The Miss Cutie Patootie Pageant

BY : GeorgeGlass
Category: +G through L > The Loud House
Dragon prints: 21519
Disclaimer: I do not own the Loud House or its characters. I made no money writing this story.

The Miss Cutie Patootie Pageant

by George Glass

Summary: Lola secretly enters an underground beauty pageant. Needing an adult sponsor, she recruits her white-haired big brother to pose as her uncle. But Lincoln has no idea what kind of pageant this really is—or how far Lola will go to win it.

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Chapter 1: …and Also Think of a Shorter Name for This Operation

“Sorry, Clyde,” Lincoln said into his walkie-talkie as he leaned against the doorway of his room. “There’s just no way I can come up with the money for a PlayBox One P. I could clean Mr. Grouse’s rain gutters every week for a year and not have enough.”

“It’s no big deal,” Clyde replied. “We’ll just stick to games that are backwards compatible with your PlayBox Zero. I mean, we’ve only played through Zombie Resort and Spa three times; I’m sure there are some side missions we haven’t done yet.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Lincoln sighed. “I-”

“Lincoln!” he heard his mother call from downstairs. “Come take out the kitchen trash! It’s already above the rim!”

“I’ve gotta go,” Lincoln said.

“Catch you later,” Clyde replied.

Lincoln went downstairs and took out the massive bag of kitchen trash. He washed his hands in the kitchen sink and headed back to his room—only to find Lola waiting outside the door.

“Soooo, having money troubles, eh?” she said. “Maybe we can help each other out.”

Lincoln looked at her with narrowed eyes as he passed by her and entered his room. “Help each other how?”

“As it happens,” Lola replied, following him across the threshold, “there’s a certain pageant that I’m interested in entering, and…”

Lola reached back with her foot and casually pushed the bedroom door shut, then continued, “…I don’t want Mom and Dad to know about it. But I need an adult to escort me.”

“Why wouldn’t you want Mom and Dad to know about the pageant?”

“Let’s just say they don’t show this one on the Princess Channel.”

“Then how did you even find out about it?”

“Word of mouth. And the Dim Web.”

“The Dim Web? You don’t even have a computer.”

“I installed a Garlic browser on yours.”

Lincoln looked at her aghast, then pulled himself together.

“Okay, all of that aside, how does this help me with my money problem?”

“The prize is ten thousand dollars.”

Lincoln’s eyes grew to saucer-size. “Ten thousand dollars?

“Shhh!” Lola exclaimed, slapping a hand over Lincoln’s mouth. Then, once it was clear that Lincoln was over his outburst, she took her hand away.

“But you said you needed an adult to escort you,” Lincoln said. “If we can’t get Mom or Dad, then who?”

“You, silly. With that naturally white hair of yours, all we have to do is slap a matching mustache on you, and you’ll have no trouble passing for my uncle.”

“I guess that could work, but…we only get the money if you win, right? How do you know you will? You’ve never even entered this pageant before.”

“I happen to know that Daisy Darling, who won last year and was the clear favorite to win again this year, landed on her face in a pole-dancing accident last month.”

“What’s pole dancing?” Lincoln asked.

Ignoring Lincoln’s question, Lola continued, “Her insurance won’t cover the reconstructive surgery, which means she’s not even going to enter this year. That leaves the field wide open; without Daisy Darling in the mix, I know I can win.”

Lincoln took a deep breath and let it out. “Well then, I guess I’m in.”

“Excellent,” Lola said, rubbing her palms together. “Now, let’s talk about what else we’ll need…”


Nine days later, on a Friday afternoon, five of the Loud children finished wrestling their luggage and gear into the back of Vanzilla. Lola and Lincoln were joined by Lana, who had agreed to serve as prop master; Leni, who would be costume mistress; and Lynn, who would be Lola’s bodyguard and personal trainer. All would split the prize money equally after expenses were deducted per their agreement—an agreement into which they had all entered even though Lola had been rather tight-lipped about the details of the pageant, most especially the reasons why she didn’t want their parents to know about it.

