Chapter Two: Enjoy Your Stay

Bartimaeus, as usual, was correct. It was an extremely long day. Gallivanting across dimensions, sedating the more hostile captives, and chaining them all to the dungeon before they woke up was not his idea of fun. But, luckily, the preparations were finished and this whole thing would be done soon. The contest competitors were beginning to wake up, so Bartimaeus decided that now would be a good time to explain this situation.

"Okay, people. Are all of you awake?" he asked first.

A general chorus of "Yes", "Yeah", "Not quite", and "Give me five more minutes" rose over the group. Some things don't change.

"Good enough. First off, you should know I'm not any happier about this than you are. Let's just get that clear. All right, then. I kidnapped all of you to have you participate in a karaoke contest," Bartimaeus explained.

A much less kind chorus rose from the group, this one consisting of cursing, threats, and snores.

"I was on orders. Anyway, my master says either you people can sing, or we'll leave you chained to the wall indefinitely. I don't care what you choose, but I'm personally hoping to get out of here, and indefinite prison stretches for you mean waiting around for me."

"Your master?" a black-robed, yellow-eyed figure asked. "Are you a Jedi?"

"Is that an insult?" Bartimaeus inquired uncertainly.

"Of course not!" a bearded man called. "It's a position of the highest-"

"Put a sock in it, Kenobi!" the first speaker advised.

"People, please! I really don't want to sedate you again. It's too hard to sing that way. If you're planning on getting it over with, raise your hand, give me your name, and tell me what song you want to sing. After that, sit tight, and I'll take you all out to the auditorium," Bartimaeus ordered.

"Auditorium?" a child with arrows on his head repeated.

"Yes, you'll have to sing in front of an audience, namely your fellow prisoners."

Chatter broke out at this remark. Everyone seemed to want to see who else was there, checking his or her friends (or enemies) wouldn't witness the fiasco.

"I just hope Malfoy isn't here," a boy in glasses said.

"You can forget that, Potter," a sneering voice drawled.

"Frankly, I don't care whether or not Visser Three hears me sing. I just don't want him to recognize me," a blond girl worried.

He won't, unless you go on as a bear, a blue being assured her.

"You might improve your singing some, though," another member of their group, teased.

"Yeah, we all know how excellent your singing is, Marco," she shot back.

"Has anyone seen Julius? If he's not here, I'll just do it. If so…" a short, hairy individual wondered.

"I haven't seen him," a pale teenager informed him. "Have you, Butler?"

"I can't sing, Uncle, my voice is too hoarse," a scarred character complained.

"Well, you could always-"his uncle began.

"For the last time, I'm not playing the sungy-horn!"

"You could always sing that ballad of the Ring, Strider," a petite entity told his taller friend.

"It's not a ballad, Pippin!" another one spoke up. "It's a legend. Even I know that."

"Whenever elves sing, do things just come out of the plants, or do you have to sing to it?" yet another diminutive figure inquired.

"We have to sing to it. What else would we do? You should learn more about elven culture, Orik, and then you wouldn't speak to nonexistent beings so much," a tall woman answered.

And numerous other conversations Bartimaeus didn't quite catch.

"Get over it! Yes, you'll have to sing in front of everyone! It beats Shriveling Fire! For the Other Places' sake!" he broke out with. That stopped up conversation a bit.

"Soooo," Bartimaeusdrawled awkwardly. "Any volunteers?"