Chapter 9 - "Boys On The Radio" - Grubbery's Story
April 17, 2000 - Tulsa, Oklahoma
"See my vest, see my vest made of real gorilla chest," Mr. Burns sang. I was watching an old Simpsons repeat. I laughed to myself. This episode was so funny, one of my favourites. I loved the way the parodied '101 Dalmatians'. Tweedle-Tay had gone out to the mall and Michaela was doing school work in her room. Physics, I think. That would explain all the depressed moaning coming from her bedroom.
"I really like the vest," Mr. Burns said. I laughed. So funny! There was a knock at the door.
"Michaela, will you get it?" I called out.
"Grubbery!" she moaned. "Do you have any idea how hard electrostatics is? How could you even think for a second -"
"Okay, okay," I replied, reluctantly getting up from the television to answer the door. I should be doing school work too actually. Tweedle- Tay and Michaela were doing theirs. Still, Mom wasn't setting me any homework. Sure, that may have had something to do with me not being at home, but still. I opened the door.
Tweedle-Tay grabbed my hand and dragged me outside. "Grub!" he said excitedly. "You wouldn't believe what I've just bought!"
I stumbled down the step and followed him out into the front garden. There was a van sitting on the street outside our house. "A van?" I asked in disbelief. That wasn't very exciting. Tweedle-Tay and Michaela already had a nice car in LA. A crummy old van wasn't very good.
Tay shook his head and walked towards the van. I followed him. "No silly!" he replied, still cheerful. "It's what's in the van that counts." Two slightly overweight middle aged men got out of the van. Oh no! Tweedle-Tay hadn't hired male prostitutes, had he? "I bought a keyboard and a drum kit," he said, smiling as he turned to me.
"Yes!" I said enthusiastically. I stopped in my tracks and shook my head. "Michaela is going to kill you. You already have a keyboard and a piano at your house....."
Tweedle-Tay shook his head and laughed. "I didn't use Michaela's money. I took it out of your Manson money." Seeing the look of shock on my face he continued. "The parents took half of my money and put it in your account. Part of your money is rightfully mine."
I disagreed, but couldn't be bothered arguing. The men removed the instruments from the van and began to carry them into the house. "Now we can start up the band again," Tweedle-Tay said happily. "Except this time it'll be even better."
I nodded. "We can be like Tool. Or the Smashing Pumpkins. Or the Offspring. Or Pearl Jam." I went to hug Tweedle-Tay but quickly stopped myself. "You rock Tay."
"Thanks," he said, looking pleased with himself.
It took a while to set up the instruments in the loungeroom but once we had finished we got to work. "I've been writing some lyrics," Tweedle- Tay said. "We can use them in our very first grunge song."
"Wow!" I said, equally excited. "I've been writing lyrics too."
We began to jam. It sounded really good. Really grungy. Tweedle- Tay sounded great. He sounded angry, like, really mad. "Hey my little baby girl, you know you brighten up my world. Just why is it that you can't see - you are the only one for me? Oh! Ooooo!"
It was going great. Maybe we'd make it to number 1 again, some time in the future. "Oh. Baby. Oh. Baby," Tay sang.
Michaela walked out into the loungeroom and laughed. "What are you guys doing?" she asked cheerfully.
"He used my money," I said quickly.
"Grubbery and I are reforming the band," Tweedle-Tay explained.
"Really?" Michaela asked sweetly.
"This time we're going grunge," Tweedle-Tay continued.
"We want to be the voice of Generation Next. Like, what Nirvana was to Generation X," I added.
Michaela smiled. "Really? Can I listen?"
"Sure," I replied.
We started to jam again. "Sparkling eyes light up the sky. Girl I love you, my oh my!" Tweedle-Tay sang again. "Ooooo yeah!"
Michaela burst out laughing. "A grunge band????" she asked through her laughter. "A grunge band????"
I frowned. "What's wrong with us being a grunge band?" I asked defensively.
Michaela smiled and sat down. "Nothing. It's just that...." she paused and smiled. "Well, for starters, you can't have a grunge band with a keyboardist and a drummer. It's not very grungy, if you know what I mean."
"Well, we can be original," Tweedle-Tay replied. "We can be the first grunge band like us."
Michaela nodded slowly and made a face. "A secondly.... your lyrics. I mean, please! 'Girl I love you, my oh my!' What sort of grunge lyric is that? It sounds like the Backstreet Boys..... gone wrong!" She laughed, and paused. "Oh sorry! That was really mean of me. I didn't actually mean that. Nothing could be as bad as the Backstreet Boys."
