A/N: I was really surprised that anybody cared about this at all. It was a lot of fun to write, but I didn't expect any sort of response. I don't generally write funny stuff. There might be a little humor, but I don't do silly, or at least I didn't until my teacher challenged me to get outside the box. I'm glad I did.
The Tone-Deaf Kid
I waited with baited breath for the Music Man to resurface after our last encounter, but I didn't hear of him again for months. I was renting a small apartment on the West End, selling bagels to pay the rent. It had been far too long since my last plan, but I was ready for a new adventure. The Music Man may have gone into hiding, but I knew how to drag him out of his retirement. All that would be necessary was destroying the most beautiful voice in New York, his city of choice. And whose voice was that? None other than Melody Dixon, the leading soprano of the Metropolitan Opera House.
My plan was simply this: I would go to her house every night and point my supersonic tone-deaf ray gun at her throat as she slept. She would be unable to sing a single note on key. Rumors would soon circulate about her lost voice and the inability of anyone to figure out what had happened to her. It would be only a matter of time before my enemy would run to her rescue and save her voice.
Knowing The Music Man, he would have her ready to sing before the opening of Puccini's La Boheme. New York's most beloved soprano of New York's most beloved Opera House was scheduled to sing the most beloved part in its most beloved opera. It would be my most dastardly plot ever. I would be at that performance, and I would finally take down the fly that had been buzzing around my head for years, the fly in that tight, black spandex suit.
I knew nothing about my enemy except that he had the most amazing singing voice the world had ever heard, and that his talent with the organ and violin equaled his voice. I'd bet everything I own that Simon Cowell wouldn't have insulted him the way he had insulted me at my audition. The Music Man represented everything I, The Tone-Deaf Kid, the artist formerly known as Homer Stooge, did not have. He possessed talent, fame, and glory. I was determined to defeat him for being a constant reminder of my failings. I would take away all of his abilities with my powers, and then I would kill him as he agonized over his loss. After I had finished with him, I would turn the world into my tone-deaf minions. Never again would music haunt me with memories of my demolished dreams.
My powers are particularly singular. I discovered after my run-in with American Idol that I had negative talent. I not only had no talent of my own, but I could spoil everyone else's, too. I learned to focus my anti-talents by hanging out at American Idol auditions and taking away everybody's talents so they couldn't sing. I had hoped to ruin the show that had killed hopes by ensuring that they had no decent contestants. That is when I first heard of The Music Man.
He had recently saved the life of a flautist from the Metropolitan Opera House Orchestra. The flautist had nearly fallen to his death after a cellist dared him to climb up onto the roof. The Music Man was in the news taking pictures with the flautist, the Governor of New York, and the Mayor of New York City. Everyone was going on and on about his valor and talent, singing his praises until I was sick. A reporter asked him to give a crowd a demonstration of his abilities. I was awed. It was as if an angel had come down to earth to show the splendor of Heaven. I learned everything I could about him and his powers so I could fight him.
I had planned the day of my first confrontation with The Music Man for six months to the day after his famous incident with the flautist. I had decided to take hostage a famous Broadway producer outside of the theater currently putting on his show. I waited outside the building, and stopped him when he walked out. I asked him for his autograph, and, being extremely vain, he had immediately complied. When he handed me back the playbill of his last show, which I had gotten from eBay, I grabbed him, and pulled out my handgun, digging it into his neck as I held him against me.
Someone called the police on her cell-phone. They rushed out to surround me. I told them that my only demand was to meet The Music Man. He was on-scene within minutes. We faced each other, and I let the producer go. I told The Music Man that I was The Tone-Deaf Kid, and that I had vowed to be his downfall. Before I knew it, his sidekick The Persian Bandit came up behind me, and hit me on the head, knocking me out. I was arrested, but my lawyer advised me to plead temporary insanity, so they released me after a short trial.
The memory of my humiliation that day still stung me, but I knew I would be the last one to laugh. One day he would rue the day that he met me, and I would triumph over his demise.
I knew my plan for The Music Man's downfall was working when I heard Melody Dixon rehearsing. I was disguised as a maintenance man, and I could hear the goings-on of the stage as I cleaned the backstage toilets. The Music Man had taken the bait. Now all I had to do was reel him in. Every night I continued my excursions to her house, and every night I felt satisfaction when I heard her attempt to sing in the shower. My trusty ray gun never failed me, nor did my enemy. She would always come home singing sweetly. Soon my endless scheming would come into fruition.
And I had done a lot of scheming since The Music Man had left the public eye. I hadn't stopped for anything except eating, sleeping, using the bathroom, and watching "Grey's Anatomy." That Patrick Dempsey was so dreamy I could take my eyes off him!
I had already chosen my next targets once I had taken down The Music Man. The honor would go to Simon Cowell and Kelly Clarkson, the first American Idol winner. That recognition should have been mine!