Foreword
Good evening. Or perhaps morning, I'm not sure. It's about 9:00 at night while I'm writing this, so I'll just stick with that. Getting back on track, my name is Johnson Cipher, former district attorney for the city of Los Angeles. You may know my name from the trial of Bertrand DiBergi, accused of eavesdropping, attempting to sell government secrets, and in general being a jackass.
Bertrand's legal troubles began in 2002, when he heard that the band Spinal Tap was thinking about recording a new studio album. Bertrand convinced the band to let him film their creative process to make a new documentary by offering them 50 of the movie's profits and total creative control over the project. The documentary, "Spinal Tap: Undead at Stonehenge," was a critical and commercial success, but due to Spinal Tap's influence, it was little more than a concert film documenting the band's now-famous Stonehenge Festival.
Bertrand, however, had other plans. Throughout the filming process, he wore a microphone around his neck much like his father, Marty DiBergi, wore a secret camera around his neck during filming of "This is Spinal Tap." He intended to use these secret recordings to write a book that would expose what really happened during the recordings. When Spinal Tap found about Bertrand's plans, however, they promptly sued him. The FBI also launched an investigation against DiBergi, and charged him with attempting to sell government secrets. In 2005, DiBergi was found guilty and sentenced to twenty years in prison. The press then attempted to find DiBergi's secret recordings, but due to a hole in the US Constitution rivaled only by Catch 22, which may or may not actually exist, the recordings were delivered to DiBergi in prison. DiBergi kept the recordings on, or rather, in his person until he killed by a freak dodgeball accident in the prison courtyard in 2007. By means that are as far as I can tell are legal, I acquired the recordings, and have published my own book about what really happened behind the scenes of the tour. With that, as Marty DiBergi once said, enough of my jabbering, let's boogie!
Chapter 1: Back in Your Saddle
I walk into the studio. Nigel is tuning his violin while hitting a black Les Paul on the floor with his feet. Derek is off in the corner, wrapping a zucchini in tin foil. David calls everyone over and they start playing. After 15 minutes, everyone stops. I go up to Derek to ask why they can't seem to begin writing anything.
Derek: Our songwriting system is simple, really. For the first three minutes, we write down random things that pop into our heads. The next seventeen minutes, we rearrange these random things until they start to resemble a song. After that, we record it.
Me: Simple as that?
Derek: Simple as that.
Me: So, you're telling me that you never spend more than twenty minutes writing a song.
Derek: Nope.
Me: Well, then, how do you make sure your songs are of high quality?
Derek: Well, most people don't know this, in fact, I'm not even entirely sure Nigel knows this, but we write hundreds of songs every year. I'm talking like three an hour. Our theory is, if we do this process for about three years, we'll be able to filter through the rubbish and piece together a decent album.
Me: But during the seventies Spinal Tap was nearly cranking out an album a year. Are you telling me that those albums weren't very good?
Derek: ...No, no, no, you see, during the seventies we were almost always on drugs. I mean, just perpetually high as kites. That allowed us to triple our work. So, if you use the law of averages, it all evens out. Averages out, if you will.
Me: All right, well, this still doesn't answer my original question. Why can't you do that now?
Derek: ...I'm not sure I understand your question.
Me: I'm just saying, it doesn't seem like it's that hard for you to write a song. Why don't you just start doing it?
Derek: I dunno.
David, sitting in an armchair, suddenly jumps up.
David: We should go on another tour.
Nigel: Yeah, the "Back in your Saddle" tour!
Ian: No, guys, you can't do another tour.
David: Why not?
Nigel: Yeah, why not?
Derek: It's not that hard, Ian. I mean, all you have to do is call tons of arenas around the world, find transportation for us, our crew, and our numerous instruments, create the props we're going to use...
Nigel: Yeah, like a Stonehenge that won't get trampled by midgets.
David: Nigel, we've had this conversation before. They prefer the term "Little People."
Nigel: Well, why the hell do they want to be called that? I mean, it's a bit of a slap in the face, isn't it? If I was a midget, I'd want to be called, like, a big person or something, you know? A little positive reassurance or whatnot.
