Alright. Insert standard disclaimer here. I decided to upload this here, despite the fact Inuficcrzy's put it in her's. Hopefully I'll get a review or two. There probably will be another one coming soon! :D
They were bored. The poor biker mice had had enough of lazing around the scoreboard, so they'd decided to pay Charley a visit... And by "visit", they meant "stay for a week". The mice had brought Limburger Tower down twice, within three days, destroyed a fold-up table while playing Chess and broke into the bathroom when Charley was taking a bubble-bath! After banishing the trio out with some very fast glass ornaments, the trio were downstairs, when a battle for the TV remote began between Throttle and Modo. Meanwhile, Vinnie was poking through Charley's cupboards. Throttle spied the white mouse and frowned.
"Vinnie, get out of Charley-girl's cupboard. She's got personal things in th-" Throttle got cut off after seeing an odd album cover. "What have you got there, Bro?" Modo asked, the TV having nothing on. "I dunno, bros." said the white furred mouse, as he gazed at the album cover. "Looks like a CD, but much larger..." Throttle carefully picked it up, then flipped it over. "I think I know what this is... this is a record... they used these before CDs." The tan mouse's train of thought trailed off as he carefully slid out the disc.
It was about an millimetre thick with tiny grooves spiralling towards the middle. A large label, about three inches wide, announced the artist as... "Queen, huh?" Throttle mused. "what kind of a band calls themselves Queen?" The three mice were so deep in thought, they hadn't heard Charley come out of the bathroom. "A kick-ass band that wrote some of the greatest songs today, and I wish you furballs would stop looking through my cupboards." Two out of three mice blushed, but Modo did so brighter then Throttle. "If they're so great, how come we, the three studliest bikers in the universe, haven't heard of them?" Vinnie pouted mockingly. "Maybe they couldn't hear it over your constant ego boosting, Vincent." Charley replied. This little comment made everyone chuckle.
"Hey, Charley, mind if we give it a whirl?" Throttle asked, spinning the record on his index finger.
At this, Charley chuckled, shaking her head. "Sure, it's been a while since I had a night at the opera." All three mice looked at her with a very mixed up look, before Modo spied the album's title on the cover. "Ah, ok... Bros, the album's called A Night at the Opera." At this, Vinnie just looked confused. "Why would they give it a fruity title like that?" Throttle sighed, rubbing his temples. "Vince, shut up, will you?"
Carefully putting the album on the record player, Throttle observed Charley's music system. About 20 years old, the system had soldiered on through the 70's and 80's, giving brilliant service the whole time. Instead of a laser, it used a diamond tipped needle, but the rest worked the same. As the needle lowered, Throttle noticed Charley had curled up on the couch next to Modo, so he decided to do the same. Just as Vinnie was about to protest, the first notes of the first track rang out, so he shut up. The first few tracks seemed to run together, as the Mice tried to analyze the song's meaning.
The first seemed to be a hate letter, the second seemed to be a throwback to some early music. When the third track came along, Charley sniffled a bit. She had owned a 1968 Ferrari Daytona at one stage of her life, and it had killed her to get rid of it. Every time she heard that song, she had a little cry. I'm in Love with My Car rang true to her, as she'd felt that much passion for it. From her 17th birthday, to her 26th, she'd polished it lovingly, like Modo did with Li'l Hoss frequently. She'd make sure that nothing, no matter how small, had happened to it; and her care had paid off. She'd never had a crash. Modo gently wiped her eyes with a tender thumb, and she nuzzled into his fur.
Throttle just quietly watched the admittedly cute scene in front of him as the next track started. 10 minutes later, he remembered that, like a CD, you could only fit a certain number of songs; before, in this case, you had to flip it over. After flipping it over, he had a look at the cover. The 70's, as he remembered, was the era of long hair, glitter and brilliant music, and this album was no exception.
The tracks he'd heard so far were extremely complex, and very entertaining, the guys on the record jacket pictures all had long hair. The absence of glitter was only minor, but nonetheless welcome.
The first song on the second side was dark and stormy, an apocalyptic prophecy, riddled with echo effects and multitracking. An interesting departure was the mass multitracking of vocals in the middle, taking away the dark and depressing tone, at least for a little while.
Next came a ballad, that made all three mice's ears twitch with disgust, at least slightly. Modo, who was more interested in such tunes, frowned at his agitated bros, to make them sit down and shut up.
Listening through it, Throttle came to the conclusion that it was dedicated to a very close and tender friend. Later researching discovered that it was dedicated to the lead singer's former lover, so then it all became clear. Next came another 20's style number, which caused a giggle because of how absurd it sounded. Next was the one song all three mice knew, and considered holy: Bohemian Rhapsody. All three mice's ears swivelled to the speakers, to soak up every note. The moment Vinnie opened his mouth, though, Throttle clamped it shut, and made sure it stayed shut with one of his bandoleers. He knew that if Vinnie ruined this for Charley, she'd get pissed, but what Throttle didn't know, was that Vinnie had figured out that only the ballad had passed.
"You gonna sing, Vinnie?" Throttle whispered as Charley snuggled into Modo's arms in the first guitar solo. The white mouse shook his head slightly, then as Throttle undid it, the guitar cut out, leaving a quick piano harmony. Throttle flinched, then prayed. 'Please, Charley, don't kill me.' Then, it started. "I see a little silhouette of a man..." Of course, Vinnie joined in, leaping away from the, now, enraged Charley as she burst out of Modo's arms. Modo, wisely, didn't try stopping her as she careened around her living room, desperately trying to catch the white furred hurricane as he did the worst impression of Freddie Mercury in the universe.
She came close many times over the famed opera section, and, just as the first 'for me' rang out, Charley aimed, then smashed Vinnie straight in the privates. Throttle was seriously starting to wonder if one of the gods they had surely pissed off during one of their earlier interplanetary exploits put a curse on Vincent that prompts people nearby to hit him in the nads. If it was true, then it would answer so many questions of his.
Vinnie doubled over, then let out a dead perfect B flat... the same as the highest one on the song! As Throttle and Modo began to rock out, Vinnie collapsed in colossal pain, and stayed there, on the floor, as the song ended. As the last song kicked in, Charley stood up, stared straight at the record player; the record's cover resting against a speaker, and saluted. She saluted a masterpiece, a masterful band, and an fallen legend: Freddie Mercury. As the record ended, Throttle chuckled softly. "Vinnie, you can't deny it, you had that coming." All he got in reply was a soft whimper, as he heard Charley say from upstairs. "God save the Queen"