Chapter 10: What You Do

The Year of The Lich
February

Marceline's band usually practiced in the Monster Castle basement when they were in town. Sometimes Simon liked to watch them. Seeing people better than him helped him stay on target in with his drumming. He didn't want to slip into the mindset that he was good when he wasn't.

Simon had never seen any of the other people in Marceline's band before, except for the guitarist, a renowned Spiky Person whose stage name was Fred. Marceline said she liked the different sounds that different musicians brought to the band. Simon couldn't really tell the difference, but he'd never said so.

"You guys sound great!" he called. The drums he could tell apart. The brown, leathery mummy currently playing them had been playing the same rhythm on the hihats since the beginning.

"I think Fred only knows three chords," murmured Gunter.

"Maybe it's some kinda statement," said Simon. He knew that chords were some kind of musical thing that involved playing a few notes at once, and he'd read that the amount of different chords that should go in one song had been a contentious issue before the Mushroom War. Maybe it still was.

Gunter indicated the keyboardist, a nervous-looking landsquid. "Then I don't think she agrees."

Simon took that to mean that she was playing a lot of different chords. She was clearly pressing down a lot of keys at once, although it was hard to tell when she was playing so fast.

The music segued into a drum solo. Simon watched with interest. He thought he could do that, although he'd probably switch up the hihat a bit more. But the mummy was probably just good enough to make it look easy.

Simon fiddled with the bottom of his waistcoat until he realised he could smell burning. He imagined the castle catching fire above them, collapsing, and covering them in burning rubble, and forced the image out of his mind. The castle was stone. Fire resistance was one of the reasons you built stone castles.

But the smell had to be coming from somewhere. He noticed a plume of smoke coming off the mummy, and for a second didn't understand what he was seeing. Then the mummy burst into flames.

Simon yelped in surprise and ran forwards, reaching into his bag for his fire blanket. He wrapped it around the mummy, extinguishing him.

"Oh my glob!" said Marceline. "Ötztal, are you okay?"

Simon removed the blanket. Ötztal was covered in shiny black burns, although his eyes were open. He mumbled. Most mummies mumbled, and Simon could never understand them.

Marceline seemed to understand. She said "Yeah, I don't think so, Ötztal. You need to rest."

"Is he gonna be okay?" asked the landsquid.

"Yeah," said Marceline. "Eventually. I told him not to try that solo."

Ötztal mumbled.

"Obviously not, Ötztal," said Marceline. "Come on, we better get you to the hospital." She hauled him up so that he could lean on her shoulder.

"Is he gonna be okay by tonight?" The landsquid continued. "Only, I told my parents, my kids, my brothers, my sister, my neighbours and my mother-in-law's cat I was gonna perform tonight, and if the concert's cancelled, I gotta make a lot of phone calls."

"No, but don't worry, Louise," said Marceline. "I think I can line up a replacement."

Simon was about to ask who she could get on such short notice, when he realised she was looking right at him. "Me?"

"Yeah, you, Simon!" said Marceline. "It was pretty cool how you put out the fire. Aren't you scared of fire?"

"Uh, no," said Simon nervously. She knew about that?

"So how about it?" said Marceline. "Wanna play at the concert tonight?"

Simon opened his mouth to explain all the reasons why he couldn't, but all that came out was "I'd love to!"

Simon curled up harder on his bed. He'd just been doing what heroes did when he'd saved Ötztal. He wasn't even scared of fire if it wasn't surrounding him. He was less scared of it, anyway. What else was he supposed to do, let him burn?

He wasn't good enough at the drums to play at a concert, and even if everyone's standards spontaneously lowered by tonight, he wasn't cool enough to be in a band, even as a substitute. He couldn't play in the band, but he'd told Marceline he would, and it was too late to find someone else. He thought about the landsquid, Louise, having to call people to tell them the concert was off, and twisted his blankets in his fist.

"Simon?"

It was Gunter. Simon didn't look up.

"Shouldn't you be practising?"

When Simon didn't respond, Gunter touched him lightly on the back. "Simon? What's the matter?"

"I can't play at the concert, Gunter!" Simon exploded. "I'm not cool enough!"

