Smurdnunoc: Part Six

The absolute worst thing that could happen had happened. Standing in the back of the nightclub, all four members of Smurdnunoc stared in awe, mouths agape, at the sights and sounds of the club before them.

      It was a nightclub much like any other – dark, loud, and hot. The quartet found themselves standing in the back near the doors; in front of them was a large dance floor/pit, now filled with jumping, screaming, moshing Neopian Centralites. And just beyond that was what they were all moshing to – a stage occupied by four of the toughest, hardest, loudest, darkest rockers to ever to grace the stage since the four equally tough, hard, loud, dark rockers who had played the night before.

      They were all painted shadow to help give them a darker, scarier look. They weren’t playing notes and melodies so much as they were playing... noise. Loud, loud, loud, LOUD noise! Noise that amounted to guitar, bass, screaming vocals, and the loud ruckus of a drum-set being thrown together in a pot, stirred around until none of the individual sounds resembled themselves anymore, and then blasted out through the speakers in what amounted to the musical equivalent of mush. It shook anything that wasn’t bolted down, it deafened anyone who heard it (from its crappiness as much as from its volume) – and, inexplicably, it turned all of the young Neopians on the dance floor into moshing, screaming animals.

      In short, the mus— noise was nothing more than a guitar, a bass, and a drum-set being played as loudly as possibly, with some random shadow Scorchio lead singer screaming inaudible lyrics over it all.

      Up on stage, the shadow Scorchio was “singing” his heart out, though in actuality, it sounded more like someone yelling random sounds as loud as possible. “Rah idy-rah idy-rah idy-rah-rah-rah! Rhidy-rahdy shadow darkness ah-rah-rah!” he screamed into the mic, a vein in his neck bulging out as he jumped around the stage like an ape.

      “Lennert, I don’t think this is a good idea!” Hawkins shouted over the loud blaring of the speakers all around them. “Maybe we should just leave and forget about it!”

      “What’re you talking about?” Lennert yelled back, despite the fact that the two of them were standing right next to each other; they had to shout just to be heard. “It’s fine, Hawkins!”

      “No, Lennert, maybe Hawkins is right!” This shout of agreement came from Taphemor, who was standing on Lennert’s other side. “I mean, look at these guys! We’re like the exact opposite of them! If we go up there and play, that riot at the birthday party will look like a... well, like a birthday party compared to what this crowd will do! At least then it was just little kids – these are adolescents and young adults! They’ve got hormones and angst and everything!”

      “Oh, come on!” Lennert screamed in reply. “We’re not really that different from them, if you think about it! Just look!”

      They all turned back to the stage – just in time to see the Scorchio lead singer blow a long stream of fire over the crowd; the crowd, if it was possible, went even wilder.

      “Oh right! They seem exactly like us!” Hawkins cried, turning back to face Lennert. “Lennert, this isn’t going to work! This audience doesn’t want badly written soothing music they can relax to – they want badly written loud music they can go deaf to!”

      “Hawkins, listen!” Lennert shouted, turning to his friend and, for the first time in what may’ve been a long time, looking completely serious. “This entire time, every time I suggest we do something, you’ve been against it! And then, when we do what I suggest, it always ends up working out okay! So why, for just this once, can’t you just trust me?”

      Hawkins paused. For once, he was speechless. “...I...” Hawkins tried vainly to mouth a reply, but Lennert had a fair point – so far, he had been right about everything! Everything he’d suggested so far had worked out alright! And throughout the entire ordeal, all he – Hawkins – had done was stand in his – Lennert’s – way. Maybe this Lenny was finally on to something...?

      The Kyrii sighed, shaking his head and heaving a heavy shrug. “...You’re right, Lennert!” Hawkins yelled over the combined roar of the crowd and speakers. “You’ve been right about everything so far! So...” Hawkins took a gulp, in it swallowing both his pride and a little bit of spit. “Alright – we’ll do whatever you want!” Hawkins secretly hoped this wouldn’t be the end of them all.

      Lennert nodded. “Thanks!” Looking around, he realized that the certain green Pteri was gone. “Hey, where’d that little green Pteri guy go?”

      At just that moment, the Pteri was up on top of the crowd of moshing pets, crowd-surfing – and very much against his own will, too.

      “Helllp!” the Pteri cried out in horror as the oblivious fans passed him around the pit. “Oh please, put me down! I don’t like to surf! I don’t wanna surf! I don’t wanna surf!!!”

     ***

      The loud, screaming band was done, and the members of Smurdnunoc now found themselves up on stage, the curtain drawn between them and the audience, setting up in the dim pre-show lighting from the lights above.

      Lennert, who stood up front as usual, was staring off blankly at the black curtain in front of him, petrified. Finally, he turned back from his microphone to the rest of the band, his eyes anxious with worry, twisting his wings together nervously. From behind the curtain came the loud, senseless drone of a crowd already pumped up from the previous performance and raring for more. The sounds of excitement and high-energy clashed with the solemn look of worry and fear that now fell on Lennert’s face, the features of which were lit up and magnified in detail by the bright lights above, lighting up every small wrinkle and crevice in his face.

