Chapter Three: And So It Begins
After five minutes of collecting song choices, Bartimaeus realized they had a problem: about half of the people here no concept of modern music and would request to sing songs like "The Fate of the Ents" or "The Warrior's Chant" or even worse "The Foe in Durza". Bartimaeus realized he was going to need some sort of test to separate the ones who knew "real" music from those who didn't. Hmmm…
"If you've ever heard the song "Heartbreak Hotel", go sit over there!" he yelled.
A look of confusion spread across the faces of even the modern-looking ones. "What's that?" someone shouted.
"A song by Elvis… Surely you must have heard of Elvis!" Bartimaeus responded, aghast.
"Elvis…The old guy?"
"Could you sing some of it?" a plea rose from the group.
Oh, dear, he thought. Out loud, he began to sing, "Ever since my baby left me/I've found a new place to dwell/it's down at the end of a lonely street/At Heartbreak Hotel. That enough?"
"That was plenty," they responded. At least Faquarl isn't here, Bartimaeus thought gloomily. He addressed the group that didn't know popular music. "You people are going perform after these guys. That way you'll hear a lot of current music before you have to sing any. Got it?" They nodded.
After getting the song choices of those who could sing, Bartimaeus reported his success to Nathaniel. He asked if Bartimaeus could move him to the auditorium to watch. He picked Nathaniel up, chair, ropes, and all, and set him down in the back of the auditorium.
"You know, Nat, I had an idea. Why don't we rate the contestants on a scale of one to ten? It would be fun, if nothing else," Bartimaeus mused.
"You're the boss," Nathaniel garbled happily.
"No, I'm not," Bartimaeus reminded him.
"You're the one doing all the work. I'm just calling the shots," Nathaniel countered.
Bartimaeus considered this development. "Yeah, you're right. I am doing all the work. Do you want to be a judge?"
Nathaniel nodded a little too enthusiastically for an eighteen year old, but on the other hand, he didn't know how old he was. And even if he did, he wouldn't know what it meant. This could definitely be an improvement.
After sitting everyone down in the auditorium, Bartimaeus explained the latest development. Most of the contestants stared at him blankly, but several muttered the phrase "American Idol". There was a long silence.
"So…" Bartimaeus ventured. "Who wants to go first?"
No one wanted to go first.
"The sooner you sing, the sooner you're free," Bartimaeus stated.
Hesitantly, some brave souls raised their hands. Bartimaeus sighed with relief. "Okay, you," he said, pointing to one. "You're up."
The blond girl who had been worrying about someone named Visser Three stepped up to the microphone. A silence descended over the crowd.
"What's your name?" Bartimaeus asked.
"Rachel," she responded monosyllabically.
"Rachel, what?" Nathaniel asked innocently.
"Just Rachel," Rachel answered.
"What are you singing?" Bartimaeus inquired, businesslike.
"Break Away, by Kelly Clarkson," Rachel replied.
"Okay," Nathaniel said, spacing out again. Bartimaeus kicked him.
"Go ahead," Bartimaeus told her.
Halfway through the song Marco started cracking up, only to every other Animorph (minus Ax) whack him. But that's what you get.
She finished and people cheered, to save themselves whacking. Bartimaeus stood up.
"First of all, good job. Second, you can stay and watch awhile, go straight home, or whack your amused friend. The choice is yours."
She thought about it. "I'll stay and watch, but do I have to stay till it's over?" Rachel asked.
"No."
"Okay then."
Bartimaeus sighed. One down, fifty-four to go.
(A//N: I will not be writing fifty-four more chapters. It just sounded good.)