Curiosity Killed The Oysters, He Replied

By Dr. Pepper 14

Summary: Cross-dressing is a way of life. Live and let live. It's not Jerry's fault that he's prettier than you.

Note: Age 15.

because every color of the rainbow is his color


"D'you think I'm pretty?"

Rachel rested her chin on her younger brother's shoulder as she looked at his bruised face staring at her in the mirror, his Victorian-like pale skin looking even milkier in the faint light.

Pretty? Yeah. More so than everyone else in the family, especially the men, seeing as they tend to prematurely bald.

Jerry still had a (absolutely lovely) full head of hair. Rachel has always been jealous because she got stuck with the mucky brown hair that wouldn't obey orders if you sent it to military school and he got the sunny, golden blond hair she had always envied of her mother. Jerry doesn't even care, he just lets it grow until it's this sort of long shaggy mess hanging from his head but she loves him and ruffled his hair in affection anyway.

"Gorgeous," she said, tracing the outline of a black eye and then his nose.

Jerry sighed and began to take all of his makeup (mostly stuff he stole from Walgreen's and his cousin Meg) out of his secret drawer, which was really just his computer desk drawer, dropping it onto the desk.

"Here, let me help you with that, bud," she commanded, taking the concealer from his hand.

She pasted it on thick over his bruise and by the time she was done with him she'd give anyone a million dollars if they guessed Jerry was a boy.


"I don't know about this," he said, tugging at the short skirt nervously, pulling on the necklaces around his neck. "Does this shade of pink make my butt look big?"

"Oh shut up," Rachel huffed, rolling her eyes. "And stop messing with your hose! It looks kinda suspicious- that and you're gonna rip 'em! They're mine, remember?"

"Sorry," Jerry apologized and immediately ceased his adjusting of the tights (which were obviously not made for someone with a dick), looking down at his high heeled shoes sheepishly. "But there's no room to breathe down there, ya know?"

She laughed and gave him a little wink, switching her purse over to her other shoulder.

"Get over it," she teased, touching up his lip gloss a bit. "If you didn't have the hairiest legs known to man, you wouldn't have to wear them." She paused in thought, finger poised over Jerry's lips. "Unless you want to shave…"

She gave him an expectant look to which he winced in response. And that was that.

"Okay, so let me see you walk," she said, twisting her finger in a twirling motion. "Show me what you got."

He looked around the alleyway that Rachel had pulled him into when he started freaking out ("Everyone will know I'm a boy! I look like a trashy, decaying prom queen!" "King," Rachel corrected.) to make sure no one was watching him make a fool of himself.

He blushed even though there was no one there or anywhere around.

He stuck his chin up high and walked to the other end of the alley like he was Marilyn Monroe on the red carpet.

He stopped and posed for pictures. After all, his adoring fans were screaming at him for more.

Wait, no. That was Rachel, and she was screaming at him to "Get your head out of the clouds, you freaking fairy!"

"Come over here so I can look at you," she demanded, pointing at the spot in front of her where she wanted him to stand.

He timidly stood before her, hands tugging at sleeves and skirt, twirling his fake hair in his fingers like it had always been his nervous habit to fiddle with his hair.

She circled him, nodded and whistled appreciatively, giving him two thumbs up (and she would have given three damnit, if god had given her three thumbs to work with).

"Not bad! You didn't even look a little bit shaky in those six-inch heels!" she praised, smacking him on the shoulder in a manly gesture. "But… a little less model walk and a little more normal, okay? You look great."

"Thanks," he replied sarcastically, rubbing at the shoulder she hit. "I've only been prancing around in mom's shoes and watching the Style Network since I was four."

"Don't be a smartass," she sneered, fixing his fake boobs when one of them went a little too far to the left. "Without me you are just a fag in fancy clothes."

"I resent that," he murmured, drawing smiley faces in the dirt with the toe of his shoe. "What am I now?"

She smiled and twirled around.

"A drag queen fit for a king."

"How do you expect to get in this place anyway? We're only in high school," he pointed out, hoping more than anything to get out of the situation he had allowed himself to be dragged into.

"Oh, that reminds me! I have a present for you," she squealed, eyes excited.

She pulled her wallet out of her Kate Spade purse, grabbed two cards out of it, and handed one to Jerry.