Their father drove them to a hotel a few towns over, where the pageant would take place, starting that night and continuing through the next afternoon. Although it would have been cheaper for everyone to go home that night and come back the next day for the second half of the competition, Lola reserved a room, stating that it was imperative that they stay the night at the hotel and that this would simply be one of the expenses to be deducted from their winnings, along with the cost of costumes and props.

“Well, kids,” Lynn Loud Sr said as the five youths piled out of the van, “hope you have fun at the Miss Sweet and Wholesome Pageant. Leni, you’re sure you’re okay being in charge of these guys overnight?” he asked, clearly uncertain.

The Loud kids who were involved in “Project Pageant” (chosen after Lincoln’s suggestion—“Operation Enter and Win the Secret Underground Pageant and Also Think of a Shorter Name for This Operation”—was rejected for length) had been working all week to convince their parents that Leni was the most responsible, reliable, and trustworthy chaperone the younger Loud kids could possibly have. Clearly, though, their many comments on the great care she took with her sewing gear, the consistency with which she recycled, and the sedate and controlled pace with which she moved when holding scissors had not entirely done the trick.

Lola grabbed Leni’s hand. “We promise to do everything she says, Daddy!”

“Yup!” Lincoln quickly agreed. “We’ll be fine with our big sister watching out for us.”

“Well, all right,” Lynn Sr relented. Then ge grabbed Lola and pulled her face up to his. “Good luck, sweetie,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Lola said innocently. Then she turned toward a couple of bellhops who were leaning against the valet stand, talking to each other, and shouted, “Hey, flying monkeys! Less stalling, more hauling!”

“That’s my Lola,” Lynn Sr sighed with equal parts fondness and resignation.

Once the van was unloaded, Lynn Sr drove off, promising to pick them up at 4 p.m. the next day. The five kids followed the bellman and his luggage cart—fully loaded with Lola’s wardrobe and cases of props—into the lobby. Lola immediately hustled Lincoln into the nearest family restroom, the boy pulling a roller bag.

“Time to age you up, ‘uncle,’” Lola said once the door shut behind them. “Kneel down so I can work my magic.”

As Lincoln knelt to put his face at the level of Lola’s, the blonde girl opened her handbag and took out a little plastic box. Inside was a bushy mustache that was the same shade of white as Lincoln’s hair.

“Now,” Lola said, taking out a small plastic bottle with a brush inside, “I just need to stick this on you…”

She ran the brush across Lincoln’s upper lip, then pressed the fake mustache firmly against it. It tickled a bit, making Lincoln giggle—until he noticed the label on the bottle in Lola’s hand.

“‘Folberth’s Forever Glue!?’” he read aloud in horror.

“I just want to make sure your mustache doesn’t come off,” Lola said calmly, “no matter what you’re doing with your face.”

Ignoring the cryptic end to Lola’s statement, Lincoln demanded, “How am I supposed to get this thing off when we’re done?”

Lola shrugged. “There’s probably a solvent or something. Now, suit up; then we’ll go find the sign-in table.”

The girl left, and Lincoln stripped off his orange shirt and jeans and donned his blue suit and tie. Looking at himself in the mirror, he figured he at least might pass for an adult. He supposed he was about to find out.

When he came out of the bathroom, Lola, Lana, Lynn, and Leni were standing in a group, chatting. Then Lola took his hand.

“The registration table’s this way, Uncle,” she said with a creepy little smile.

Lincoln let Lola lead him around the hotel desk area to a back hallway lined with what looked like small meeting rooms. Near the end of the hall, they turned left into one such room, where two adult men with clipboards sat at a table. There were no signs, stickers, or anything else to indicate why they were there.

“Hello there!” said one of the men, standing up and offering his hand, which Lincoln shook. He was tan-skinned and had black hair with streaks of gray. “I’m Octavio, and this is Stan.” He indicated the slim, red-haired man next to him, who also stood up.