"I'll say," I said bitterly. I turned to Tweedle-Tay. "I think we sound grungy," I said.
"Me too," he agreed. "Besides Michaela, can you do any better?"
"Actually," she replied. "Yes." She ran back into her room.
"I'd like to see this," Tay said to me.
"Michaela won't be as grungy as we are. Look at her clothes. She's a regular little prep," I told him.
Michaela walked back out into the loungeroom and sat back down. "Okay," she said. "This is a song I wrote about the superficiality of LA." She cleared her throat. "Swing low, sweet cherry, make it awful. It's your life, it's your party, it's so awful. Let's start a fire, let's have a riot! Yeah it's awful. It was punk, yeah, it was perfect now it's awful. And they know how to break all the girls like you. And they rob the souls of the girls like you. And they break the hearts of the girls.... Swing low, cherry, cherry, yeah it's awful. He's drunk, he tastes like candy, he's so beautiful. He's so deep, like dirty water, god he's awful. Your lost, oh where's your Daddy - it's so awful. And they royalty rate all the girls like you. And they sell it out to the girls like you. To incorporate little girls. Hey, run away with the light, run away it's divine, let's run away, yeah tonight-"
"Michaela!" Tweedle-Tay said angrily. "That doesn't sound grungy at all. It sounds like a Blondie song." I nodded in agreement, even though I didn't know who Blondie were.
Michaela blushed. "Well I'm sure that if it had distorted guitar behind it, it would sound grungy."
Tay rolled his eyes. "Well I'm sure 'Baby Girl' would too."
"Whatever," Michaela said, shaking her head. "Have your grunge band, have your fun. I was just being honest."
"As were we," I added. "You are NOT a grunge chick, Michaela."
Michaela smiled to herself. "No, I guess I'm not." She paused. "But you guys are totally grungy," she said, with wide eyes. "You rock!" she said in a deep voice. She started to laugh. "Maybe you should stick with pop. You were quite good at that," she said helpfully.
"We don't like pop, Michaela," I said.
"Of course not," she agreed. "It's not very.... manly!" she giggled.
"Are you making fun of us?" Tweedle-Tay asked suspiciously.
"No!" she said quickly. "Can I join?"
We shook our heads. "No. You can't play any instruments," Tweedle- Tay said.
"You just don't rock," I added.
"No," she said sadly. "I'll never be one of the boys on the radio."
April 17, 2000 - Tulsa, Oklahoma
"See my vest, see my vest made of real gorilla chest," Mr. Burns sang. I was watching an old Simpsons repeat. I laughed to myself. This episode was so funny, one of my favourites. I loved the way the parodied '101 Dalmatians'. Tweedle-Tay had gone out to the mall and Michaela was doing school work in her room. Physics, I think. That would explain all the depressed moaning coming from her bedroom.
"I really like the vest," Mr. Burns said. I laughed. So funny! There was a knock at the door.
"Michaela, will you get it?" I called out.
"Grubbery!" she moaned. "Do you have any idea how hard electrostatics is? How could you even think for a second -"
"Okay, okay," I replied, reluctantly getting up from the television to answer the door. I should be doing school work too actually. Tweedle- Tay and Michaela were doing theirs. Still, Mom wasn't setting me any homework. Sure, that may have had something to do with me not being at home, but still. I opened the door.
Tweedle-Tay grabbed my hand and dragged me outside. "Grub!" he said excitedly. "You wouldn't believe what I've just bought!"
I stumbled down the step and followed him out into the front garden. There was a van sitting on the street outside our house. "A van?" I asked in disbelief. That wasn't very exciting. Tweedle-Tay and Michaela already had a nice car in LA. A crummy old van wasn't very good.
Tay shook his head and walked towards the van. I followed him. "No silly!" he replied, still cheerful. "It's what's in the van that counts." Two slightly overweight middle aged men got out of the van. Oh no! Tweedle-Tay hadn't hired male prostitutes, had he? "I bought a keyboard and a drum kit," he said, smiling as he turned to me.
"Yes!" I said enthusiastically. I stopped in my tracks and shook my head. "Michaela is going to kill you. You already have a keyboard and a piano at your house....."
Tweedle-Tay shook his head and laughed. "I didn't use Michaela's money. I took it out of your Manson money." Seeing the look of shock on my face he continued. "The parents took half of my money and put it in your account. Part of your money is rightfully mine."
I disagreed, but couldn't be bothered arguing. The men removed the instruments from the van and began to carry them into the house. "Now we can start up the band again," Tweedle-Tay said happily. "Except this time it'll be even better."
