The Doldrums 3: Musical Interlude
Ed was getting a little bored. Being a little girl is fine and all, and the internet was great, you know, for amusement, but still, being cooped up in this little hole of a spaceship was getting to her. Being unable to run and play and scream and shout and roll around in a crazy heap of boneless… sack-i-ness, really was not doing her brain meats much goodness.
Nope. Not at all.
Yeah, so Ed was bored. MPU was out of broadcast depth, the T.V was showing static (which Jet kept on watching), Spike was still cleaning everything, almost following immediately behind Faye to clean up her ashes, while Faye was chain-smoking. Chain-smoking like the end of the world was tomorrow. It was getting kind of irritating for Ed, as whenever she was near Faye, the noxious cloud of smoke would continuously battle with the equally noxious fumes of cleaner, forming a battle that neither could win. It was like smelling the aftermath of some bombing where they had bombed the place with Windex or Pinesol, and had used lighter fluid for an explosive charge.
Wait… bombs… those are cool…
Yeah. Hey, bombs, those are fun. Yeah yeah, the way the go BOOOM and then the people go AHHHHHH!!!! And then the way that the little cars with the people in blue come streaming out of nowhere… yeah… that's cool.
Maybe Ed should make one of those. That would be very fun. Then she could put it somewhere and make it blow up and go BOOOM and then make the people go AAAHHHHHH!!! That would be very cool…
____________
It had finally happened.
After days, hours, weeks, a month even of straight, non-stop war, it had happened.
Spike ran out of cleaner on the fifth day of the second week of the second month of the trip through space. For long he had dreaded the day it would come, rationing it all out, using just barely enough to clean the entire ship once or twice over every day. All of his efforts were for naught.
Now he was caught once again the valley of boredom. A valley with no walls, no moats, no way up, no way down, and no way out. It was the end of it all. He could not stop it.
Look, DUST!!! THE EVIL HAS RETURNED!!!
::spray spray::…. No spray?
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" Spike screamed with all the pain and anguish he ever could hold in his gullet. "WHY GOD?!?!? WHYYYYY!!!! WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" He took a deep breath then, choking back the sobs that were tugging at the back of is throat.
"Somebody… help me… Please… anybody? ANYBODY???"
Spike fell to his knees in the middle of the living room, where he had been hunting idly for anything, ANYTHING to clean with. He clutched his hair in anguish, and let out the yell of a caged and tortured animal.
"GYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGH!!!!"
After sobbing for a few moments, Spike regained his cool, collected aura.
He was somebody important. He didn't have to clean. He would be strong. STRONG. He would regain that which was lost to him through the cleaning. He would kick the habit. It was too destructive for anything useful.
But how? WITH WHAT?!?!?!
Before he could fall into the depths of despair again, Jet walked like a zombie into the room. Jet had been stopping only to take bathroom breaks and get food for his long, long sojourn through the hypnosis of static.
"Jet, when I last went o you for advice, you told me some super-good stuff… ::sniff:: and now… I need to ask you something, ::sniff::"
Jet did not stir greatly from his stupor. "Spike. You have run out of cleaner."
"How did you know?"
"I know everything," he replied, in a flat monotone. "Just as you have run out of cleaner, too you have run out of things to do."
"Yes, I have," hope now dared enter Spike's voice. "What do you think I shout do, wiseman?"
"I have seen many things in the falling snow. I have seen love, I have seen hate, I have seen anger. But of all of these, I see something wasted in you. You have a gift, Spike. A gift that knows no bounds or restriction."
"…Tell me about this gift, wiseman."
Jet sat on the edge of the sofa, making no move to turn on the television to begin his oracular trance.
"You are one of the chosen, Spike. Only a few have this chance, don't give up on it now."
"Tell me more."
"You Spike, have the talent of music within you."
"…what now?"
"You are an artist spike. Like those who you have befriended you too were born into a place that you cannot see nor smell nor touch. But you Spike, you are now given the chance. Join me, and we can bring forth your inner calling."
"Wait wait, you think I can play music? What the hell have you been smoking? Shit, I thought I was messed up, and now this?"
"SHUTUP!!! I will teach you Spike. And in teaching you, I hope to save myself as well."
"But music is for wussies. Damn man, me playing a flute? A FLUTE? That's hilarious."
"That's why we're going to have you play the saxophone."
"The what?"
"The saxophone."
"Why?"
"Because it will loosen the ties on your soul, so that you can be free."
"Jet?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to smash this T.V."
