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The Epic of Sidewinder

Author's note: I got the idea for Tabasco from a character I made on Guitar Hero, and the story just evolved...  Show full author's note »
Author's note: I got the idea for Tabasco from a character I made on Guitar Hero, and the story just evolved from that. Also, her little lesbian run with Diane, she wanted to do that. Tabasco "told" me what to write.  « Hide author's note
Chapters:   « Previous 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Next »

Second Verse

Second Verse
“So, are there any legit rules to the Battle of the Bands?” Cliff asked the others.
“I think it’s really just ‘don’t drop the f-bomb every line,’” Tabasco answered him, almost perfectly imitating their principal. She continued in her normal voice, saying, “Which isn’t much of a problem for us unless we cover one of Zac’s favorite songs.”
“Hey, those are amazing songs!” Zac said back defensively. It was true that he loved listening to songs where the “f-bomb” was dropped constantly, so he didn’t even try to deny that.
“Whatever. We’re doing Epic Phail anyway, so there’s no problem with that,” Michael declared. He reached into his backpack and pulled out the new-and-improved lyrics to “Epic Phail” and passed them to Zac. “It’s pretty much the same, but the chorus has been changed a bit,” he added.
Zac scanned the sheet, then pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his pocket. He handed it to Michael and said, “I like mine better.”
Michael raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, then took the sheet, unfolded it, and read it. A minute later, Michael shouted, “Damn, boy, where’d this come from?”
Tabasco plucked the paper from Michael’s hands and read it over as well. She looked at Zac and added, “Why you been holding out on us?”
While Zac was the singer, Michael was the head-songwriter, with Tabasco acting as his deputy. Usually, Zac’s original songs were terrible, so this was rather surprising.
“So, what’s it called?” Cliff asked after taking his turn to read it.
“Topsy-Turvy,” Zac answered, smiling. “And I have a great idea about how we should play it.”
“Let me guess,” Tabasco began. “I have to play naked.”
The band shared a laugh over that. Once it died down, Zac answered, No, but it might be a little hard to do.”
“And why is that?” Cliff ask.
“Because we’re going to mix it up a bit.” Zac pointed at Cliff, “You on bass.” Michael, “You on drums.” Himself, “Me on guitar, and Tabasco will sing it,” he concluded, pointing at Tabasco.
Who sighed. “Couldn’t have made it east, could you?” she asked.

The next day, school was out, so Tabasco decided to spend the day working. She had been restocking the display of guitar straps when someone tapped her shoulder. “Ma’am?” a slightly older voice asked.
Tabasco turned around and smiled, declaring, “How may I help you?” She found herself facing an older man who was maybe in his late-forties or early-fifties…and he looked really familiar.
He didn’t answer, but looked at Tabasco for a moment. Just before it got uncomfortable, he asked, “Aren’t you friends with a big bald guy who drives an ol’ Vee-dubya?”
“Yeah, and he bumped into this really nice guy’s truck a few months ago,” Tabasco replied, having recognized the man.
“I thought I recognized you,” he said, smiling. He held out a hand to Tabasco. “The name’s Steven Jacobs, nice to meet’cha.”
Tabasco smiled back, grasped the hand, and shook it. “Tabasco Smith, likewise.”
“Tabasco? Now that’s an interesting name…”
Tabasco shrugged a little. “It’s a nickname, really. Real name’s Suzette.”
“Aaah, I understand completely. My first name’s really Eugene, but I like Steven better.”
Tabasco laughed a little. “Yeah, I do, too.” They were quiet for a moment, then Tabasco asked, “So, how can I help you?”
“Oh, right!” Steven exclaimed. He thought for a moment. “I’m lookin’ for some instruments for my kids, and I have no idea what I’m lookin’ for.”
Tabasco’s smile grew. “Then you’ve come to the right place!” she exclaimed, then guided Steven towards the center of the store, asking, “So, what instruments are you looking for?”
“Well, Ellie wants some drums, and Brad wants a guitar.”
Tabasco nodded. “Are you on some kind of budget?”
Steven shrugged and said, “Not really, but I don’t really wanna leave here broke.”
“Alrighty then!” Tabasco declared, walking over to the corner of the store with the drum kits. She gestured grandly at an electric set, a mass of metal poles and a variety of round pads.
“I’d recommend an electric kit. Ours aren’t too expensive, and they’re virtually silent.” She sat in the little stool behind the kit, checked to make sure the headphones were plugged in, and played something, but all she or Steven heard was the “tick, tick, tick” of the drumsticks hitting the pads.
“I’ll take it!” Steven declared.
Tabasco smiled, said, “Okay!”, then pulled a small sheet of “PAID THANK YOU” stickers out of a pocket, placing one on a drum pad, and wrote a “T” on it.
“Alrighty then!” she declared again, rising out of the seat. “Now, for my specialty…” she added, heading towards the left half of the store, which was devoted entirely to-
“Guitars!” Tabasco exclaimed, once again gesturing grandly at the huge selection of guitars, ranging anywhere from worn-out, pre-owned Fender Stratocasters to brand new Gibson Les Pauls.
Steven scanned the selection, then sighed. “And I don’t know a single thing about any of ‘em.”
“That’s why you got me!” Tabasco said back cheerfully. She also scanned the selection, but with a more thoughtful air about her. After a moment, she selected a Jackson Dinky, strummed it a bit, then put it back, shaking her head a little, then looked some more. Suddenly, her face lit up and she smiled as she picked up a Fender Starcaster, the blue paint chipped in places, completely worn down in others. She held it out to Steven.
“This was my first guitar, I sold it to this store a few years ago ‘cause we were broke,” she said almost dreamily. “I’ve always planned to buy it back-”
“Well then, I couldn’t possibly buy it from you,” Steven interrupted.
But Tabasco went on, saying, “But I think she could use some love from someone besides me.”
“She?” Steven asked.
Tabasco shrugged. “Well, some guitarists nickname their guitars, and I named this one Lily, after my Gramma.” She chuckled a little. “I know this really great player who just moved here from West Virginia, and he has a guitar named Moonshine and a bass named Harper’s Ferry.”
Steven chuckled a little too, then declared, “Alright, I’ll take ‘er!”
Chapters:   « Previous 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Next »

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