"Now come on, Simon, what's that mean?" said Gunter.

Simon sat up. "Gunter, don't pretend like I'm cool. I'm not cool enough play at a concert. I can't!"

Gunter looked at him wordlessly for a second. "Who says you have to be? What's the worst that could happen, you playing in a concert without being cool?" He jumped. "Wait, hang on, don't answer that."

Simon had already given a lot of thought to the possibilities. "Everyone could walk out of the concert, and what if there's a kingdom inspector and he hates Marceline's judgement, and he takes the Monster Kingdom away from her?"

"I don't think-" Gunter began.

Simon wasn't finished. "And what if the kingdom orphanage can't get the life saving medicine for a sweet baby banshee because of the legal proceedings, and she grows up to be the one person who can stop the frozen souls of a hundred cold-hearted generals from reigniting the Mushroom War! Uuu could be destroyed! And what if the generals dig down to the core of the planet and make it explode?"

Simon paused to take a breath before he launched into his theory about the collapse of the local infiniverse, but Gunter jumped in. "Look, if you're really that worried about it, why don't you teach yourself to be cool? You're good at that, at teaching yourself."

"That's true..." said Simon. Maybe he had some books on coolness lying around that he'd forgotten about. He jumped onto the floor, pointed, and said "To the living room!"

Simon shielded his eyes against the glare from the window, and looked over the books he'd collected. All he'd really found was the entire Kool Activities for Kidz series, which he'd saved from his old house. They weren't helping much. Kool only bore a very slight resemblance to real, grown up cool.

Gunter ran into the room holding a slim book with the remnants of plastic clinging to its cover. "Simon, look, I found this in the wall. It's not strictly about cool, but..."

Simon took it. "Hm..." The title of the book was How Does It Work? Refrigeration! He flipped through it. It wasn't much, and he already knew how refrigeration worked, but he was getting desperate.

How could they have no books specifically about coolness? Simon had books about everything else. Had he ever seen any books about coolness? Even at the library?

The library... Simon looked out at the setting sun. Even there were books on coolness there, there was no way they could make the trip with enough time to get to the concert afterwards. He dropped the book. "It's hopeless!"

Gunter looked hurt.

"Not you," Simon clarified. He indicated all the books. "All... All this! There's no way I can learn how to be cool before the concert!" He hadn't practised either, but he was less concerned about that. He knew Marceline's usual catalogue.

"Oh," said Gunter. He shrugged. "Then why don't we use magic?"

"Oh yeah, magic..." said Simon. That could work.

The best person to go to for esoteric magical items at short notice was Choose Goose. Simon often wondered where he got his stuff from. He couldn't collect it all himself, unless he was a much better adventurer than he seemed. It was possible that other adventurers sold it to him, although Simon didn't really understand that mentality. He'd had that magical stone that made everyone in a five foot radius need to blow their noses since he was nine, but he'd find a use for it one day. It was always good to be prepared.

"Who do I see on this day of joy?" said Choose Goose. "It's a penguin and a human boy!" He laughed.

"It's Simon and Gunter," said Simon, annoyed. "You've met us like a hundred times before!" He didn't know what it was about Choose Goose, but being around him always put Simon in a bad mood.

Choose Goose ignored him. "And what are you looking for? An enchanted hip brace? A potion? Or something to cover that blemish on your face?"

Simon rubbed his face, but he couldn't feel anything wrong. "Uh, actually, I'm looking for, uh, I mean..."

"He wants to be cool," said Gunter bluntly.

"Gunter!" said Simon. He'd been hoping to ask a bit more discreetly. Lucky there wasn't anyone else around.

Choose Goose laughed, flopped around, and said "On wood you must have knocked, because I have one cool item still in stock."

"Great," said Simon, who wasn't particularly surprised. Choose Goose always seemed to have what they needed. "What do you want for it?"

"Have some patience, my acquaintance," said Choose Goose. He pulled a cord with his feet, and a curtain fell down from the back of his stall.

"Whoa!" said Simon. It was a bust of Choose Goose, and maybe it was the pointy sunglasses it was wearing, but it was the coolest bust he'd ever seen in his life.

