Fate, that capricious mistress, delivered Justin into the house and heart of his adoptive mother by way of his parents untimely death in a freak ferris wheel mishap that landed him and Molly in a Peruvian orphanage. Molly, whom Fate had always liked less, was sold into white slavery. Justin was discovered crouching in a field, dirty and whittling sticks into penises, by the woman that would take him to her ample bosom as her own: world-famous glamorpuss of magazines and movie screens, Ms. Angelina Jolie (fireworks, blow-kiss, ooh la la)!
After scrubbing the filth off of her new foundling, Angelina delighted in showing him off to her celebrity pals. His blinding smile, pretty blond hair, perfect ass, "ask him to spell something, anyone!"
"Pervasiveness," Julia Roberts suggested, flashing her giant teeth in a friendly, although mildly terrifying, grin.
"P-U-R-R-V-A-Y-F-U-C-K-U-A-L-L-S-I-V-ness," Justin said just to be a twat, even though he could not only spell but recite the entire dictionary frontward, backward, and in several languages. Everyone clapped in awe. He rolled his eyes and hoped Renee Zellweger was too drunk to beg to suck his balls like she usually did at his mommy's parties.
"Is baby tired?" Angelina murmured concernedly, stroking Justin's shaggy hair away from his face.
He nodded pitifully. "Yes, mommy. Baby want go nap-nap. 'kay thanks?"
"Oh my god, what the fuck," Angelina agreed, kissing him. "Will you let Julia Roberts tuck you in? She promises not to try to touch you in the bad way like Jennifer Aniston."
Justin winced at the memory, but acquiesced. Mommy didn't expect much of him, besides the inane baby talk and letting her bathe him on occasion, in exchange for her undying love and unlimited financial generosity, so he accommodated her requests more often than not.
Julia Roberts didn't try to put her hands in his jammies, but she did empty her wallet into his cupped palms to persuade him to meet her for coffee the next day. "I have been looking for a new best friend and also someone to teach me how to spell 'Pervasiveness'," she said. "You seem like just the guy."
"I don't like coffee," he said.
"They have those vanilla things that taste like milkshakes...what are they called? At Starbucks?" she asked.
"I don't know. I don't go to Starbucks. I don't like coffee," he said.
"I'm really rich and I can buy you anything you want," she said.
"So's Mommy," Justin said, sticking his nose up in the air snootily.
"Meet me tomorrow or I'll bite you!!!" she threatened, baring her humongous chompers.
"Holy shit! Okay, okay!" Justin yelped, diving under the covers.
"That's what I thought you said," she sneered, spanking the duvet-sheathed shape of him with both hands.
* * *
Justin and Julia Roberts soon became the very best of friends. Well, he hung out with her sometimes because she gave him a no-limit credit card. Same difference.
One day she said, "Hey, Best Friend For Life, want to come watch me make a commercial?"
"Not so much," Justin said, sketching her head impaled on a stake.
"Come on, please? None of the crew members believe I have a friend. I'll buy you a po-ny!" she sing-sang.
"I have a pony, bitch," Justin said.
"I'll buy you a-noth-er one," she sang.
"Mommy buys me all the ponies I want, bitch," he said.
"I'll let you slap me-e-e," she sang.
"I slap you all the time, bitch," he reminded her with a slap.
"I'll stop sing-ing," she sang.
"Fine."
When they arrived on set, Julia Roberts gave him a short but boring tour. "This is the soundstage, and that is a camera, and there is another camera, and there is another camera, and there is--"
"What's that?" Justin pointed to a combination Dry Erase/Cork Board on the wall behind the craft service table. The cork half was littered with Post-Its and push-pinned memos. On the dry erase half someone had scrawled in big, red letters: ERIN BROKOVICH IS A CUNT.
Julia Robert blushed and smeared it away, then showed Justin her dressing room. When they came back out, someone had written on the board: MONA LISA SNATCH and below it in smaller print: (IS A CUNT). She was frowning at it sadly as Justin laughed, but she suddenly whirled around and screamed, "HEY! COME MEET MY FRIEND!"
He turned to find sex-on-legs approaching. Julia Roberts introduced them. "Justin, this is Brian Kinney, a notorious sex machine slash ad-man whose tough exterior conceals his heart of gold. He hired me for this gig. He enjoys promiscuous gay sex, puns, and spending time with his son. Brian, this is my Best Friend for Life, wait, make that ULTIMATE Best Friend for Life, Justin Taylor. I told you he was real."
"How much did she have to pay you to pretend you don't want to stab her in the neck?" Brian asked with genuine interest.
"A lifetime supply of ponies," Justin answered. They grinned at each other and shook hands.
"Even though Justin is an artist and you are a notorious sex machine slash ad-man, I believe you to be soulmates," Julia Roberts said. "I think nothing of the age difference."
"I don't listen when she talks, so I didn't catch your name. I'm Justin Taylor, a hot young virgin whom will ultimately conquer the heart of a well-endowed heartbreaker that doesn't believe in love," Justin said. "according to the fortune cookie I got at lunch."
"Hello, Justin. I'm Brian Kinney, a well-endowed heartbreaker that doesn't believe in love...or cookie fortunes," Brian said.
"Nice to meet you, wanna fuck?" Justin said.
"Sure," said Brian. So they went into Julia Robert's dressing room and had sex for three hours. Then Justin conquered Brian's heart and Julia Roberts got hit by a bus. At her funeral, everyone threw fortune cookies onto her casket instead of roses.
"She would have wanted it this way," Justin assured the crowd, that was only there for photo-ops because they all hated her, before he and Brian rode off on ponies.
Fin
[icons] - wide_ocean made eight awesome icons inspired by this fic.
Feedback mcpofife or Julia Roberts will bite you!!
A/N: There's no excuse, really.
<3 mc pof ife
Disclaimer: I own nothing, least of all QAF, Angelina Jolie, any other celebrities, or white slaves. I feel lucky everyday to not own Julia Roberts or her teeth. No copyright infringement intended. No sue, 'kay? Thanks.