"Oh."
____________
:: In the store-room upstairs ::
"Alright Spike, lets hear an 'a' out of that thing."
"When did you get that piano up here? And for how long have you had this saxophone? Why didn't you tell me?"
"It wasn't important. An 'a' please."
"It wasn't important? That thing looks expensive, and this is a nice saxophone. We could have pawned them for money a LONG time ago. And you know what then? Then I would have had more cleaner. And if I had more cleaner, you know what? I wouldn't be here, that's what!!!"
"Now Spike, listen. It was inevitable that you would run out of cleaner. All things like that are inevitable. Even now, wondering whether or not you would have had cleaner, you are not realizing that these instruments are more precious to me than anything else. Music is just powerful."
"Well… why didn't you teach me sooner? Then we could have played in a spaceport or subway or rail station and got some money going…"
"EXACTLY!!! I know a guy who got two thousand Woolongs just for playing a piece some rich guy asked for."
"What? Just one song? Nice."
"Yep."
"Wait… That means that we'd only get a top pay of maybe three hundred a night."
"Well… Yeah… so?"
"We make more than that… right?"
"Nope. You're just deluding yourself. We get paid some hundred thousand Woolongs every now and then, but the thing is that it all comes at the same time, and very few times out of the month. If you figure it all out, we're getting maybe 9000 after the taxes, expenditures and Faye. That's about what we get from street performances, and you don't pay taxes on that stuff. Add that to the 9000 we already have, and we have 18000."
"Genius."
"And now the 'a,' if you please."
"Right."
::toot::
"… That was no A…"
____________
"BOOOOM!!! YEEEHEEEHEEHEEEE!!!!"
Ed. Bombs. Prepare your bladder for IMMINENT release!!!
Ed was less bored now. Now she had a weapon. A weapon with which to right all the wrongs of her past. A weapon which no one or thing could stop. The ticking bomb, time ticking away like raisins falling from the sky onto the dry, hardened earth. Like pork buns heating too long in a microwave, they would cook and then go BOOOM!!!
Now all Ed needed was something to blow up.
Not the Bebop. Nono, that would be bad. Ed was on the Bebop. Beeeeboooop. Funny word. If Ed blew up the Beeeeboooop, then Ed would blow up too. Then Ed would blow up something outside the Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeebop. But what? There was nothing outside the BEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEbop. No… wait. There was NOTHING outside the BeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEeEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEbop. Ed could blow up NOTHING. YAY.
Ed jumped straight up into the air holding her fusion bomb, based around an enriched deuterium core. That baby could blow up a good deal of crap. Oh yeah. It wasn't hard to get the materials. The deuterium came from the Bebop feul tank, where there was just enough of it on the bottom of the tank to make a good-sized explosive of the nuclear class, but not enough to power the bebop for more than 30 minutes. She only took enough to make the bomb, and a dozen others. It was fun. WEEE!!!
Ed ran in her frolicking, happy happy gait all the way up to the bridge, where she discovered that ::GASP:: there was no way to launch the BOMB!!!
Oh no. That wouldn't do.
"Fine… Then Ed has to make some Bomb-launcher-thingies-lalelolila!!!"
Ed ran all the way back to her room, frolicking thinking about how much fun it would be to make Bomb-launcher-thingies-lalelolila. Woohoo.
____________
"Haha Spike, you're progressing!"
"Stop doing that Jet."
"Doing what?"
"Speaking with emotion. It's making me lose my concentration."
"Haha, you shouldn't concentrate so much, ust feel where you need to be. That's the key to improvisation. Start with some notes, or a simple melody and play things that sound good with it. I knew you had talent! You picked up on those scales and the fingering right away!"
"Yeehaw, Jet. Yeehaw."
"Oh come on Spike, what's wrong?"
"It's just that, It feel's weird. I mean, why don't we have a guitar or something for me to work with, that seems like it would be cooler, or something."
"Well, the thing is, Spike, that if you were to play the guitar, we could have no accompaniment with my piano playing. I mean, all I could do would be to maybe sing along or play background synthesizer. With saxophone, you get some balance in here, and we can trade off on melodies. Also, I'm fairly good at the piano, so I will be able to harmonize better with you."
"Yeah… Wait a minute… Chicks dig guys who play the saxophone, right?"
"Only the ones who play well, and look good while doing it."
"…Sweet. Ok, let's try that riff again."
"Alright."
____________
Faye twitched in her sleep.