"The shades of Coolicon will make you cool!" Choose Goose declared. "Put them on, and you'll be the savviest kid in school! If you want to buy them, I'll give you a clue: I'll take any item of equal or cooler value."

"What?" said Simon. "There's no such thing! Coolness isn't a numerical scale, Choose Goose! It's not quantitative!" They didn't have time for this.

"Simon," said Gunter. "Calm down."

"I am calm, Gunter," Simon snapped. "It's this glob danged rubber limbed poetry crazed fop with the arbitrarily priced magic... junk!"

Choose Goose laughed and said "For that performance, the shades are yours, at no further expense!"

"Huh?" said Simon, who'd been gearing up for another rant. He took the glasses. "Uh, thanks." He wished he could tell when Choose Goose was provoking him on purpose, but at least they'd got what they'd come for.

Gunter ran his flippers over the glasses. "Hm, yeah, these seem fairly magical."

"You can't feel magic, Gunter," said Simon. He stared at the sunglasses. He trusted Choose Goose's merchandise, but did he really want to do this?

He didn't, but he had no choice. He couldn't show up as he was. He'd be a laughing stock.

He took off his glasses and put on the sunglasses.

Gunter watched Simon for any signs that something had gone wrong. The sunglasses completely obscured his eyes, and his normal glasses dangled from his hand.

"Simon...?" said Gunter eventually.

"I feel kinda sick," Simon whispered.

"Yeah?" said Gunter, relieved that he was talking.

"Crazy sick!" continued Simon. He broke into a grin.

"Was... was that a pun?" said Gunter. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Cool Simon he'd been prepared for, but pun-loving Simon?

"Lesson one in coolity," said Simon. "Puns are cool"

"Are you sure?" said Gunter. He didn't share his brother's usual aversion to puns, but he couldn't think of a single cool one.

Simon nodded. "Come on, we gotta get ready for the concert."

They started walking back to the tree fort.

"So..." said Gunter. "What's it like, being the coolest person in Uuu?" Simon seemed a lot less expressive than usual, and now that he thought about it, it probably was cool not to show emotions.

Simon shrugged without saying anything.

Simon was a lot of things, but he'd never been intimidating before. It was hard to be intimidated by someone you'd helped toilet train.

Simon looked over at him, smiled, and said "It's okay. All you really have to do is avoid doing uncool things."

"Like what?" said Gunter.

"Like explaining things too much," said Simon. "Explanations are way uncool."

"Huh," said Gunter. He'd thought he'd had a decent grasp on coolness until today. "And playing at the concert- that's definitely cool, is it?"

Simon nodded again. "Ötztal had a good thing going with that drum solo, but I think I can spice it up even more."

"You... you're going to set the stage on fire?" Gunter guessed. He wondered if cool Simon was still afraid of fire. Phobias were uncool, but they weren't really something you could turn off. Their dad had struggled with a phobia of giant molluscs until the day he'd died.

"No, of course not," said Simon. "It's a surprise." He smiled, then seemed to remember something, and patted down his waistcoat until he found his notebook. "Gotta write down the details so I got them straight."

"And... Writing in a notebook is cool," said Gunter, who'd always thought of it as a dorky Simon thing.

"If you do it right," said Simon, as he scribbled. His handwriting had never been good, but Gunter couldn't even read this. Obviously, penmanship was also uncool.

The concert was being held in the usual spot on the outskirts of the Monster Kingdom. There'd still be plenty left over from ticket sales once Marceline paid Fred, Louise and Simon their cuts. She loved putting on local concerts. It was like taxes, but with less complaining.

She was having second thoughts about Simon's suitability, though. Not because he wasn't good enough. He'd been playing the drums for a few years now. It was just that he'd looked like he was about to die when she'd offered him the part. Well, he'd accepted it, and if he fainted from stage fright halfway through, that was on him.

He seemed calmer now. He was wearing some tacky pointed sunglasses and he'd taken his own drum kit to the show, the red one with the "#1 Babe" sticker that he sometimes pretended he didn't have. Maybe it would be okay.

He was setting up the microphones on the drums, and he didn't seem to be sweating much, or at all, but she had to be sure. "Hey, Simon," she called.

Simon didn't look up. "Yeah?"

