"Later, Mom!" Sour Cream called to Vidalia, waving goodbye as he walked to a cart wagon full of music equipment. "This is gonna be sick." He places his laptop on top of the wagon and smiled.
Connie gave a grunt walking out of the garage carrying 2 big boxes. Her hair was tied into a messy bun so she could work more efficiently.
"Thanks for helping me pack up, Connie." Sour Cream said. He walked up and took the boxes from her. "These are probably heavy for yo-" Sour Cream gave a cry, it was extremely heavy!
"Yeah, I needed something to take my mind off things." Connie shrugged, holding the boxes with one hand.
Sour Cream placed the boxes into the cart, not seeing his stepfather, Yellowtail, walk up with a briefcase full of fish, that water leaked out of. He dropped it when seeing his step son packing up to go.
He walked up and talked to him in his own language, Connie didn't understand it at all, but Sour Cream sure did.
"Ugh. No, I can't be home by 10, I'm doing a show tonight, Yellowtail." Sour Cream growled.
Yellowtail furrowed his eyebrows and started up again, angry.
"It is too a viable career! 80 percent of Germans make their living Deejay'ing! Why can't you just accept that I don't want to be a fishermen like you?" The teen insisted angrily. He then turned and stomped away.
Connie felt awkward and gave a small smile. "Er, have a good night, sir!"
Yellowtail made some sounds back which she assumed was a goodbye to her.
Connie ran up after Sour Cream with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I just can't deal with my stepdad on my case all the time. Why would I want to bring home fish when I can bring home sick beats? If he has to "Ma ma ma" so much about it, he doesn't have to come." Sour Cream muttered with his arms crossed. "Ugh. All that arguing messed up my stomach."
They stopped their walk at the police station and Sour Cream went into to go to the restroom. Connie saw her dad sitting in his car and grinned.
"Dad! Hey!" Connie called, running up to knock on a window of the car.
Doug started in surprise but then smiled. He soon walked out and hugged her. "Hi, pumpkin! What are you doing here?"
"I'm helping Sour Cream move his equipment, he has a show tonight." Connie explained.
"Ah. Fun fact, honey, in the music business, they call that a roadie." Doug informed her. Connie frowned.
"That feels… degrading." She said with a tiny sound. "Anyway, are you on a stakeout?"
"Huh? Oh, no." Doug laughed, looking back it his car. "They said they'll tell me when they come up with something to do, nothing yet…"
"Oh." Connie peeped. She then grinned and tried to cheer him up. "Well, you're the best man on the team, they're probally saving you for the real work, Dad."
Doug smiled and put his arm around her. "Thanks, pumpkin."
Suddenly, a large yellow bus, with blue tinted windows rolled into the parking lot. It looked like something out of a movie!
Doug frowned and walked up. "Excuse me, sir, this is staff parking only, I'm going to have to ask you to-"
The door to the bus opened and a white-haired man walked out, wearing strange attire. Connie recognized him, but Doug did faster.
"Marty." Doug growled.
Connie walked up with her eyes narrowed and Doug held out a hand to stop her.
"It's fine, Connie." He whispered, pushing her behind him.
"Well, well, Star Child, Are you some kind of officer of the law now?" Marty chuckled. "You quit the music biz? Eh, you wouldn't have made it that far anyway."
Connie clenched her hand as a single spark of electricity came out of her finger. What a jerk!
"Yes, well," Doug looked uncomfortable and frowned. "I-I stopped a long time ago, when my daughter was born." He nodded to Connie.
Connie stepped out from behind him and held out her hand straight. She wanted to make her dad look good, and always had to be polite, no matter who it was. "My name's Connie, sir, pleased to meet you."
"Whoa! Didn't know you had it in you, Doug." Marty laughed, making Doug grit his teeth. He ignore Connie's hand and bent down. "Guess I better call you, Star Child Jr."
"My name's Connie, sir." Connie frowned. "And if you feel you have to nickname me, I prefer Diamond Child, thank you." She walked back to her father and grimaced when Marty laughed.
"As I was saying before, Marty, I need you to move, this is parking for officers-"
"You talk too much, Star Child." Marty interrupted Doug. "You and I have some unfinished business." He started to take out a letter from his jacket when Sour Cream walked up.
He didn't notice Marty at first. "Sorry, Mr. U, totally clogged the-" He turned and then finally saw Marty. "WHOA! Dad?!"
"Sour Cream?" Marty whispered, as if realizing that was indeed his son.
"W-What are you doing here?" Sour Cream asked softly.
Marty gave a laugh, clearly still surprised. "Uh...S.C. Oof! Just look at you. When did you get so tall?"
Sour Cream looked a bit upset. "Like, 9 years ago?"
His father chuckled nervously and then cleared his throat. "Sorry I've been gone so long, but you know how the music biz can be, r-i-i-ight?" He put a hand through his hair, as if trying to escape this conversation.
Sour Cream looked mistefied. "No. Can you tell me about it?"