"So, what do you think?" she asked, giving him a sly grin.

"This is a fake id," he stated, appalled.

"Uh huh."

"It says I'm 21."

"Uh huh."

"And a girl."


"You're insane," he finally said, trying to give the fake id back to her.

"Don't you mean resourceful?" she said, fluttering her eyelashes, refusing to accept the card back.

"You really think they're gonna believe you're twenty-one?" he asked, looking at her obviously teenage-inspired outfit.

"Of course I'm twenty-one," she said in a ditzy voice and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Of course I'm twenty-one," Jerry mimicked in a girly voice, tossing the fake blond hair of the wig over his shoulder.

Rachel smiled a huge smile and set a hand on her hip.

"Well sugar, you have me fooled."


Jerry watched as the people in front of them got into the club no problem. He was about to walk in as well, when a big hand shot out, blocking his path.

"Show me your ids," the bouncer directed to Rachel and Jerry, who pulled them out calm and collected (though Jerry was having an internal heart attack, sweat dripping from his temple as evidence).

Rachel pushed out her boobs and Jerry smiled as the bouncer peered at the ids closely. He handed Rachel hers back but kept looking at Jerry's as if maybe it would reveal its secret if he looked at it as closely as possible.

He knows I'm a boy god! he knows he knows what do I do? this sucks, Jerry thought frantically.

"You don't look twenty-one," the bouncer said, looking Jerry up and down.

"Of course I'm twenty-one," Jerry winked flirtatiously, flipping the hair over his shoulder.

"Works for me, sweet cheeks," the bouncer grinned lecherously, grabbed Jerry's ass, and let them into the club.



Again, this is speedwriting. If you don't like it then you can kiss my ass. And if you do like it and still want to kiss my ass, then that's just fine. Also, Jerry didn't get bruises because he was beat up for being a fag and/or cross-dresser. That's just too cliché for my little heart to bear. He ran into a wall, okay? And then it got mad and beat the shit out of him.

To Ma Peeps: I'd like to offer you much appreciation.

magalina (I like them not gay-ish too. But I like Jerry's gayishness.) Para Noya (I hope your ass survived the fall! Hee. Thanks!) Sakru anglequeen (Can you see more of Jerry's personality here? He's supposed to be timid but with random bursts of sarcasm.) MartianAnimal (Thank you. And no! It's not weird at all! Cross-dressers are just cool.) Pundit (I'm torn between a response of thank you and ouch. I think I'll just go with both. I don't speed write everything. Definitely not Saturday Morning Cartoons. I'm glad you… sorta liked it? And I hate you too.) iamthe-loris (Hmm, well it's actually supposed to be flamboyant. He is a drag queen, after all.) Rachizzle (You are totally not a loser now. Yay! Cute!) Hell's first Icicle (Did you know that icicle is my favorite word? Anway, definitely feeling the love. Why don't you just love us both? I can share.) freaked (Thank you very much! I don't personally know any cross-dressers… anything I should know or am leaving out? Argh, they do look better in dresses, damn them! It's not fair.) Letty Merrylegs (How do I do it? If I told you I'd have to murder you in a very messy fashion. And I don't want to do that cause you always give me nice reviews. That's too bad about the milk…) Tums (I love the title too! Do you know where I got it from? Guess. Thanks, but I know people want me to write more SMC and I want to write some one-shots and it's just hard to please everyone. Obviously, I come first.) Keterah (Yeah, plots suck! And I love being called pet names like sweetie.) neutral tension (Thanks, it took me forever to perfect that first paragraph, which was actually just one long sentence. There were a million versions of that one part alone. I'm glad you found it to be realistic.) Twinkie-Chan (I know I know, I'm lazy. Being attacked isn't fun, but hey, do you at least get free make-up out of the deal?) Finger Dingbat (You went to Europe? You suck. I'm jealous. As pertaining to the title, have you ever seen the movie/read the book Alice In Wonderland? Does that help any?) SerialXLain (Yay! Here's some more for ya, sweet cheeks.) LadyFalcone (Yes maim/sir.) Aiku (Hee, that's funny. I hope this isn't awkward for you. Jerry was actually named after my friend's gay Uncle Jerry, believe it or not. Coincidence?)