"You okay for tonight?" said Marceline.

"Yeah," said Simon. He hit the snare drum in a couple of different places. "It's okay, Marcy, I've played these songs before."

"You're not nervous?" said Marceline. For Simon, he sounded really relaxed.

"Not anymore," said Simon. "I got a great idea for the solo."

"That's great!" said Marceline, relieved. He was going to be fine, she shouldn't have worried. "I can't wait to hear it."

Marceline kept an eye on Simon as they started the show. He seemed fine. He seemed fine during the opening number. He made a couple of minor mistakes in the bridge for I'm Not You But You're Not Me, which was her experiment in changing time signature every second bar, and he still seemed fine. He was so unworried that it worried her.

Before his solo, Simon said "My name is Simon the Human."

Someone whooped, and Marceline smiled. Simon hadn't been adventuring long, but he'd made a big impression.

Simon didn't seem as embarrassed by the attention as he normally would be. "I'm filling in for Ötztal tonight, and I'll get right to the point: Are you ready for the most intense solo of your lives?"

This time, the entire crowd cheered.

Simon was better at showmanship than Marceline remembered, and less talky. Maybe it was the glasses. It made it hard to see what he was thinking.

Simon hit a cymbal and began playing a drum roll on the bass with his feet. He threw a drumstick in the air with his right hand, caught it with his left, and began the meat of the solo.

It wasn't the most intense solo of Marceline's life, but Simon was still pretty good for his age. Good composition, too. He'd obviously been studying.

The wind was beginning to blow out towards the audience, and Marceline enjoyed it for a second, until she remembered that there was nowhere behind them for the wind to blow from. The audience's bandages, capes, and antennae were blowing in completely the opposite direction, towards the stage. This wind wasn't natural.

A guitar pick flew up from backstage and hovered above Simon's head, followed by a pebble, and a ring from the audience. Simon looked up, then pointed with his free hand and grinned at the audience.

"Simon, what's that?" said Marceline. If it had been anyone other than Simon the do-gooder, the ring would've made her suspicious, but he obviously wasn't planning to steal the audience's valuables. So what kind of weird, sciencey thing was he trying?

"It's a black hole," said Simon, without missing a beat. He raised his voice. "Who wants to feel the intense gravitational pull of an infinitely dense acoustic phenomenon!"

The crowd cheered.

"See?" said Simon. "They love it."

The more he played, the bigger the black hole got. A rock hurtled into it, and someone in the front row stumbled and fell.

"Simon, this is dangerous!" said Marceline. She ducked an unplugged speaker.

"I know!" replied Simon happily. "In a few seconds it's gonna be self-sustaining, and- There we go." He began to float out of his seat, and put his arms around his drum kit.

Marceline could feel the pull towards the black hole now, although she could resist it. Louise had all her suckers pressed to the floor, and Fred was holding onto the side of the stage.

The stage began to crack. Gunter rose up from the audience and swiped them onto his back, Simon still holding onto his drum kit.

Marceline hit Gunter's back hard. "Oof!" The black hole's pull was so strong now that they could stand upright on Gunter's back. Above them, the setting sun loomed behind the mountains. Gunter was so big his feathers were as long as her finger. She couldn't float anymore, but she could just about stand.

A giant black flipper darkened the mountain-sky, and the audience fell onto Gunter's back. There was a lot of screaming and yelling.

Through the confusion, Marceline heard Gunter say "It's all right, I think I'm too big for it." There was a downwards lurch. "Er, hang on..."

The feathers expanded to the length of Marceline's hand.

Marceline pushed her way through the crowd. "Simon! What are you doing? Are you trying to kill us?" She almost wished he had been planning petty theft.

Simon was checking over his drum kit. "Oh, hey Marcy."

Marceline transformed into a horrible bat monster and grabbed him. "Simon! This is not a drum solo!"

Simon didn't seem bothered. "I told you I had something great. Look at everyone! They're having the time of their lives!"

Marceline turned to look at the closest person, a banshee lying with her hands over her head. "Simon, they're terrified." She held Simon close to her face. "Whatever you did, undo it now!"

Simon didn't react to the force of her breath. He shrugged as well as he could in her grip. "Eh."

