Avengers Band Geeks
"Face it Parker, you're not gonna be an Avenger." Clint scoffed, propping his feet up on the glass coffee table in front of him. "And would you mind moving out of the way of the TV?"
Spider-Man was pacing right in front of the television on the wall, muttering intelligible things to himself.
"Didn't you hear me?" Clint scolded. "I told you to quit it. You've tried every kind of test their is and failed each time! What are you gonna do, retake them?"
Peter froze as he remembered the written test. "No! Never again!" He faced the lounging archer. "But this time, I have an idea that's gonna knock your socks and shoes off all at the same time! And get me into the Avengers as an added bonus."
"What could that idea be, genius?"
"A marching band!" Peter shouted excitedly.
Clint's face contorted into surprise and disbelief. "What?! A marching band? You're kidding."
"No, I'm not doing anything of the sort. I will lead the Avengers in a parade as a marching band. If we sound great, I get to be an Avenger."
"If you're serious about this, I guess we'll do it. But only if you get the supplies and the location for our performance." Clint said.
"You can count on me!" Peter finished. "I'll drum up a winning band in no time! Get it, drum? Heh, band humor."
Clint put his fingers to the bridge of his nose.
DAY ONE
Spider-Man was dragging a wagon filled with various instruments and other music equipment to the unmarked building they'd be practicing at.
"Stupid music rental clerk made me late! That guy didn't know an oboe from an elbow. Heh, elbow. More band humor." Peter concluded to himself.
He swung open the heavy doors to find the Avengers, all in costume, sitting in chairs arranged in a small group of eight chatting, making the room kind of noisy. Peter pulled the wagon in front of the group and as if they knew what to do, grabbed instruments and stands.
Peter went up to the conductor's position where he faced everyone.
"Now that we're all here, does anyone have any experience playing a musical instrument before?"
"Do Pym Particle instruments count?" Scott asked, his hand raised.
"Uh, no." Peter answered.
"Is my fist in instrument?" Hulk said, towering from the back.
"No Hulk, your fist is not an instrument." Hulk raised his hand again. "Hulk Smash is not an instrument either." Peter finished.
"When thou we get the free sustenance?" Thor asked, a tuba on his lap.
Spider-Man shot a confused look a Clint. He shrugged his shoulders.
"Sorry, you're not getting any free food. So we'll start with a simple melody." He whistled a simple six note tune.
"Brass section, go!" A brass section consisting of Captain America on trumpet, Thor on tuba, and Natasha on trombone played the melody.
"Alright, now the winds!" The winds, which were Iron Man on clarinet, Ant Man on harmonica, and Falcon on flute, also played the tune.
"Now the drums!" With Hulk and Hawkeye on percussion, they put the sticks in their mouths and blew, the effort flushing their cheeks. The force shot the sticks straight at Peter, pinning him to the wall. "Too bad that didn't kill me." he said.
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"Let's just try stepping in rhythm." Peter said, holding up a silver baton in authority, but nervously. "I want everyone to stand in straight rows of two."
"Is this the part where we start kicking?" Captain America eagerly asked.
"No Cap, that's the chorus line."
"Kicking? I want to do some kicking!" Clint said, then proceeded to kick Black Widow in the shin with a grunt.
"Ow! Why you..." They got into a fistfight that carried them outside. It abruptly ended with a loud moan of pain from Clint. Natasha swung open one of the doors and returned to her seat without her instrument. The rest of the band was in pure awe.
Clint stuck his head through one of the doors. "Whoever's the owner of a white Sedan, you left your lights on." He began walking back to his seat, but his body was stuffed inside of Natasha's trombone, only leaving room for his head through the bell and his feet somehow coming out of the mouthpiece. He honked with each step. When he returned to his seat, the slide sunk down, producing a gradually lowering pitch to erupt from Clint's mouth. He glanced down at his body.
DAY TWO
"Come on people, let's go! Really step into it!" Peter commanded as his band marched on the street. "Step it up, flag twirlers!"
The flag twirlers Luke Cage and Iron Fist sped up their spinning of the red flags they held. "Keep it coming flag twirlers. Come on, lets move!"
They increased their twirling speed so much they took off into the sky and collided with an incoming blimp, resulting in a violent explosion.
Steve played a funeral song on his trumpet while everyone else held their hands to their hearts in mourning. Peter curled up on the street as blimp fragments floated down.
DAY THREE
"How's that harmonica solo coming, Scott?" Peter asked.
"Amazing! Do you want to hear it?" He tapped his belt and subsequently shrunk, the harmonica on a chair. He blew a note with great force, ran to the other side of the harmonica, skidded to a halt and also puffed a note there, then ran back to the middle and blew three notes there, all with the same force as the first.
