Sunny: Midvally is my 5th favorite Gung-Ho Gun, though it kills me about how horrible he's drawn in the anime, when he's so sexy in the manga…::drool::

Legato: Excuse me.

Wolfwood: *Achem*

Sunny: Sorry guys. But, this is a little songfic about Midvally before he's a Gung-Ho Gun. We don't own Trigun, or "Piano Man" by Billy Joel. ::thinks:: No one ever writes about Midvally. Why is that?

Legato: Because he's a worthless human, like us all.

Sunny: ¬.\\ You're becoming worthless, you're aware of that, right?

Saxophone Man

*It's nine o'clock

On a Saturday

The regular crowd shuffles in

There's an old man

Sitting next to me

Making love to his tonic and gin*

I noticed him when he walked into the bar. I had been playing, taking requests for once, and this man walked right up to me, a drink in his hand.

I smirked slightly. This man had gone entirely without notice in the bar, odd for someone as tall as he, with a red trench coat at that.

            "Do you know 'Sound Life'?" he asked, taking a swig of his drink.

*He says

Son can you play me a memory

I'm not really sure how it goes

But it's sad

And it's sweet

And I knew it complete

When I wore a younger man's clothes*

            "Sure, man," I said. "Don't hear a request for that one very often."

            "It's an old song," he said, shrugging. "But it's a favorite of mine. My mother used to sing it."

            I nodded and put Sylvia to my lips, playing the first few notes. I could hear it in my head, and was transferring it from my head to my hands, so Sylvia could play it for this man.

            After I'd finished, I took my break, walking over to the bar.

            "Just give me some whiskey," I said to John, who ran the bar.

*Now John at the bar

Is a friend of mine

He gets me my drinks for free

And he's quick with a joke

Or to light up your smoke

But there's some place

That he'd rather be*

            "Midvally," he said, passing me the glass. I loved the sound of the ice cubes clinking against the sides. It was almost musical.

            "Midvally, how can you stand it here?" he asked. I shrugged, taking a sip. The liquid burned my throat on the way down, but I was used to it.

            "I want to get out so badly, travel this planet," he sighed. "That guy looks like he's been around." He gestured to the man in the red coat, who was just leaving the bar.

            "Sure has," I agreed.

*He says

Bill, I believe this is killing me

As the smile ran away from his face

For I'm sure that

I could be a movie star

If I could get out of this place*

            "Thanks," I said, leaving a few coins at the counter. I always tip John, even though the drinks are on the house. I bring in so many people just to hear me play, that he doesn't really need to charge me.

            I smiled at a few of the regulars as I stepped back to the stage and started playing another tune.

*Now Paul is a real estate novelist

Who never had time

For a wife

And he's talking with Davy

Who's still in the Navy

And probably will be for life*

            A few of these men I could call my friends. I know almost everyone here, the regulars.

            A tall man in a white trench coat walked into the bar and quietly ordered a drink. He sits down and turns to me.

*And the waitress

Is practicing politics

As the businessmen

Slowly get stoned

Yes, they're sharing a drink

They call loneliness

But it's better than drinking alone*

            All the people who frequent here on Saturdays, and most of the one-timers, are sad, lonely people. This man seemed to be just alone, not lonely, and far from being sad.

            I stopped playing as he approached me.

            "Are you Midvally the Hornfreak?" he asked, his voice smooth, cold, and slightly malicious.

            I nodded, suppressing the fear arising within me.

            'Fear does not become you,' I heard him say within my head. 'Play "Sound Life" for me.'

            "Someone already requested that song, earlier tonight."

            'Play it!' he yelled within my head. 'I know Vash the Stampede was here, and I know he asked for the song, but I want to hear it now!'

            The man who had requested the song earlier was Vash the Stampede? The outlaw with a sixty billion double dollar bounty on his head? He seemed like a lonely young man, like the rest of the people in the bar.

            I started to play it again, and I could hear a few people singing along this time.

*Sing us a song

You're the piano man

Sing us a song tonight

While we're all in the mood

For a melody

And you've got us

Feeling all right*

            He smiled. 'You conceal a weapon within that instrument, am I correct?'

            How did this man know this?

            'The master would be very pleased with you. I heard that you were able to misdirect pain and aim it at the source with the sound emitted by your horn. You would be a fine addition to the group of assassins, the Gung-Ho Guns, I am assembling, Midvally.'

*It's a pretty good crowd

For a Saturday

And the manager gives me a smile

'Cause he knows that it's me

They've been coming to see

To forget about life for a while*

            'I could make every single person in here drop dead with a mere thought.' The man continued. 'It would not be wise to oppose me, especially when your musical talent is so great.'

            "What would I be entitled to should I join you?"

            'Anywhere from five to thirty billion double dollars,' he said, smiling. 'My master has left it up to me to assemble a group of assassins to kill his brother, Vash the Stampede. The bounty would belong to all of us.'

            I thought about this for a second. That man, in the red coat, was the outlaw, and this man, with a white coat, wanted him dead, like just about everyone else.

            Five billion double dollars was more than I'd ever see in my life if I stayed in this bar, not to mention thirty.

*And the piano

It sounds like a carnival

And the microphone

Smells like a beer

And they sit at the bar

And put bread in my jar

And say

Man, what are you doing here?*

            They might miss me, I thought.

            'You can play other places. People will still flock from all over to hear the famous Midvally the Hornfreak. But, you deserve so much more than providing music in bars.'

            This man was incredibly persuasive. The bar was closing soon, so I stepped down from the stage, towards him.

            'I thought you'd see it my way,'

*Sing us a song

You're the piano man

Sing us a song tonight

While we're all in the mood

For a melody

And you got us feeling all right*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunny: ^_\\ Midvally the Hornfreak, ladies and gentlemen! ::dramatic wave of the arm::

Midvally: ::plays Rakouen::

Wolfwood: Erp.

Legato: Wolfwood's final act.

Sunny: -_\\ It must be a Gung-Ho Gun thing…

Ecaep dna evol, Sunny