"What do you mean "eh"?" Marceline demanded. "What is wrong with you today? Why are you trying to kill my audience- my subjects?" He was one of the last people she would have expected to betray her.

Her feet dug further into Gunter's feathers.

"I'm not trying to kill them," said Simon. "It's just a near death experience. It's okay, it's just part of the show."

"You mean nobody's in any danger?" Given the precautions Bonnibel always had to take so that she didn't accidentally make a black hole while trying to do something else, Marceline doubted it.

"Of course they are," said Simon. "Can't experience near-death without imminent death."

"Ugh!" Marceline threw him down, and shrank back into her humanoid form. "Then help them, Simon!"

Simon landed on his feet. "I'm not gonna do that." He adjusted his sunglasses. "It's dangerous out there, and I got my image to think about."

"But that's what you do!" said Marceline. "That's what you care about, Simon!" She grabbed the glasses and threw them down at Gunter's back. "And take those stupid glasses off!"

Simon looked around, then abruptly fell down. "Wowsers!" He stood up with difficultly. "Wh-what's going on?" He looked at Marceline. "Are... Are you mad at me?"

"Simon, were those glasses magic?" said Marceline, exasperated.

Simon looked down at them. "They were supposed to make me the coolest person in Uuu... But I don't remember anything. Did I already do the concert? Why is Gunter so big? Oh glob, are we tiny?" There was an edge to his voice that Marceline recognised.

"Don't panic or anything," she began, "but you made a black hole with your drum solo and now Gunter's the only thing standing between us and complete annihilation."

"Is that cool?!" yelled Simon.

Marceline shrugged. "Look, Simon. I'm freaked out too, but we gotta do something about this. Your cool self was some kinda psychopath." Simon panicking was the last thing they needed.

Simon wrung his hands. "Okay, yeah, okay. If I made it with a drum solo, then it must be an acoustic black hole."

Gunter lurched again, and grew even larger.

"Marceline, I know what to do!" said Simon. "Sound only has mass in an infinitely compressed medium, so an unweaver fill-"

"Simon, you can explain later," Marceline interrupted. By the way Gunter kept growing, he couldn't protect them forever.

"Oh, yeah," said Simon. He rummaged through his bag and found a megaphone. "Gunter! Gunter, can you hear me?"

There was movement far away on the black plain, and a low rumbling.

"Gunter, you're too big," Simon said. "I can't understand you! I need you to bring me close to the black hole. Oh yeah, and I need my drum kit. It's really important that I have my drum kit."

More rumbling. Nothing else happened.

"Gunter, it's our only chance!" said Simon. "I'll be fine!"

There was a pause, and then something huge and feathery rushed at them. It was Gunter's flipper.

Simon jumped on, dragging his drumset after him. "I got this!"

Simon didn't have this, but he didn't want Marceline to worry any more than she already was. He shielded his drum kit with his body, and clung to Gunter's flipper with his legs. Gunter moved his limbs so quickly at this size that parts of his drums snapping off from the air resistance was a real possibility.

Gunter stopped abruptly, and the snare drum slipped out from under Simon's body. He managed to grab it before it could fly away, but it wrenched his arm painfully. "Ah!" He rolled his shoulder to make sure it wasn't dislocated, and crawled to the edge of the flipper. There it was. The evening sky, slightly distorted by a tiny, black pinprick. Simon looked up to see the ground above him. Gunter was holding him upside down.

At this distance, the black hole's gravity was obviously much stronger than Earth's. Gunter was so big now that if it got him, the increase in mass would doom all of Uuu. And then the world.

Simon played a steady beat on the hihat. If he'd created the black hole, he knew exactly how he would've done it, he hoped. He just had to cancel out the self-perpetuating sound waves that formed the singularity. If that was really what it was made of.

The wind whipped the sound away so quickly that he couldn't even hear what he was playing. He had no idea if it was working, but he kept up the rhythm. He kept playing as it got harder and harder to lift his hands. He dug the foot he wasn't using into Gunter's skin, but he still slid towards the edge. He resisted the urge to play faster. Just a little more now, and the black hole would evaporate.