:: Come closer Spike… mmm… do those again… yes…::
____________
Spike finished his riff. It really wasn't all that hard, once you got the hang of the whole continuous breath while twitching your fingers around bit. Jet seemed to like it anyway. It turned out that once you learned a bunch of scales, which was easy enough (kind of like learning how to fly a star ship, only not), all you needed to do was to learn movements and fingering, which fell right down Spike's martial arts alley. Movements were like blocking, and fingering was like… fingering. Not fondling, mind you, but fingering idly at some woman's… you know. Ahem.
Taking in another deep breath, spike began another simple scale turned into improvisational work.
____________
Faye's eyes opened. She was… hungry…
____________
Jet sat watching Spike in awe. They had only begun work three hours ago, and already he had mastered several scales and whatnot. Not only that, but he had a knack for screwing around with melodies. Very Jazzy. However… something troubled him in the back of his mind. It was as if… something or someone… was going to break in and ruin the whole experience.
Oh well.
____________
Ed jumped bolt upright, again. "NYAAA!!! ED HAS IT!!!"
Ein woofed in a very doglike manner. He really meant to convey the statement; ::Well duh you stupid human! How long have you been working on this simple problem!! It's been days!!! And now look, you've pissed off everyone in the audience by giving this chapter too little substance other than a silly musical story based around a saxophone!!! What kind of idiot are you!!!::
That didn't really come out with a woof though.
"If Ed has Spikey-poo come out and kick the bombomb out the air lock, then we have a launchie-thingie!!! WAI!!!"
Ein woofed again. ::Well By golly gee, I think she might have come up with a good way to launch a hydrogen bomb from this ship::
____________---------------------____________________-------------------
Author's notes: Yes… Sorry that took forever to do. It really oughtn't have taken so freaking long to get that out. Next time, I promise, I'll have my little sister poke me with a stick until I'm done crapping this out. Please feel free to yell at me for not writing so fast.
Special thanks: Again, to Washu the Goddess, (or my goddess ::cute grin:: ) of course I'm thanking you. Why wouldn't I?
To Lady Razorsharp, Thanks, I helluv love that episode! "Don't leave food in the fridge."
To all you other cool people who reviewed: Generally I'd like to say thanks for you comments, and please feel free to review again. Dialogue is always nice.
Ed was getting a little bored. Being a little girl is fine and all, and the internet was great, you know, for amusement, but still, being cooped up in this little hole of a spaceship was getting to her. Being unable to run and play and scream and shout and roll around in a crazy heap of boneless… sack-i-ness, really was not doing her brain meats much goodness.
Nope. Not at all.
Yeah, so Ed was bored. MPU was out of broadcast depth, the T.V was showing static (which Jet kept on watching), Spike was still cleaning everything, almost following immediately behind Faye to clean up her ashes, while Faye was chain-smoking. Chain-smoking like the end of the world was tomorrow. It was getting kind of irritating for Ed, as whenever she was near Faye, the noxious cloud of smoke would continuously battle with the equally noxious fumes of cleaner, forming a battle that neither could win. It was like smelling the aftermath of some bombing where they had bombed the place with Windex or Pinesol, and had used lighter fluid for an explosive charge.
Wait… bombs… those are cool…
Yeah. Hey, bombs, those are fun. Yeah yeah, the way the go BOOOM and then the people go AHHHHHH!!!! And then the way that the little cars with the people in blue come streaming out of nowhere… yeah… that's cool.
Maybe Ed should make one of those. That would be very fun. Then she could put it somewhere and make it blow up and go BOOOM and then make the people go AAAHHHHHH!!! That would be very cool…
____________
It had finally happened.
After days, hours, weeks, a month even of straight, non-stop war, it had happened.
Spike ran out of cleaner on the fifth day of the second week of the second month of the trip through space. For long he had dreaded the day it would come, rationing it all out, using just barely enough to clean the entire ship once or twice over every day. All of his efforts were for naught.
Now he was caught once again the valley of boredom. A valley with no walls, no moats, no way up, no way down, and no way out. It was the end of it all. He could not stop it.
Look, DUST!!! THE EVIL HAS RETURNED!!!
::spray spray::…. No spray?
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" Spike screamed with all the pain and anguish he ever could hold in his gullet. "WHY GOD?!?!? WHYYYYY!!!! WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" He took a deep breath then, choking back the sobs that were tugging at the back of is throat.
"Somebody… help me… Please… anybody? ANYBODY???"
