Summary: The battle of the bands rages in a local nightclub, and our hero, Aang, is determined to win and get signed by a major record label. Obviously, this is a parody and a joke. Aang+Katara.
Author's Note: RedHawkK'sani's hilariously satirical Mary Sue story inspired me to write something in response. Obviously, this is a total one-off throw-away sort of thing, and there will be no additional chapters…
And Now … The Story Begins:
Aang narrows his eyes and grits his teeth with determination as he makes his way across the crowded nightclub towards the bar. He narrowly avoids a black eye as he nimbly ducks away from the flailing elbow of a pink-haired girl with chunky bracelets and a belly ring as she writhes with abandon to the loud pulsating beat of the music.
"Waddaya want," The bartender with a mullet (business in the front, party in the back) grunts as he looks at Aang as he flexes a large bicep to show off his dragon tattoo.
"Red Bull, please," he pipes up, and then grins and adds, "It will give me WINGS!"
But the Air Guitar looks anxious, as he thinks to himself, I MUST win the battle of the bands this time! Otherwise the reps from the record labels will lose interest and I'll NEVER get signed.
Aang knows what happens to musicians who don't land a record contract and keep doing the music scene.
"Aging Scenester Syndrome," he gasps in horror. Otherwise known as A.S.S.
He's seen them … 30-and 40-something guys relegated to the early time slots when nobody's even in the club to see them, who shave their heads to disguise the fact that they're starting to go bald, and who live on Ramen Noodles and sponge off their girlfriends because they can't afford an apartment on the meager salary they draw from their part-time job at the local record store.
Yes, these guys still call the places where you buy CD's "record stores." Sometimes they even actually have those gargantuan, platter-like things called "record albums." They need special equipment called "record players" in order to listen to these "records." They're so huge and heavy, you can only listen to music at home or some other archaic place like the Public Library or your mother's house where they happen to have a "record player."
Aang shudders with terror, and pats the iPod hanging from his belt to reassure himself.
Aang isn't too concerned about Blue and White Stripes, who had just finished their set. The brother and sister duo, Guitara and Sokka, have a striking stage presence and catchy, enigmatic little hooks, but they desperately need a bass player. Besides, Guitara plays in his band too.
And he rolls his eyes as he thinks about the previous band, Unagi, and laughs.
He snorts derisively, "Jeez, Suki. You're talented, but the cuddle-core girlie pop is SO mid-90's, and WHO does your make up? Siouxsie Sioux? Jeez, my PARENTS used to listen to Siouxsie and the Banshees back in the 80's!"
Aang frowns as the music fades. The next band has finished setting up and the lead singer is tapping the mic. It's The-Artist-Formerly-Known-As-Prince-Zuko and the Fire Lords.
This'll be a tough act to follow. Although their music isn't so great – just the typical grungy, melodic, pop with a death metal edge – TAFKAPZ has an amazing, kinetic stage presence that drives the groupies wild, and every one goes totally nuts when he swirls bolts of flame over the mosh pit and then burns all of the band's instruments in a blazing inferno.
Sure enough, the nubile young chicks go wild as they scream and rush towards the stage. True to form, the band almost sets the place on fire. The police arrive, find the manager, and threaten to revoke the nightclub's entertainment and liquor licenses the following day. But the manager merely shrugs and smiles mildly as he offers the officers drinks on the house. Obviously, the manager is used to dealing with officials threatening to take away his establishment's licenses.
Finally, the Air Guitar takes the stage with his band, the Last Earbenders. Which consist of Momo on the drums, Guitara on the guitar, and Appa on the bass.
"Greetings, Boston!" Aang calls out, as his fans cheer and obligingly flick their bics and worshipfully hold their flames aloft. The boy is amazed that so many people still have lighters, since nobody lets people smoke in bars any more. "I'm thrilled to be here at The Lizard Lounge tonight!"
He's totally got his chops down tonight. He electrifies the audience with his acrobatics and anthem-like riffs, and wins the Battle of the Bands hands down. Aang basks in his glory, as representatives from a host of major labels converge upon him and wave lucrative contracts towards him.
Enraged, The-Artist-Formerly-Known-As-Prince-Zuko storms the stage and sets the club on fire. Aang gathers Guitara into his arms, meets her lovely, blue eyes with his clear gray ones, and gently murmurs, "C'mon, Guitara. Let's blow this pop-stand!"