Marty started to exsplain to his son the ins-and-outs of music business, while Connie watched with anger and whisper-hissed to her father. "I honestly wondered if those two were related, but I hoped I was wrong, Sour Cream doesn't deserve such a awful man for a dad!"
"Connie, stay calm." Doug whispered back. "He's his dad, no matter what we think about him, if Sour Cream wants to talk to him, let him."
Connie frowned but soon gave a small nod. "Ok…" She trudged out to the music equipment and avoided listening to Marty's rambling excuses to why he hadn't been around. "Um, Sour Cream? I hate to interrupt you, but should I finish haling this equipment to the warehouse while you two catch up?"
"What's this about equipment?" Marty asked, and saw the metal cart of equipment. Connie frowned as he walked . "Hello! What do you got going on over here, my friend?"
"Just getting ready to set up for this semi-annual deejay night rave thing I do in Beach City." Sour Cream shrugged.
"A rave, you say?" Marty stroked his non-existent beard, the wheels in his head clearly turning. Connie didn't like it. "Hmm... S.C., I have a great idea. I've decided to hang out in Beach City and, um... make up for lost time with you. And while we're... chillin', I'll promote your little engagement." He gave his son his business card.
"What's this shiny card with your contact info on it?" Sour Cream asked with wonder, he had never seen such professionalism.
"Just a little something we pro music types call a laminated business card." Marty smirked.
"That is so legit!" Sour Cream cried.
"Man, you're so lucky your dad's in the biz." Marty chuckled. "throwing a cool semi-annual Deejay rave thing is a classic father-son bonding experience."
Sour Cream frowned. That… didn't sound right. "More classic than fishing?"
"Just wait! We're gonna cram years of bonding into one spectacular event!" Marty laughed, putting his arm around his son.
Marty was utterly disgusted at the warehouse. "This is it?" He gagged, looking at the equipment. "It's so... puny. I mean, what is this? A concert for ants?"
"Aunts, uncles - music is for everybody." Sour Cream shrugged.
Connie was about to tell him that wasn't what Marty meant, but the teen was pulled away by his dad.
"Listen, buddy, you want to reach people, right?" Marty asked, wrapping a arm around the boy.
"Yeah…" Sour Cream whispered.
"You want to hold them in your little hand, right?" The man looked at Connie and the girl hid slightly behind her hair.
"Uh, I guess so."
Marty then clenched his fist firmly, and made it look like Connie was squeezed his hand. "You want to squeeze them until their eyes pop out!"
"Uh, you lost me a little." Sour Cream said, that sounded way too much…
"What I'm saying is, if you want to bring people in, you can't play out in the sticks! you got to be where the people are!"
They stood on the beach, and Marty laughed. "Now this is more like it! We'll set up right here in the sand."
"No, not here." Connie said immediately. "I don't know if you remember, Marty, but my father performed here, and only one person showed. Can we go somewhere else?"
Marty suddenly wrapped his arms around both Connie and Sour Cream, and pulled them close. Connie fought the urge to pull away.
"Okay. Can I real talk with you for a second? Real talk." Sour Cream and Connie glanced at him with confusion. "I made a lot of mistakes before, when I was your dad's manager,"
Connie agreed.
"and - real talk? - I was a jerk."
Very true.
"but - real talk - I've learned a lot about myself and the music business since then. So I can tell you, with certainty, things aren't gonna be like last time. Real talk."
He finally released them.
"Wow, Yellowtail never real talks with me." Sour Cream muttered.
"That's what it's like to work with a professional, kid. Now, hold on. I'm gonna work some magic." He turned away from the kids, and went on his phone, most likely calling for more equipment.
About a hour later, Marty had covered Sour Cream's eyes. "Okay. you ready?" He removed his hand to reveal a large sheet covering the Beach City water tank, and it was a poster of Sour Cream himself, deejay'ing. The poster seemed to pop out at them. "Boom!"
"Wow! Am I... glowing?" Sour Cream asked softly, entranced by it.
"That's right. nothing less for my talented, soon-to-be-famous Dj!" Marty laughed.
A few minutes later, they were standing in front of a bus, watching official people that were paid for it unload things. Very expensive things for Djaying.
"Wow!" Spur Cream gasped again. His dream kept getting better! "I've only seen gear this good on the internet. Is this for me?"
"It's for us, my main cool cat!" Marty smirked.
His son smiled and once again said. "Wow." Before continuing to speak. "I can totally rave to this."
"Sour Cream," Connie said, walking up. "you look like you have enough help here, but if you need-"
"Star Child Jr., catch." Marty called suddenly and threw lanyard at her.
It promently hit her in the face and she winced. "What…" She looked down to see the tag said, official roadie. "I… I didn't really want this-"
"You're welcome, kid. Now, go help out." Marty said, as if wanting her to leave.
Connie frowned, but put it on and went to unload. She got two extremely heavy looking boxes and carried them out with ease.
"Jeez! Can a girl that small even do that?" Marty cried in surprise.
Sour Cream shrugged.
