Hello!! Oh, I'm very pleased to hear from all you faithful reviewers (as
usual) so I thought I'd name some who have been VERY helpful to me:
Termanatrix- for being honest and, sadly, inspiring the cliffhanger idea.
Obsessed- for reviewing EVERY Chappie!! :) (Note: sometimes she emailed me reviews, so they don't always show up.)
Squish- for being... well, Squish. *giggles*
And, without further ado, Chappie 6!!!
**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~
Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' was blasting out of Adam's radio.
"AAAAHHH!!! DAD!!! HAVE YOU BEEN USING MY RADIO AGAIN?!?!"
Mr. Rove stuck his head in the door. "Maybe..."
Adam threw a piece of clay at him. "You know, I really don't appreciate this."
"You should learn to expand your sights on music."
"Classical? Sure. Rock? Of course. Oldies? Well, with some bribery, okay, but gays who can't keep the same color skin for two whole decades? Definitely NOT."
"Alright, I get the picture."
Adam rolled his eyes and tuned to another station.
"In the arms... of... the angel..."
Adam froze, immediately trying to get better reception. He'd heard that song before... but where?
"Fly away... from here..."
It was on the tip of his tongue... but somehow, he just couldn't get it.
"Right, Adam. Your mother used to sing that song to you."
Adam turned around, expecting to see his dad. He even had a piece of clay poised to throw.
But it wasn't. It was a middle-aged woman with bright red hair and Hawaiian- print clothing.
"Um... God?"
"Right. And here." She handed him a CD. "This has that song on it. My guess is that it's all you'll need for inspiration."
She turned around and walked away.
Adam just shook his head. "Oh, eternal God, the everlasting spirit, you forgot that I don't HAVE a CD player."
He turned around and jumped back, surprised.
Carved into the wood were three words that hadn't been there before:
SO BUY ONE.
Adam grinned and looked up.
"Maybe I will."
**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~
Kevin jumped back- or rather, spun back. "What's wrong, Joan?"
She pointed. "All singers must enter in separate categories according to the song they are singing."
He stared. "And...?"
She glared at him. "I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THEY MEAN BY THAT!!"
He shook his head. "Geez... relax. It means if you're singing rock, you enter in the rock category. If you're singing country, you enter in the country category. They do that so the judges don't judge by favoritism if they just plain like one song better than another. IT'S NOT A HUGE DEAL. Relax. Even if they didn't have categories, I still think you'd win."
Joan smiled. "Thanks, Kevin."
"No prob." He wheeled out. "See ya when Dad gets home."
Joan looked up. "Thanks." She whispered.
"You're welcome." Flashed up on her radio.
Maybe... just maybe... this WAS for the greater good.
Only time would tell.
**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~
Okay, are ya happy now?!!? NO CLIFFHANGERS!!! MERRY HALLOWEEN TO YOU ALL!!! Ah, screw it...
~Krista Kat
Termanatrix- for being honest and, sadly, inspiring the cliffhanger idea.
Obsessed- for reviewing EVERY Chappie!! :) (Note: sometimes she emailed me reviews, so they don't always show up.)
Squish- for being... well, Squish. *giggles*
And, without further ado, Chappie 6!!!
**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~
Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' was blasting out of Adam's radio.
"AAAAHHH!!! DAD!!! HAVE YOU BEEN USING MY RADIO AGAIN?!?!"
Mr. Rove stuck his head in the door. "Maybe..."
Adam threw a piece of clay at him. "You know, I really don't appreciate this."
"You should learn to expand your sights on music."
"Classical? Sure. Rock? Of course. Oldies? Well, with some bribery, okay, but gays who can't keep the same color skin for two whole decades? Definitely NOT."
"Alright, I get the picture."
Adam rolled his eyes and tuned to another station.
"In the arms... of... the angel..."
Adam froze, immediately trying to get better reception. He'd heard that song before... but where?
"Fly away... from here..."
It was on the tip of his tongue... but somehow, he just couldn't get it.
"Right, Adam. Your mother used to sing that song to you."
Adam turned around, expecting to see his dad. He even had a piece of clay poised to throw.
But it wasn't. It was a middle-aged woman with bright red hair and Hawaiian- print clothing.
"Um... God?"
"Right. And here." She handed him a CD. "This has that song on it. My guess is that it's all you'll need for inspiration."
She turned around and walked away.
Adam just shook his head. "Oh, eternal God, the everlasting spirit, you forgot that I don't HAVE a CD player."
He turned around and jumped back, surprised.
Carved into the wood were three words that hadn't been there before:
SO BUY ONE.
Adam grinned and looked up.
"Maybe I will."
**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~
Kevin jumped back- or rather, spun back. "What's wrong, Joan?"
She pointed. "All singers must enter in separate categories according to the song they are singing."
He stared. "And...?"
She glared at him. "I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THEY MEAN BY THAT!!"
He shook his head. "Geez... relax. It means if you're singing rock, you enter in the rock category. If you're singing country, you enter in the country category. They do that so the judges don't judge by favoritism if they just plain like one song better than another. IT'S NOT A HUGE DEAL. Relax. Even if they didn't have categories, I still think you'd win."
Joan smiled. "Thanks, Kevin."
"No prob." He wheeled out. "See ya when Dad gets home."
Joan looked up. "Thanks." She whispered.
"You're welcome." Flashed up on her radio.
Maybe... just maybe... this WAS for the greater good.
Only time would tell.
**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~
Okay, are ya happy now?!!? NO CLIFFHANGERS!!! MERRY HALLOWEEN TO YOU ALL!!! Ah, screw it...
~Krista Kat