This tired him out quickly. He sulked to a note a few spaces down from the first. When he tried to blow, only a buzzing sound came from his lips, his arms also flailing. Scott then collapsed, his tongue limply sticking out.
DAY FOUR
"Okay, this is our last time together before the show, and we haven't improved since we began." Peter said. His claim was evidenced by Bruce gnawing on one of his cymbals. "But I have a theory. People talk loud when they wanna act smart, right?"
"Correct!" Tony shouted to prove his point.
"So, if we play loud, people might think we're good. Everybody ready?" The band raised their instruments enthusiastically. "And a one, and a two, and a one two three four..."
The following noise was so loud, all of the glass in the building shattered, with Peter's baton snapping in two at the end.
"Okay, new theory." Spider-Man began. "Maybe we should play so quietly, no one can hear us."
"Well, maybe we wouldn't sound so bad if some people didn't try to play at ninety five." Tony taunted.
"What did you say, punk?" Steve retorted, shoving Tony.
"You need your ear horn, Gramps? I said you're too old to be playing that trumpet!"
"Well, this old timer's still got some fight in him, clarinet boy!"
"Bring it on, old man! Bring it on!" Tony challenged.
Scott appeared between them, a hand on each of their chests. "No people, we must be smart and call it off."
"Oh, so now the barely-an-Avenger's gonna preach to us!" Sam said.
"You think I'M barely an Avenger?" Scott shot back, cracking his knuckles and walking towards Sam.
"I know tensions are high..." Peter consoled.
But it was useless. An all out instrument war broke out. Steve and Tony charged each other with their respective instruments, only for both to skid to a halt in an attempt to evade Hulk's crushing cymbals, but it didn't work.
"There's a deposit on that equipment, people!" Peter shouted. But the mayhem continued with Natasha taking out a xylophone shield made by Scott. Clint again kicked her in the shin, but she retaliated by picking up Steve's discarded trumpet. He got the message and ran away screaming.
It all came to a sudden halt when the bell rang, signaling that class was over.
"Hey, class is over." Falcon announced. Everyone left their fighting stances and collectively strolled towards the doors, which flung open with a tearful Peter on the other side of them.
"You took my dreams, and crushed them. Crushed them into little, tiny, bite sized pieces. I really expected better of you people. But I guess I'm a loser for that too! Don't bother showing up tomorrow. I'll tell Fury you all died in a marching accident." Peter said. "So thanks, thanks for nothing." He finished while walking away into the late night.
"You're welcome." Clint said.
"What kind of monsters are we?" Steve asked. "That poor creature came to us out of pure admiration, and we failed him." He made hand gestures to match his words. "Peter's always been there for us when it was convenient for him."
He turned to Clint. "Clint, when your kids were trapped in that burning barn, who rescued them?"
"A fireman." Clint answered.
"And Bruce, when you passed out from too much gamma radiation, who revived you?"
"Some guy in an ambulance." The Hulk growled.
"Right! So if we all could just pretend that Peter was a fireman, or some guy in an ambulance, then we could all pull together and discover what it truly means..." Steve announced. "To be an Avenger."
"Yeah, for the fireman!" Scott cheered. He started the wave of cheers in compliance with Steve's speech.
"Now let's make Peter proud!" Steve exclaimed from Peter's old position on the conductor's stand, holding each half of the broken baton in each hand. "A one, a two, a skell-a-dell-a-doo!"
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"I just sure hope that Fury's not here..." Peter sulked to the street where they were supposed to perform. He was shocked to see Fury there. "Aah! There's Fury!"
"Where's your band?" he firmly asked. "It took a lot to reserve the street for you."
"They couldn't come, they...died." he lied.
"Then who's that?" Nick pointed behind Peter. He turned to another shock.
"Aah! That would be my band!" Peter exclaimed.
"We're ready to perform, Peter." Steve said, saluting.
"Let's just get this over with." Peter heaved. He pulled out a drum major hat and placed it on his head.
"And now presenting the Avengers marching band!" An announcer boomed as they marched onto the street.
"Okay," Peter said shakily. "One, two, three, four..."
Steve played an intro on his trumpet. The band stopped moving. A piano solo could be heard by their feet, being played by Scott. When he finished, Tony appeared with a microphone.
"Winner takes all," he sang. "It's the thrill of one more kill/the last one to fall," he paused. "We will never sacrifice our will!" The second half was introduced by Clint banging a few drums, followed by a duet of Tony and Scott on vocals, then Thor sliding in with a guitar.
Peter's jaw dropped at first, but he basked in the joy and went with it.
He succeeded. He was an Avenger.