I nodded. "We can be like Tool. Or the Smashing Pumpkins. Or the Offspring. Or Pearl Jam." I went to hug Tweedle-Tay but quickly stopped myself. "You rock Tay."
"Thanks," he said, looking pleased with himself.
It took a while to set up the instruments in the loungeroom but once we had finished we got to work. "I've been writing some lyrics," Tweedle- Tay said. "We can use them in our very first grunge song."
"Wow!" I said, equally excited. "I've been writing lyrics too."
We began to jam. It sounded really good. Really grungy. Tweedle- Tay sounded great. He sounded angry, like, really mad. "Hey my little baby girl, you know you brighten up my world. Just why is it that you can't see - you are the only one for me? Oh! Ooooo!"
It was going great. Maybe we'd make it to number 1 again, some time in the future. "Oh. Baby. Oh. Baby," Tay sang.
Michaela walked out into the loungeroom and laughed. "What are you guys doing?" she asked cheerfully.
"He used my money," I said quickly.
"Grubbery and I are reforming the band," Tweedle-Tay explained.
"Really?" Michaela asked sweetly.
"This time we're going grunge," Tweedle-Tay continued.
"We want to be the voice of Generation Next. Like, what Nirvana was to Generation X," I added.
Michaela smiled. "Really? Can I listen?"
"Sure," I replied.
We started to jam again. "Sparkling eyes light up the sky. Girl I love you, my oh my!" Tweedle-Tay sang again. "Ooooo yeah!"
Michaela burst out laughing. "A grunge band????" she asked through her laughter. "A grunge band????"
I frowned. "What's wrong with us being a grunge band?" I asked defensively.
Michaela smiled and sat down. "Nothing. It's just that...." she paused and smiled. "Well, for starters, you can't have a grunge band with a keyboardist and a drummer. It's not very grungy, if you know what I mean."
"Well, we can be original," Tweedle-Tay replied. "We can be the first grunge band like us."
Michaela nodded slowly and made a face. "A secondly.... your lyrics. I mean, please! 'Girl I love you, my oh my!' What sort of grunge lyric is that? It sounds like the Backstreet Boys..... gone wrong!" She laughed, and paused. "Oh sorry! That was really mean of me. I didn't actually mean that. Nothing could be as bad as the Backstreet Boys."
"I'll say," I said bitterly. I turned to Tweedle-Tay. "I think we sound grungy," I said.
"Me too," he agreed. "Besides Michaela, can you do any better?"
"Actually," she replied. "Yes." She ran back into her room.
"I'd like to see this," Tay said to me.
"Michaela won't be as grungy as we are. Look at her clothes. She's a regular little prep," I told him.
Michaela walked back out into the loungeroom and sat back down. "Okay," she said. "This is a song I wrote about the superficiality of LA." She cleared her throat. "Swing low, sweet cherry, make it awful. It's your life, it's your party, it's so awful. Let's start a fire, let's have a riot! Yeah it's awful. It was punk, yeah, it was perfect now it's awful. And they know how to break all the girls like you. And they rob the souls of the girls like you. And they break the hearts of the girls.... Swing low, cherry, cherry, yeah it's awful. He's drunk, he tastes like candy, he's so beautiful. He's so deep, like dirty water, god he's awful. Your lost, oh where's your Daddy - it's so awful. And they royalty rate all the girls like you. And they sell it out to the girls like you. To incorporate little girls. Hey, run away with the light, run away it's divine, let's run away, yeah tonight-"
"Michaela!" Tweedle-Tay said angrily. "That doesn't sound grungy at all. It sounds like a Blondie song." I nodded in agreement, even though I didn't know who Blondie were.
Michaela blushed. "Well I'm sure that if it had distorted guitar behind it, it would sound grungy."
Tay rolled his eyes. "Well I'm sure 'Baby Girl' would too."
"Whatever," Michaela said, shaking her head. "Have your grunge band, have your fun. I was just being honest."
"As were we," I added. "You are NOT a grunge chick, Michaela."
Michaela smiled to herself. "No, I guess I'm not." She paused. "But you guys are totally grungy," she said, with wide eyes. "You rock!" she said in a deep voice. She started to laugh. "Maybe you should stick with pop. You were quite good at that," she said helpfully.
"We don't like pop, Michaela," I said.
"Of course not," she agreed. "It's not very.... manly!" she giggled.
"Are you making fun of us?" Tweedle-Tay asked suspiciously.
"No!" she said quickly. "Can I join?"
We shook our heads. "No. You can't play any instruments," Tweedle- Tay said.
"You just don't rock," I added.
"No," she said sadly. "I'll never be one of the boys on the radio."