      “Well,” he said, his tone calm and solemn, completely out of character for someone typically so childish and hyper. “Everyone ready?”

      Hawkins, set up behind his steel drum set, raised his mallets in the air, nodding silently in approval. To his left, the certain green Pteri stood, triangle in one wing, playing rod in the other, ready and waiting. Finally, to his left stood Taphemor, who looked up from tuning his ukulele to give a simple shrug.

      Lennert nodded, then, wordlessly, turned back to the microphone and waited for the curtain to draw up.

      “And now,” came a loud voice blaring out over the speakers all around them, “everyone put your hands, paws, wings, and claws together for... Smurd... nun... noc... Oh! Smurdnunoc!”

      With that, the black curtain rose up and the mob down in the pit broke out into rowdy cheers and applause. From the stage, Lennert could look out over the pit below him; though it was nearly pitch black, cast in shadow by the bright lights focused on the stage, the Lenny could still make out figures, heads, and outlines of faces.

      Lennert looked back, face agonized with fear, and nodded at Hawkins, turning back to the mic as the song began:

      It started with Taphemor’s guitar, strumming a simple acoustic, high-pitched, two-note rhythm to set up the song, “Dum dum da-dum. Dum dum da-dum. Dum dum da-dum. Dum dum da-dum.” He’d played this twice when Hawkins came on the steel drums, purely metallic – not deep and bass-like like most drums, but more like banging on a garbage can – playing three simple notes in succession, “Dun din doon. Dun din doon. Dun din doon,” to help set the beat for the song. The certain green Pteri came in last, striking his triangle with his small metal rod on every one of Hawkins’ “Dun” to make the same high-pitched (and barely audible) “Ching!” no matter where or how he struck the instrument. The resulting melody was a mixture of soft, quiet, relaxing tune – in other words, the exact opposite of the loud, angry shouting band from earlier.

      Finally, Lennert himself came in and began to sing:

     “Ooh, a wiki-waki loo.

     A wiki-waki, waki-wiki, looki-looki loo.

     Oooh! A wiki-waki loo!

     A wiki-waki, wiki-waki, wiki-wake loo!

     “Ooh, a waki-wiki wii.

     A waki-wiki, looki-lacki, looki-lacki lee.

     Oooh! A wiki-waki wii!

     A wiki-waki, waki-wiki waki-wiki wii!

     “Ooh-oh! A waki-waki wii!

     Ooh-oh! A wiki-waki woo!

     Ooh-oh! A wiki-waki lee!

     Ooh-oh! A wiki-waki loo!

     “Ooh, a wiki-waki loo.

     A wiki-waki, waki-wiki, looki-looki loo.

     Oooh! A wiki-waki loo!

     A wiki-waki, wiki-waki, wiki-waki loo!”

      As the song ended, there was silence, dead silence – no applause or cheers, but no boos, either. Lennert just stood there, bright spotlight beating down on him, smiling a wide, nervous smile as he waited for something to happen.

      The seconds ticked by. Then suddenly, a lone clap came up from the audience. And then another. And another. The clapping rose up louder and louder, and suddenly the entire club was full of wild cheers and applause, as loud as – if not louder than – the cheers and applause had been for the loud screaming band earlier. Pets in the audience were cheering, shouting, screaming, yelling, whooping, howling, and making just about every other kind of loud noise imaginable that an audience member makes to show that they think the band on stage kicked major booty. Major, major booty.

      Lennert immediately relaxed, his smile shifting from worried and nervous to relieved and grateful. Looking back, he shot Hawkins a thumbs-up; Hawkins, too stunned to make a response gesture, simply shook his head slowly in disbelief.

      Somewhere out in the middle of the audience was a certain shadow Kacheek who himself had tried out for an island band not too long ago. He stood blank and expressionless against the rest of the cheering crowd, staring up at the band without reaction.

      “My gosh,” he spoke aloud, his voice monotone and unemotional. “That band is incredible. I’m feeling emotions I’ve never felt before. It’s as if my dark, empty pit of a soul has suddenly been filled with emotion and light; as if a warm sweater has just been knitted to cover my cold, lonely heart. It’s as though a burning fire was just lit and has melted away the iceberg my insides had frozen to become so long ago.”

      Back up on stage, Lennert turned and motioned, eyes bright and smile wide, for the rest of the band to join him up front for the applause and cheers. The three other band members made their way up to the front of the stage and joined Lennert up front in a line – Hawkins, Lennert, the certain green Pteri, and Taphemor – holding paws and dipping down in a big, simultaneous bow, which only caused another re-eruption of cheers from the audience.

      “See Hawkins!?” Lennert shouted into his friend’s ear over the applause, despite the fact that they were right next to each other. “I told you! Everything is working out just fine!”

      Pssh. As if.

To be continued...