We'd found him. The dreamer. The chosen one. Well I thought we had. Meat had other ideas and insisted that he was a spy. Despite my consistent proving that he was indeed the man we've been searching for, she continued to fight the facts.

When we took the boy, Galileo, and his chick, Scaramouche, to the Heartbreak the rest of the Bohemians seemed to be on Meat's side. I tried to convince them by telling them that he called himself Galileo. Though she was behind me, I could see Miss Loaf pulling an expression that knew this wasn't going to help.
"He must've seen the fragmen's. 'e's a spy." Paul - sorry - Sir Paul said.
Meat was happy to see someone agreed, but clearly getting the feeling that her words were getting a bit monotonous. "This is wha' ah said." she told them. I knew she didn't trust newcomers. Well that's an understatement really. She hated newcomers, but she had her reasons. My last findings were just a couple of lost and desperate GaGas. We had to blindfold them and take them to the border so they didn't know how to find us again. That almost got us killed (again).

Despite her hate of newcomers, when Big Macca gave the call to kill the Galileo and Scaramouche I saw her back away from the crowd, as though she didn't want to be part of it.
"Look! Anyone who tries to kill this dude has tah come pas' me!" she stood from leaning against the doorframe hearing me say this. Her eyes lit up in thought of a thus challenge. My only weakness and she knew it. Not this time though. I was positive that he was the one. "He hasn't seen the texts." I said. "how could 'e? We guard them with our lives." literally. But once again little Miss Loaf wasn't having any of it.
"He says he dreams the words" she recalled, walking towards Big Macca as she spoke. I wasn't sure if it was helping me or her. So I told them that he called his chick Scaramouche. The Bohemians took it well, but the girl didn't.
"What is this 'chick' business?" she asked rhetorically. "Do I have feathers? Do I lay eggs?" I noticed a few of the others tilt their heads in curiosity.
Big Macca was clearly offended, so answered back "Ay! Lady. We believe there was a time where if a dude wished to refer to his red hot mama, he would use the term 'chick'." I saw Meat look at me. "As a mark of respect." she mouthed the words in perfect synchronisation as they were being said. "Second only to 'bitch'." The girl looked at Sir Paul with confused, but humoured eyes.
"Somethin' tells me you got that wrong." she said. Meat had an expression of agreement. I had only just noticed that she had moved back to the entrance. Leaning against the frame with her hands placed lightly behind her back. She was watching the scene with cautious eyes. If a fight ever broke out, she would be the one to break it apart. Innocent as she appeared, she could get dangerously violent when lives were at stake. Especially if it was a fellow rebel.

"Yeah well we're ge'in off the poin'! Alrigh'. The poin' is this dude is a spy!" now I see where Meat gets her stubbornness from. Meatloaf and Paul weren't related by blood, but when he found the girl close to dead in a gutter somewhere he brought her up as his own. Finally the boy spoke up.
"Look! I didn't have to be brought here! I don't know who you people are, or anything about your stupid text." I was tempted to punch him myself for that. It might not have been wise to call the fragments stupid in a room full of Bohemians. I saw the face of every one of them ignite with anger. Meat and Macca especially. He had taught her the texts as a child, she knew them all by heart. To say she had a gift would be an understatement.
"Look! 'e just knows the stuff." I got across, before the team of rebels aimed to kill Galileo again. "It's in 'is head."
"What are these texts anyway?" he couldn't have asked that before he called them stupid could he.

After we listened to Sir Paul McCartney's explanation of a The Texts everyone was a bit more comfortable with Galileo and Scaramouche. So we introduced our full and proper names. Except the two who always had to be different.
"Ah'm Meat. Meatloaf."
"And I'm Sir Paul McCartney. They call me Big macca."
Actually three. "They call me Bob. Bob the poet, Bob the rebel, Bob the prophet. I am Bob The Builder." Then again I can't speak. I did go a bit overboard on my introduction. But Galileo did ask.
"Me? I'm the biggest, baddest, meanest, nastiest, most raving, rapping, sick punk, heavy me'al, psycho basta'd, tha' ever go' get down funky." bit overdone. "They call me" - pause for dramatic affect - "Britney Spears."

Galileo then asked about the Heartbreak Hotel. Big Macca began to explain, before interupted by Scaramouche. "Where do you get all this stuff? You look fantastic!" and, naturally, Meatloaf answers.
"We find it. We're scavengers." sure it was a true statement, but she didn't need to express it with such pride. "Fancy a makeover." more statement than question. "Well yah're a Bohemian now." first time I heard her say that to a newcomer.
"Well..." I could tell the girl liked her homemade dress, but still Meat insisted.
"How 'bout some tigh' jeans?" nope she hated her bum. "A shor' skir'?" nope she hated her legs. "A crop top?" nope hated her stomach and her hips.
"Don't mind my arms." Scaramouche suggested. "But not sure 'bout my hands." she counteracted. Meat thought for a moment.
"So you need somethin' that accentuates you're elbows." she joked. After a small smile of amusement at her own joke Big Macca cut in the fun.
"Girls!" every female in the Heartbreak turned their head towards Paul. Focussing on the two he was aiming for he said "I am talking to The Man here." I had convinced them. If Sir Paul thought he was The Dreamer, most likely, they all did.
"That makes a changed from talkin' ou' yah bum." Meat was humoured by something. It was very odd, she wasn't usually like this around newcomers, but it was better than her stubbornness earlier. "Go on hen ah've got loads'a stuff back there, jus' have a laugh."
"It'll be you lot 'avin' the laugh." Scaramouche noted.
"As I was saying..." Paul said, regaining Galileo's attention. And he then explained about the long dead king, Pelvis. He continued with how many other kings and heroes died after. Meat's eyes began to tear. She didn't fear death, but talking about all those who died seemed to bring the images to life in her mind. Like I said, gifted. But she used her sorrow and channelled it into a sort of prayer to those who had died. I could see the awestruck face of The Dreamer across the room from me. The song brought the images out of her mind for her to share and it was as if everyone else could see what she could.

Macca knew Meat's openness would only last a day or so, but he could have been a bit more lenient in his words. "Let's not get heavy 'bout it 'ay?" but he redeemed himself with reason. "Not what the rock gods would have wanted."
Scaramouche appeared at this point and compliments rang all around about her new look. "Totally rock'n'roll." Meat said.
"They're right Scaramouche," Galileo said, "you do look totally 'rock'n'roll'." Then he asked what rock and roll was. After a quick introduction to the three basics of rock'n'roll; style, rebellion, and freedom, he asked "Yeah, but what actually is it?" Paul said that we didn't know and that we only know that there came a day that rock and roll died. But in time a man would arrive and save rock and roll.
"And if Britney's right, you're the man that will find it." what did he mean 'if Britney's right'?
We showed our two new rebels our instruments, and began to play a tune. Crazy Little Thing Called Love was one of mine and Meatloaf's favourite songs, due to the strange ways of interpreting what love is. We sang and danced deep into the night. A few of us might have had a couple bottles of beer, I couldn't say. Meat was intent on staying completely sober though, she still felt slightly uncomfortable around Galileo.