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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 ... 3 4 5 6 7 8 Next »

Second Chorus

Second Chorus
Sidewinder decided to do something different for their Battle of the Bands practice. For one thing, Zac had completely mixed up the band, putting himself on guitar, Cliff on bass, Michael playing the drums, and Tabasco singing. Another change was that, instead of painstakingly writing each individual part until perfection, they were just going to start playing and hope for the best. Luckily, everyone knew how to play all the instruments present (some, obviously, better than others) so, as Tabasco had said, “They might bleed a little, but our eardrums won’t explode.”
Cliff started out on the intro, a slow, almost sad melody on the bass. He suddenly started to pluck the strings with so much force that the band heard the strings clacking against the instrument over the sound of the notes. Michael joined in, positively stomping on the foot pad for the bass drum and pounding on the snare with both sticks, then began a loud tattoo on any surface that would make noise. Zac simply started to strum the strings while he muted them with his right hand.
“Okay, stop, stop!” Tabasco nearly shouted at the guys. After a moment, the instruments grew silent. She frowned a little and added, “Can we maybe take this a little seriously?”
The guys sighed, but nodded. After a moment of silence, Cliff played his sad melody again. This time, though, he repeated it a few times. After about two repeats, Michael hit the bass drum, paused, then hit the snare twice and repeated, so it was BOOM, pause, TUNK, TUNK, BOOM, and so forth. This carried on for a short time, then Tabasco whispered harshly, “Topsy-Turvy,” at the same moment when Zac slid his pick on the guitar strings.
And then, “Topsy-Turvy” was born.

The next day at lunch, Tabasco was filling out a packet for the Battle of the Bands that each participating band had to turn in. The first page was just a letter describing the event, the second asked for the name of the song to be played, or the lyrics if it were an original song. And then Tabasco flipped to the last page, and grew a little confused by what she found there. Half of the page had a bunch of lines on it with the words “Parent/Guardian Signature” below each line. Confused, Tabasco flipped back to the first page, which she had completely ignored, and skimmed through it. Towards the end, Tabasco discovered the reason.
“Looks like we’ll be playing at the Barrel again,” she declared to her band mates.
“Om a’an?” Cliff asked through a mouthful of pizza. He swallowed it and asked, “Come again?”
“I thought they didn’t want us back ‘til March,” Michael observed.
Tabasco tapped the packet. “That’s where they’re having the Battle of the Bands,” she replied. Shortly afterward, she grinned, “And it’s people’s choice…”
The Barrel of Monkeyz, or just “the Barrel,” was a well-known bar in the area, “famous” for encouraging bands of teenagers to play there. Sidewinder was a crowd favorite, so they played there once, maybe twice a month. The Barrel and Sidewinder had “worked together” so much that they had a sort of contract, which promised fifty bucks for each performance. Sometimes, when the band had nothing to do, they would simply go to the Barrel and play for free.
Michael grinned as well. “People’s choice? Ha, ain’t no way we’re gonna lose now!”
But Tabasco shook her head and held up a finger. “Not quite. If Cory enters, we may be sunk,” she said with a sad smile.
After a moment, the rest of the band nodded slowly. If anyone at their school was better than Tabasco at guitar, it was Cory Torres. He was a Hispanic boy, not very large, with a million unruly curls on his head, but he could get almost any sound out of a guitar. He was also a crowd favorite at the Barrel.
“Don’t worry, he ain’t doin’ it,” Cory Torres declared as he walked past Sidewinder’s table, a tray of food in hand, then he just kept walking.
“Okay…” Michael observed, then smiled again. “So, we’re in the clear.”
Tabasco suddenly noticed something. “Hey, where’d Zac go?” she asked her friends.
Cliff and Michael both looked at the empty seat usually occupied by Zac, and they too realized it was empty. They were both about to shrug when Zac suddenly appeared and slumped into his chair. He sighed, then declared, “Well, I’m single again.”
Tabasco rolled her eyes. “Oh, the drama…” she muttered, while Michael, trying to be a little more sympathetic, asked, “What happened?”
Zac sighed again. “I just told Kim that I’ve got a lot of crap to deal with right now, so I can’t really go out with her anymore…I tried to be as nice as possible, but she still took it a little rough,” he explained, then smiled sadly. “But it isn’t like she hates me now, she did let me hug her a bit before I came back here.”
Tabasco patted his back, smiling at him. “Don’t worry, ‘cause you’ll always have us!”
Cliff smiled as well and patted his shoulder. “You always have a shoulder to cry on here!” he declared, pointing at his own shoulder.
Zac rolled his eyes, but it was obvious he was in a better mood now. “You’re all insane…”

“Hey Kim, are you okay?” Tabasco asked into her home phone. After a small sniffle, Kim answered, Yeah, I think I’m over it now…”
Tabasco smiled. “So…anything you wanna talk about?”
Kim was silent for a moment, then asked, “How’s the band doing?”
This question surprised Tabasco a little, since Sidewinder was the main cause of Tabasco and Kim’s friendship getting messed up; once Kim started going out with Zac, she almost instantly disliked Tabasco since Zac spent so much time with her. This had made Tabasco sad since she and Kim had been good friends for a few years.
Tabasco shrugged, pushing the memories from her mind, then replied, “Well, we’re gonna win the Battle of the Bands next week.”
“Really?” Kim asked, genuinely curious.
“Yup,” Tabasco said, then added, “unless Metallica shows up or something.”
Kim laughed a little. “Yeah, ‘cause that is so gonna happen.”
Tabasco laughed, too. “Sweet, that means I’ll get to meet Metallica!”
Another half hour passed, the two old friends simply chatted, when at last Kim said it was her bedtime. So, Tabasco said. “Bye,” then hung up.
The next morning, Tabasco was sure that she had slept with a smile on her face.

Sidewinder stood in the parking lot of the Barrel, waiting. A few other bands stood around them, the occasional person moving to chat with a friend in another band.
It was eight o’clock at night, and there was a slight chill in the air. Tabasco, in her trademarked outfit and Flying V necklace, rubbed her arms a little to keep them warm. She sighed and shouted, “What the hell are we waiting for?!”
“The last band,” a random guy from a different band replied. He added, “They’re supposed to play first.”
Tabasco groaned; Sidewinder was scheduled to play last. Someone else groaned, and then a guy with a beard asked, “Anyone know some Native American band summoning dance or something?”
A few people chuckled, but most continued to simmer. As more time went by, one band unloaded some of their gear and began to practice. At long last, an older looking van pulled up, and Tabasco joined a few other people in a salute, raising their middle fingers to the band.
Chapters:   « Previous 1 ... 3 4 5 6 7 8 Next »

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