Spike fell to his knees in the middle of the living room, where he had been hunting idly for anything, ANYTHING to clean with. He clutched his hair in anguish, and let out the yell of a caged and tortured animal.
"GYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGH!!!!"
After sobbing for a few moments, Spike regained his cool, collected aura.
He was somebody important. He didn't have to clean. He would be strong. STRONG. He would regain that which was lost to him through the cleaning. He would kick the habit. It was too destructive for anything useful.
But how? WITH WHAT?!?!?!
Before he could fall into the depths of despair again, Jet walked like a zombie into the room. Jet had been stopping only to take bathroom breaks and get food for his long, long sojourn through the hypnosis of static.
"Jet, when I last went o you for advice, you told me some super-good stuff… ::sniff:: and now… I need to ask you something, ::sniff::"
Jet did not stir greatly from his stupor. "Spike. You have run out of cleaner."
"How did you know?"
"I know everything," he replied, in a flat monotone. "Just as you have run out of cleaner, too you have run out of things to do."
"Yes, I have," hope now dared enter Spike's voice. "What do you think I shout do, wiseman?"
"I have seen many things in the falling snow. I have seen love, I have seen hate, I have seen anger. But of all of these, I see something wasted in you. You have a gift, Spike. A gift that knows no bounds or restriction."
"…Tell me about this gift, wiseman."
Jet sat on the edge of the sofa, making no move to turn on the television to begin his oracular trance.
"You are one of the chosen, Spike. Only a few have this chance, don't give up on it now."
"Tell me more."
"You Spike, have the talent of music within you."
"…what now?"
"You are an artist spike. Like those who you have befriended you too were born into a place that you cannot see nor smell nor touch. But you Spike, you are now given the chance. Join me, and we can bring forth your inner calling."
"Wait wait, you think I can play music? What the hell have you been smoking? Shit, I thought I was messed up, and now this?"
"SHUTUP!!! I will teach you Spike. And in teaching you, I hope to save myself as well."
"But music is for wussies. Damn man, me playing a flute? A FLUTE? That's hilarious."
"That's why we're going to have you play the saxophone."
"The what?"
"The saxophone."
"Why?"
"Because it will loosen the ties on your soul, so that you can be free."
"Jet?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to smash this T.V."
"Oh."
____________
:: In the store-room upstairs ::
"Alright Spike, lets hear an 'a' out of that thing."
"When did you get that piano up here? And for how long have you had this saxophone? Why didn't you tell me?"
"It wasn't important. An 'a' please."
"It wasn't important? That thing looks expensive, and this is a nice saxophone. We could have pawned them for money a LONG time ago. And you know what then? Then I would have had more cleaner. And if I had more cleaner, you know what? I wouldn't be here, that's what!!!"
"Now Spike, listen. It was inevitable that you would run out of cleaner. All things like that are inevitable. Even now, wondering whether or not you would have had cleaner, you are not realizing that these instruments are more precious to me than anything else. Music is just powerful."
"Well… why didn't you teach me sooner? Then we could have played in a spaceport or subway or rail station and got some money going…"
"EXACTLY!!! I know a guy who got two thousand Woolongs just for playing a piece some rich guy asked for."
"What? Just one song? Nice."
"Yep."
"Wait… That means that we'd only get a top pay of maybe three hundred a night."
"Well… Yeah… so?"
"We make more than that… right?"
"Nope. You're just deluding yourself. We get paid some hundred thousand Woolongs every now and then, but the thing is that it all comes at the same time, and very few times out of the month. If you figure it all out, we're getting maybe 9000 after the taxes, expenditures and Faye. That's about what we get from street performances, and you don't pay taxes on that stuff. Add that to the 9000 we already have, and we have 18000."
"Genius."
"And now the 'a,' if you please."
"Right."
::toot::
"… That was no A…"
____________
"BOOOOM!!! YEEEHEEEHEEHEEEE!!!!"
Ed. Bombs. Prepare your bladder for IMMINENT release!!!
Ed was less bored now. Now she had a weapon. A weapon with which to right all the wrongs of her past. A weapon which no one or thing could stop. The ticking bomb, time ticking away like raisins falling from the sky onto the dry, hardened earth. Like pork buns heating too long in a microwave, they would cook and then go BOOOM!!!
Now all Ed needed was something to blow up.