His drum kit fell off the edge. Simon nearly went with it, but he threw himself back just in time. He managed to grab the bass, but it was too heavy to hold for long. It was either the drum, or the drum and his arm.

He let go.

It was okay. He'd nearly unweaved it. All he had to do now was just keep up the rhythm. He tapped his cheek and yelled to complete the last few bars.

He peered over the edge, but before he could tell if it had worked, he fell upwards, and managed to twist himself around just in time to land on his feet.

Pieces of stage and instrument clattered to the ground around him. Gunter shrank down to normal size as people fell off his back.

Marceline floated down from the sky. "Simon, you did it!"

"I ruined your concert," said Simon, who didn't see cleaning up his own mess as particularly praiseworthy.

Everything was broken, the audience was yelling, and it was all Simon's fault. What had Marceline said? That being cool had made him into a sociopath? Simon found his megaphone and yelled "I can pay fo-"

Marceline took the megaphone off him. "I think they're into it, Simon," she said.

It was hard, but Simon could just about process the sounds the audience was making as positive. They were yelling and screaming, but sometimes the kinds of people who went to rock concerts were the kind who yelled and screamed their appreciation. And their dissatisfaction. Maybe Marceline was just trying to make him feel better.

Louise fell out of a nearby splintered tree, took Simon's hand with three tentacles, and shook it vigorously. "My mother-in-law's cat won't stop talking about how great that black hole stunt was! You're the most punk rock kid I've ever met!"

"Uh," said Simon. "Th-thanks." He wouldn't really call Marceline's current music punk.

A ring rolled out of the debris. Simon picked it up, took the megaphone back, and said "Excuse me. Who owns this ring?"

"It's mine!" said about twenty people, almost in unison.

"We'll deal with that after the show," said Marceline through the megaphone. "Everyone still got their instruments?"

Louise still had a keyboard, and Fred still had a guitar. Simon picked up a drum skin from the ground and held it between his fingers. It was from his bass. Nearby was a mangled yellow strip of metal that was the same colour as his cymbals.

At least everyone was safe.

"Oh," said Marceline.

"It's okay, I'm gonna sit the rest of the concert out," said Simon. So he didn't ruin it any more than he already had. Maybe Louise and her cat had genuinely enjoyed it, but he wasn't convinced that anyone else had

"I'll buy you a new one," continued Marceline. "As long as you promise to never put those glasses on again."

Simon nodded fervently.

He sat and watched the rest of the show. They didn't sound too bad, considering that their drummer had turned out to be insane and homicidal, destroyed the stage, and then dropped his drum kit into a black hole.

Gunter sat next to him. "You okay, Simon?"

Simon lied with a nod. "I wish I knew what I was thinking." Louise had called it a stunt, but nearly killing everyone went a bit beyond getting naked, eating live bats, and really anything the ancient masters had done.

"Oh!" said Gunter. He dived into Simon's bag and took out his notebook. "I nearly forgot. You wrote in this while you were insane from coolness."

Simon took it from him. "I did?" He flipped through it until he came to some messy writing that he didn't remember adding. "Man, cool people have really bad handwriting." He read it and mumbled to himself. "Okay, I was talking about near death experiences releasing adrenaline, dopamine, dimethyletryptamine... you know."

Gunter shrugged.

"Oh, there's nothing in here about why I did it," said Simon. "It's all planning and junk." He turned the page over. "Huh? Gunter, look!"

"More writing?" suggested Gunter, leaning over Simon's arm.

"Yeah, but it's addressed to me!" said Simon. "I must have known Marceline was going to take off those glasses somehow!"

Gunter moved his flipper under the writing. "Yes. that definitely says... something I cannot read."

Simon could read it. It was no worse than his handwriting got when he wasn't wearing glasses, had just had a panic attack, and hadn't eaten in three days. "It says 'Hey regular Simon. I'm gonna put on the coolest show I know how, but you don't have to be cool to make Marcy like you. She likes you already. PS: Calm down about puns, bro. Puns are funny.'"

Simon closed the notebook with a snap. "I really was insane."

Author's note: When anytime I look at the view graph and update my next chapter, I see that Chapter 1 has the highest view in this fanfic, while others are not. Please, give some chapters more views. Enjoy.