“Welcome!” Stan said, shaking Lincoln’s hand. Then he turned to Lola. “I take it we have a contestant here. What’s your name, little lady?”

“I’m Suzi Spice,” Lola said confidently.

“And who is this nice gentleman with you?” Octavio asked the girl.

“This is my uncle, um…”

Lincoln could have torn a muscle kicking himself. Here they’d come up with an elaborate disguise for him, but they’d forgotten to think of an alias to go with it.

Spice, Spice, what goes with Spice? he thought rapidly. Fred Spice? No, I don’t look like a Fred. Stan Spice? No, one of these guys is named Stan. Geez, I’ve gotta come up with something in the next couple seconds, or-

“Herb Spice!” Lola blurted.

She cuddled up to him, pressing her side against his. “He’s my sweet Uncle Herb.”

“Nice to meet you, Herb,” Stan said, smiling.

Octavio wrote something on his clipboard and said, “You’re all checked in. Suzi, you and the other contestants should be backstage at seven; Herb, we’ll see you at the cocktail hour. You have the schedule of events?”

“Uh-huh,” ‘Suzi’ replied. “I’m really excited! Aren’t you, Uncle Herb?”

“Oh, um, yes, definitely,” Lincoln sputtered. “I’m, uh, so proud of my, um, little sweetheart,” he added, awkwardly patting Lola on the head.

Stan looked at Lola and, in a tone that Lincoln couldn’t quite interpret, replied, “Yes, I would be, too.”


Lincoln and Lola went up to their room, which all five kids would be sharing.

“There were budgetary limitations,” Lola said by way of explanation.

“Oh,” Leni replied. “I thought it was because we didn’t have enough money.”

“When am I gonna get to build stuff?” Lana asked.

“And when am I gonna get to kick some butt?” Lynn chimed in.

“All in good time,” Lola replied in an aristocratic tone. “Lana, I’ll need you backstage in a little while. Just make sure that when you leave the room, you have some grease or mud or something on your face.”

“No problem!” Lana replied, reaching into her suitcase and pulling out a tube marked “Grease” and a bucket marked “Mud.”

“Lynn,” Lola continued, “I’ll be needing your services later in the evening. Right now, I have to get dressed for the evening wear competition. ‘Uncle Herb,’ you’ll need to go downstairs for the cocktail hour with the other sponsors.”

“Lola,” Lincoln said, “I may be older than you, but I’m still way too young to drink.”

“Just order a club soda. Anyone who’s ever watched a cop show will think you’re a recovering alcoholic.”


The cocktail hour was held in one of the hotel’s suites. Octavio and Stan were there, as was Brad Bradford, the pageant’s chief organizer. Lincoln and the six remaining guests—five men and one woman—were the sponsors of the pageant’s seven contestants.

Lincoln mingled as best he could and made an effort to learn everyone’s name. He also learned that he was not a fan of club soda. Although the cocktail weenies and little quiches were tasty.

“Now, everyone, if I may,” Brad Bradford said, tapping his wine glass with a fork, “it’s time to select our guest judges. In addition to Stan, Octavio, and myself, we will select three judges from among our sponsors. The guest judges will not vote on their own girls, but they’ll have a vote on each of the other six contestants.”

Brad held up a small paper bag and continued, “I have placed in this bag a piece of paper with each sponsor’s name on it. And the first judge is…”

He reached into the bag, pulled out a slip of paper, and read it. “…Buck Wylde!”

A blonde man with a slightly leathery tan raised his arms and cheered. He was the father of a contestant named Cat Wylde, and meeting him had made Lincoln realize that he and Lola weren’t the only people here using fake names—in fact, maybe everyone was.

“Our second judge is…Pops Gonzalez!”

Pops, a big, olive-skinned man with a black mustache, grinned broadly. He had introduced himself as the uncle of contestant Lolly Pop, and Lincoln wondered whether the man was any more Lolly’s uncle than Lincoln was Lola’s. Lola had described Lolly as the girl to beat in this pageant, as she had been runner-up after Daisy Darling the previous year.

