Disclaimer: I still own absolutely nothing. I decided to write this while I
was on meds once again. I have a cold now, and alternate between Dayquil
and Nyquil. This is the LAST part of "A Complicated Song", I promise!
Jean sighed, pushing a cart forward and into the light. The cart had on it...well, Scott's head. She then placed a microphone in front of him and at a height that he could speak into it. Scott frowned and did his best to nod at her. "Thanks. You can go now." She smiled at him, turned on her heels
and walked off. "Well people, I have a story to tell and it won't be so
pretty. It all started on a trip to the carnival."
I had so much on my mind
I thought maybe I'd unwind
Try out that new roller coaster ride
And the guide
Said not to stand
But that's a demand
That I couldn't meet
I got on my feet
And stood up instead
And knocked off my head, you see
Part way through the song, his head started to wobble off the cart. Scott was just a head at the moment and in no position to regain his balance. He gave a sigh of relief when his head almost fell, but didn't. Scott didn't
want to remember his pain and humiliation at being decapitated, but his story had to be told. He didn't want people making the same mistake in the
future. A machine was keeping him alive at the moment, attached to the bottom of the cart. This would only be until they could reattach his head
to his body.
Tell me
Why'd I have to go and get myself decapitated?
This really is a major inconvenience, oh man, I really hate it
such a drag, now ... Can't eat, I can't breathe, I can't snore
I can't train or blast you anymore
can't spit or blow my nose or even read Sports Illustrated
At this point, his head DID fall off in front of the cart. He groaned in defeat and tried to continue his song, but he couldn't be heard clearly. It
got easier when the microphone fell on him, though. Scott let out a few
choice words that got him a glare from Jean backstage.
Oh no
Why'd I have to go and get myself all mutilated? (yeah, yeah)
I gotta tell ya, life without a head kinda makes me irritated
What a bummer
Can't blink, I can't cough, I can't sneeze
But my neck is enjoyin' a pleasant breeze now
Haven't been the same since my head and I were separated
No, no, no
Jean strode on stage and bent to pick up his head. Some guy in the audience whistled and she tossed him around with her TK. Scott laughed at them as
Jean kissed him and carried him off stage.
Author's Note: Hehe, doncha love me when I'm heavily medicated? I had to do this because...Scott just gets on my nerves. Sorry it took me so long to update, I was kinda busy. Next chapter: Bobby and Jean-Paul!
and Nyquil. This is the LAST part of "A Complicated Song", I promise!
Jean sighed, pushing a cart forward and into the light. The cart had on it...well, Scott's head. She then placed a microphone in front of him and at a height that he could speak into it. Scott frowned and did his best to nod at her. "Thanks. You can go now." She smiled at him, turned on her heels
and walked off. "Well people, I have a story to tell and it won't be so
pretty. It all started on a trip to the carnival."
I had so much on my mind
I thought maybe I'd unwind
Try out that new roller coaster ride
And the guide
Said not to stand
But that's a demand
That I couldn't meet
I got on my feet
And stood up instead
And knocked off my head, you see
Part way through the song, his head started to wobble off the cart. Scott was just a head at the moment and in no position to regain his balance. He gave a sigh of relief when his head almost fell, but didn't. Scott didn't
want to remember his pain and humiliation at being decapitated, but his story had to be told. He didn't want people making the same mistake in the
future. A machine was keeping him alive at the moment, attached to the bottom of the cart. This would only be until they could reattach his head
to his body.
Tell me
Why'd I have to go and get myself decapitated?
This really is a major inconvenience, oh man, I really hate it
such a drag, now ... Can't eat, I can't breathe, I can't snore
I can't train or blast you anymore
can't spit or blow my nose or even read Sports Illustrated
At this point, his head DID fall off in front of the cart. He groaned in defeat and tried to continue his song, but he couldn't be heard clearly. It
got easier when the microphone fell on him, though. Scott let out a few
choice words that got him a glare from Jean backstage.
Oh no
Why'd I have to go and get myself all mutilated? (yeah, yeah)
I gotta tell ya, life without a head kinda makes me irritated
What a bummer
Can't blink, I can't cough, I can't sneeze
But my neck is enjoyin' a pleasant breeze now
Haven't been the same since my head and I were separated
No, no, no
Jean strode on stage and bent to pick up his head. Some guy in the audience whistled and she tossed him around with her TK. Scott laughed at them as
Jean kissed him and carried him off stage.
Author's Note: Hehe, doncha love me when I'm heavily medicated? I had to do this because...Scott just gets on my nerves. Sorry it took me so long to update, I was kinda busy. Next chapter: Bobby and Jean-Paul!