Not the Bebop. Nono, that would be bad. Ed was on the Bebop. Beeeeboooop. Funny word. If Ed blew up the Beeeeboooop, then Ed would blow up too. Then Ed would blow up something outside the Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeebop. But what? There was nothing outside the BEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEbop. No… wait. There was NOTHING outside the BeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEeEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEbop. Ed could blow up NOTHING. YAY.
Ed jumped straight up into the air holding her fusion bomb, based around an enriched deuterium core. That baby could blow up a good deal of crap. Oh yeah. It wasn't hard to get the materials. The deuterium came from the Bebop feul tank, where there was just enough of it on the bottom of the tank to make a good-sized explosive of the nuclear class, but not enough to power the bebop for more than 30 minutes. She only took enough to make the bomb, and a dozen others. It was fun. WEEE!!!
Ed ran in her frolicking, happy happy gait all the way up to the bridge, where she discovered that ::GASP:: there was no way to launch the BOMB!!!
Oh no. That wouldn't do.
"Fine… Then Ed has to make some Bomb-launcher-thingies-lalelolila!!!"
Ed ran all the way back to her room, frolicking thinking about how much fun it would be to make Bomb-launcher-thingies-lalelolila. Woohoo.
____________
"Haha Spike, you're progressing!"
"Stop doing that Jet."
"Doing what?"
"Speaking with emotion. It's making me lose my concentration."
"Haha, you shouldn't concentrate so much, ust feel where you need to be. That's the key to improvisation. Start with some notes, or a simple melody and play things that sound good with it. I knew you had talent! You picked up on those scales and the fingering right away!"
"Yeehaw, Jet. Yeehaw."
"Oh come on Spike, what's wrong?"
"It's just that, It feel's weird. I mean, why don't we have a guitar or something for me to work with, that seems like it would be cooler, or something."
"Well, the thing is, Spike, that if you were to play the guitar, we could have no accompaniment with my piano playing. I mean, all I could do would be to maybe sing along or play background synthesizer. With saxophone, you get some balance in here, and we can trade off on melodies. Also, I'm fairly good at the piano, so I will be able to harmonize better with you."
"Yeah… Wait a minute… Chicks dig guys who play the saxophone, right?"
"Only the ones who play well, and look good while doing it."
"…Sweet. Ok, let's try that riff again."
"Alright."
____________
Faye twitched in her sleep.
:: Come closer Spike… mmm… do those again… yes…::
____________
Spike finished his riff. It really wasn't all that hard, once you got the hang of the whole continuous breath while twitching your fingers around bit. Jet seemed to like it anyway. It turned out that once you learned a bunch of scales, which was easy enough (kind of like learning how to fly a star ship, only not), all you needed to do was to learn movements and fingering, which fell right down Spike's martial arts alley. Movements were like blocking, and fingering was like… fingering. Not fondling, mind you, but fingering idly at some woman's… you know. Ahem.
Taking in another deep breath, spike began another simple scale turned into improvisational work.
____________
Faye's eyes opened. She was… hungry…
____________
Jet sat watching Spike in awe. They had only begun work three hours ago, and already he had mastered several scales and whatnot. Not only that, but he had a knack for screwing around with melodies. Very Jazzy. However… something troubled him in the back of his mind. It was as if… something or someone… was going to break in and ruin the whole experience.
Oh well.
____________
Ed jumped bolt upright, again. "NYAAA!!! ED HAS IT!!!"
Ein woofed in a very doglike manner. He really meant to convey the statement; ::Well duh you stupid human! How long have you been working on this simple problem!! It's been days!!! And now look, you've pissed off everyone in the audience by giving this chapter too little substance other than a silly musical story based around a saxophone!!! What kind of idiot are you!!!::
That didn't really come out with a woof though.
"If Ed has Spikey-poo come out and kick the bombomb out the air lock, then we have a launchie-thingie!!! WAI!!!"
Ein woofed again. ::Well By golly gee, I think she might have come up with a good way to launch a hydrogen bomb from this ship::
____________---------------------____________________-------------------
Author's notes: Yes… Sorry that took forever to do. It really oughtn't have taken so freaking long to get that out. Next time, I promise, I'll have my little sister poke me with a stick until I'm done crapping this out. Please feel free to yell at me for not writing so fast.
Special thanks: Again, to Washu the Goddess, (or my goddess ::cute grin:: ) of course I'm thanking you. Why wouldn't I?
To Lady Razorsharp, Thanks, I helluv love that episode! "Don't leave food in the fridge."
To all you other cool people who reviewed: Generally I'd like to say thanks for you comments, and please feel free to review again. Dialogue is always nice.