“And our third and final judge is…” Brad Bradford announced, reaching into the bag, “…Herb Spice!”

“Whoa,” Lincoln blurted even as other sponsors clapped him on the back in congratulations.


Soon, Lincoln was in the front row of the hotel’s auditorium, seated between his two fellow guest judges. The house lights dimmed slightly, and Brad Bradford came out onto the stage, holding a microphone.

“Good evening, everyone!” he said. “Welcome, all of you, to the 2018 Miss Cutie Patootie Pageant!”

There was substantial applause and cheering from the audience. Lincoln heard a man sitting behind him say to a companion, “This thing is always the highlight of my year. Five hundred a ticket is money well spent, I say.”

Lincoln’s eyes widened. Who would pay five hundred dollars to see a beauty pageant? One for children, no less?

As Lincoln turned his head and looked back at the audience, his confusion only grew. At the previous pageants he’d attended, the auditorium was usually half full at most, and a substantial portion of the audience were the contestants’ mothers and other family members. But this audience, which filled almost every seat in the house, consisted chiefly of adult men of various ages.

“It’s wonderful,” Brad Bradford continued, “to look out at you all and see that this very special pageant is as popular as ever. But you all didn’t come here to look at me, so I will introduce our hostess for this year’s pageant. She’s a successful model who you’ll find in the pages of this summer’s Elizabeth’s Mystery catalog. Please welcome Miss Cutie Patootie 2009, the lovely, the talented, Mistyyyyyyyyy Mako!”

As the crowd applauded, a stunningly beautiful girl of about Lori’s age walked elegantly out onto the stage in a shimmering green evening gown. She was tall, slim, and Asian, with fine features and lustrous black hair that flowed down to her waist, and she seemed graceful even in the simple act of accepting the microphone from Brad Bradford.

“You like the older ones, too, eh, Herb?” Buck said, chuckling and clapping Lincoln on the shoulder.

Lincoln, only partly comprehending the comment, realized that his mouth was hanging open. He quickly closed it.

“Um, yeah,” he answered awkwardly.

“Welcome, everybody!” Misty Mako called. “It’s so great to see all of you here tonight. I’m excited to have the chance to be hostess to the seven gorgeous and energetic young ladies who are competing for the title of Miss Cutie Patootie 2018.

“So,” Misty went on, “without further ado, I’d like to introduce each of our contestants, who will be showing off their very best evening wear. First up, competing in the Miss Cutie Patootie Pageant for the first time…Suzi Spice!”

Lincoln hadn’t seen Lola’s costume for this event, but from his experience as a pageant coach, he assumed that this was going to be a typical evening-gown competition. Then Lola came slinking onto the stage, and all his expectations were suddenly proved dead wrong.

She wasn’t wearing an evening gown. Instead, she wore a blue, lacy garment that came only a few inches down her thighs. The last time Lincoln had seen anything like it was when he sneaked a peek at his mom’s Elizabeth’s Mystery catalog. Seeing such a thing on an adult model was one thing; seeing it on his six-year-old sister was quite another. He had to fight the urge to put his hands over his eyes.

‘Suzi’ was wearing blue ballet-type slippers that matched the negligee, and as she passed by Misty, she twirled gracefully, making the hem of the garment rise up to momentarily reveal a pair of lacy blue panties underneath. The crowd cheered.

“Your girl’s looking good, Spice,” Pops Gonzalez said, nodding.

“Um, uh, thanks,” Lincoln blurted mindlessly.

Misty called out each of the remaining contestants one by one. Minnie Barr was a redhead with pale skin and freckles, and although Lincoln guessed that she was the same age as Lola, she was smaller, making her look even younger. She skipped across the stage in a pink baby-doll nightie that was short enough to reveal her frilly white panties with every skip.

Cat Wylde, Buck Wylde’s daughter, had a salon tan and long, crazy hair dyed white-blonde. She strutted onto the stage in black stripper heels, a leather bustier, and black short-shorts, making Lincoln imagine her as a member of some sort of Big Wheel–riding biker gang.

