to get to the loud throng in front of the stage where some voluptuously shaped but far too young women were gyrating to what supposedly was music – she had not expected Myrtle Snow to be the first person she would find.

“Yes! Yes, take it off, take it all off!” Myrtle cheered with the rest of the spectators, giving Cordelia deep scars to her psyche.

“Myrtle!” Cordelia gasped and grabbed an aging but finely dressed arm. “What are you doing?”

“Cordelia.” Myrtle was as unruffled as ever. “My dear, I cheered for the child to bare her bosom, it isn’t as if I asked her to cover it in finely tempered dark couverture chocolate, flavoured with a nice sauternes, and sprinkled with crushed honey-roasted gevuina.”

The redhead sighed and looked dreamily into the distance.

“That was quite a night.” Fiona sighed on Cordelia’s left, an equal look of half-lidded lust and nostalgic remembrance as Myrtle.

Cordelia slapped her hands over her eyes and in soul-rendering horror screamed louder than anything else in the building.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”













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Bonus:

Cordelia stared at the stage in horror: “MISTY! GET DOWN FROM THERE!” A whimper. “AND PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON!”