"Collected Drabbles"
by JVM-SP150
SLASH REDUX (Stan&Randy)
A longer, darker-haired Randy Marsh sat with his guitar cases, grinning. Ever since his days in the Ghetto Avenue boys, he'd loved music, and his favorite instrument was of course the guitar. It was a late night, so he decided to clean the fretboard, as most guitarists are supposed to do annually apparently. Taking out the largest and most expensive guitar, Randy breathered in and got up to get some steel wool out of his closet, when the door to his study opened. "Dad?"
"Stan!" Randy panicked, turning around, "This isn't what it looks like!" Little Stan walked into the room and towards the guitars, raising an eyebrow,
"Dad, isn't that Slash's guitar?"
"Shh, shh, Stan!" Randy covered his son's mouth, "Okay, look Stan, sometimes when adults... godammit, how do I do this?" he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, "Look sometimes when adults want their kids to have a good holiday, they... dress up and play for Guns n' Roses. You have to understand, Stan, it's really not that big a deal, it's just kind of a pretend thing, like how we all pretend we care about what people post on Facebook. You understand?"
"So you're Slash then?" Stan asked. His father looked down,
"...well, kinda, yeah. I mean I did go on tour a while. Hey, you know 'November Rain'? Totally my idea."
"Mom says I can't listen to Guns n' Roses until I'm older unless I'm good at my birthday." Stan said quietly.
"Well, yeah, if you're good at your birthday, Slash will come play for you." Randy insisted.
"Wow, my dad's a real musician. I can't wait to tell Kyle and Kenny and fatass!" Stan squirmed with delight.
"Dammit Stanley, watch your language, you don't want your mother picking up on that shit." Randy scolded, "Now come on, let's get you a glass of water and to bed. Now don't tell anybody about this, okay? Not your friends, not your sister, not grandpa, not even your mother. Okay?"
"Okay, dad..." Randy brought his son, corruption not yet fully evident, a glass of water and put him to bed, and went to the bedroom to rejoin Sharon, sighing. The younger Sharon, with longer, glossier brown hair, but otherwise looking much the same, put down her book and glasses,
"Is something, wrong, Randy?"
"Sharon, I feel horrible for lying to Stan about Slash..." he admitted, "I mean, is it really fair for all of us to have this big conspiracy? Yeah the kids like it but then when they find out the truth, they feel so lied to... I mean, yeah, going on tour and stuff is fun and all, but I mean, is it our place?"
"Don't feel horrible, Randy. You're expressing your creativity in your own way. It may not be for everyone, but art rarely is." Sharon replied, "And last time I checked, you weren't hurting anyone. We all have our own passions." There was a long pause, as if there was a sentence missing here.
"Yeah, you're right." Randy said, yawning, "Hey Sharon, I'm better than Axl Rose, right?"
"Whatever you say, Randy." Sharon said, turning out the lights. "Good night."
"G'night Sharon..."