Kimmy Cuddle was an adorable black girl with poofy pigtails. Wearing a lacy red nightie, she sashayed down to the front of the stage like a runway model, then turned around and bent over, showing off her perfect ass in a lacy red thong for a second or so—making the crowd cheer wildly—before straightening up and taking her place in the line that the girls were forming across the stage.

Polly Prancer was a cute Asian girl with a trio of freckles on each cheek and long hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a filmy black negligee whose fabric floated in the air as the girl leaped across the stage like a gazelle.

Sadie Godiva—blonde, blue-eyed, and visibly fit—emerged in a white nightie that was so sheer that her pink nipples and the little oval of her navel were visible through the fabric. Grinning at the audience, she took her time waltzing across the stage before taking her place in the line.

Last was Pops Gonzalez’s ‘niece,’ Lolly Pop. A pretty Latina with light-brown eyes and a pixie cut, she strutted proudly onto the stage in a silky black camisole whose hem hung just above the girl’s navel, and a pair of high-cut panties in the same shade of black. She held in her hand a red lollipop that she tongued saucily as she strolled across the stage. When she reached center stage, she bent over at the waist, showing the audience her body—and especially her tight little bottom—in profile as she put the lollipop in her mouth and bobbed her head a couple of times. The audience cheered and hooted. Then Lolly straightened up and gave the audience a wink and a smile before skipping to her place in the line.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Misty Mako said, “please give our girls a big hand!”

The applause and cheers were raucous. Lincoln could just barely make out what Buck Wylde was saying when he leaned over and whispered, “I’m gonna give ‘em a big something, all right.” He chuckled.

Lincoln, now even more shocked and confused, lamely replied, “Oh, yeah, definitely,” and elbowed Buck in what he hoped was a convincingly convivial manner.

After the applause died down, Misty said, “In a few minutes, we’ll be back with the question-and-answer portion of our competition. Don’t go away!” Then she and the contestants filed neatly off the stage.

“Excuse me,” Lincoln said to the other judges, standing up rapidly.

“Hurry back,” Octavio said. “You’ll want to write down your scores for the evening wear competition before we start Q & A, or else you won’t be able to keep up.”

“Sure,” Lincoln replied as he hurried off.

He went around backstage and saw that the contestants were all filing into a dressing room in the back. Leni was with Lola and waved as Lincoln came up to them.

“Pop-Pop! I didn’t know you were coming!” Leni exclaimed. Lincoln decided not to correct her. “Doesn’t Loli Spice look cute in her little nightie?” She turned to Lola. “I just hope you and the other girls are warm enough. It’s really too late in the year for summer sleepwear.”

“Excuse us,” Lincoln said to Leni. He pulled Lola out of line and hustled her to a corner away from the others.

“What the heck is going on?” Lincoln hissed. “Those costumes were…and, and the judges…Lola, I think they’re all pedophiles!”

“Well, duh,” Lola replied. “All child pageant judges are. Who else would wanna do it?”

“But…I mean…” Lincoln stammered, “this whole thing…”

Lola put a finger against Lincoln’s lips. “Lemme spell it out for you: This is a beauty pageant run by and for people who like little girls. I mean like like them. Every girl competing here today knows it and is totally okay with it. I didn’t tell you before because I knew you’d freak out, but you don’t have to worry about me; I’m totally on board, and I’m here to win. And now that you’re a judge, you’re gonna be able to help me even more than I thought.”

“How?” Lincoln asked, trying to contain himself. “My votes only count for the other girls, not for you.”

“I’ll explain later. Right now, skedaddle; I’ve gotta go change.”

Lincoln didn’t know what to do other than what Lola was telling him to. So he headed for the exit from the backstage area.

“Oh, and ‘Uncle Herb?’” Lola said

Lincoln turned. “What?”

“This,” Lola said with a wink, “is gonna be the most fun you ever had.”

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