Ian: Guys... GUYS!
Derek: What, Ian?
Nigel: Yeah, me and David here were discussing the ramifications of the labels given to minorities in our modern society.
Ian: No, you were talking about going on another tour.
Nigel: We were talking about that, weren't we?
David: Yeah, we were. Well, sounds good, Ian. We leave it in your hands.
Derek: Make us proud.
David, Derek & Nigel begin leaving. Ian stands up, clearly pissed off.
Ian: No, goddammit, you're not doing a tour.
Derek: Why not, Ian? It's very simple; all you have to do is call tons of arenas around the world, find transportation for us, our crew, and our numerous instruments...
Ian: You already said that.
Derek: I did, didn't I?
David: Yeah, but you were absolutely right. Ian, why can't we do another tour?
Ian: Because you haven't written any new material in six years! Isn't that what you're supposed to be doing now in the first place?
David: That is a bit of a problem, isn't it?
Ian: Guys, trust me, it makes absolutely no sense to go on another tour. Hardly anyone saw you last time. Those people wont' have any reason to see you now if you don't have any new material.
Nigel: Well... that's what this tour could be for. Think with me for a sec. We make new fans on this tour, so that on the next tour, we have a built-in fanbase for our new material.
David: ...Which we haven't written yet.
Nigel: Exactly.
Derek: Well, it makes sense to me.
David: Yeah, so do it, Ian.
Ian: All right, listen up: As your manager, I will not allow you to kill your image like this.
Nigel: ...Well, that's not you decision, is it, Ian?
David: Yeah. I mean, the whole reason we fired you before was because you went behind our backs and did things we didn't ask you to, and when you did do the things we asked you to, you did a really shitty job.
Ian: No, I quit because you suggested that I co-manage the band with some ditzy flower girl that you were banging at the time!
David: Hey, me and Jeanine were in a deep and committed relationship!
Ian: Oh really? Is that why she dumped you after your acoustic album failed?
Long, uncomfortable silence.
David: That was a low blow, Ian.
Nigel: Yeah, why would you go there?
Ian: To make a point!
Nigel: What, that you're a jackass?
Ian: No, that you're not doing another tour because it would be... it would be... musical suicide!
Derek: I rather like that.
David begins tearing up, tries to hide it with his hands.
David: What, opening deep wounds that I had finally closed with years of counseling and experimental drugs?
Derek: No, no, not that part. "Musical Suicide." It could be the name of the tour.
Nigel: Yeah, with a couple of little dots over the S.
Derek: Which one?
Nigel: ...Both. Both the S.
Ian: No, you can't do that. The German Anti-Defamation League said that they'd sue you if you used any more "egregious umlauts."
Derek: Is that how they worded it in the letter? It is, isn't it?
Nigel: Yeah. I remember reading that thing and thinking, "Do the Germans really deserve an Anti-Defamation League?"
David: You know, that same thought crossed my mind.
Nigel: Yeah, I mean, I thought to myself, "These guys are responsible for the Hollycaust, the whole Munich thing, and that awful "Europe" band, and they think they deserve an anti-defamation league? Really, they brought most of it upon themselves."
David: I think Europe's from Finland or something, actually.
Nigel: That isn't all the same country?
David: No, it isn't. I know, I was surprised, too.
Nigel: Oh, well, whaddya know. You learn something new every day, I guess.
Ian: Alright, everyone quiet. If I agree to set up this tour, will you all shut up and leave me alone?
Nigel: Of course, Ian.
David: Yeah, God, you didn't need to bribe us like that.
Ian: Thank you.
Derek: Isn't it more fun when you cooperate with people, Ian?
Ian: Whatever, get out. I have a fucking tour to set up.
The four of us get up to leave. I turn around and see Ian holding his head in his hands. He looks up and sees me.
Ian: Go!
He throws a stapler at my head. I duck out of the room and slam the door.
Nigel: Hey, you got off lucky. My brain's still damaged from when he hit me over the head with that damned cricket bat of his.
Me: Very funny.
Nigel: What, did I crack a joke?
David: Welcome to the Tap, little man.