Connie watched them talking about the set nearby and angrily put down the box. She didn't like that man, he always seemed sinister behind those glinting sunglasses. She looked out at the sunset and was surprised to see Yellowtail, who was watching Sour Cream through binoculars, he looked worried about him…. Connie was too.
A few hours later, and the stage was all ready. Connie shyly walked out on the stage and there were light cheers for her as the town recognized her.
Connie got on her tip-toes and turned on the microphone. "Um, just here to do a mic check." She said. "Testing… testing 1,2,3, this sounds pretty good." She smiled. Not too loud, or too soft.
She walked off stage and smiled to Sour Cream. "We're all set!"
Sour Cream nodded, excited. "Okay, I guess I'll go out and get started."
Connie was about to let him go when Marty walked up behind him, and stopped the teen.
"That's not how we do things in the music biz." Marty chuckled to his son, as if he had so much to learn. "Let a proper hype man set the stage for you."
"Woah. I've never been properly hyped before." Sour Cream smiled. "Thanks, Dad!"
Marty moonwalked backwards and made little finger guns at him, that must've meant no problem.
The crowd cheered as Marty came on, and random bystander yelling, "It's some random guy!"
"How you feeling, Beach Ci-taay!" Marty called into the mic, making the people cheer excitedly. "You know, I've always been someone with good tastes, so you got to believe me. This show is special to me. It's personal."
Backstage, Sour Cream smiled happily. Connie glanced at his face and couldn't help smiling herself. Despite Marty seeming self-indulgent, he at least cared about his son, and wanted to make him happy. Connie could accept that part of him.
"Because I want to introduce you to a fresh, raw experience, to a whole new flavor," Sour Cream felt his heart swell. His dad was here, he was helping him, he had finally come back home, and it was most likely not to happen, but maybe he could even visit more often. "To a brand new... Soda!"
And those hopes and dream shattered.
"What?!" Sour Cream yelled in anger.
Connie felt her hands ball into fists, and she was suddenly filled with rage. How dare he?! This was his son!
"GUACOLA!" Marty yelled out with excitement. The electric billboard above him lit up with the name and everything else started up a gross neon green shad. Air horns blared and people were very confused.
"That's right. Guacola! The World's first guacamole soda. Each can comes with the power of three whole avocados!" Marty cried, as if that was amazing, and sounded even the slightest appealing. "Now, come on, Beach City. Are you ready to guac?" He took out a can and threw it at Ronaldo, promptly hitting him in the stomach.
The teen gave a groan and fell over as Jenny picked up the can.
Connie picked up a nearby can and opened it, taking a sip. She immediately spit it out. "Ugh! This is utterly disgusting! I actually liked avocados before this!" She threw the can into the garbage, not noticing the yellow sparks coming from it
The crowd was just as upset, Jenny dumping out the can and it falling into a pile of goop.
"That's nasty." Buck grunted.
Ronaldo gave a moan, taking out chips and trying it on them. It still was terrible! "It's not even good on chips!" He yelled in anger.
Connie gave a growl, Marty ruined her father's show, he tried to stop her dad from going back to her mother, he had little to no respect for her, not even calling her by name, and now, he ruined her friend's show! She grabbed a speaker cord and willingly let her powers go into it. She would calm down when Marty was gone.
The music and lights flickered out and Connie glanced at Sour Cream.
"What… where'd the power go?!" Marty growled.
"Get off the stage, and exsplain this! Now!" Connie yelled at him.
"You think I'm going to listen to you?" Marty growled.
"NOW!" Connie yelled louder, the lights and music flickered harshly.
Marty looked frightened at her powers and slowly walked off stage.
"Give him a piece of your mind, Sour Cream, this outage won't be long." Connie whispered.
"Thanks, Connie." Sour Cream grunted, running up the steps to confront his father.
Yellowtail walked up, Connie now realizing he had indeed come. Doug was close behind.
"He let another teen down, not surprising." Doug sighed in disappointment, knowing this had to be Marty.
"I just wanted-" Connie paused seeing Yellowtail stomp away. "Wait! Yellowtail, where are you going?!"
"Dad, you've ruined my show!" Sour Cream cried in anger.
"This isn't your show. How do you think we have this setup, this party bus, these roadies? I've gotta good deal with Guacola. You're lucky I'm letting you in on the ground floor." Marty growled back.
"But I thought this was about making up for lost time, not some lame soda." Sour Cream protested.
"Look, kid, I need this guacola deal, okay? Don't be selfish!"
Sour Cream's eyes widened. Selfish? Selfish?! He gave a grunt in anger, yelling Yellowtail and Onion's language at him. "Muh! Muh muh muh! muh muh muh muh muh! Muh muh muh!" He pointed acusungly at Marty. "Muh-muh!"
"What did you say?" Marty hissed.
"Muh…" Sour Cream blushed and went back to a language his father understood. "Ugh. I said I don't need you or guacola to do what I wanna do! I never have! I can do this show on my own!"
Marty narrowed his eyes. "Fine."
He walked away again from Sour Cream, and Connie let the power back on.
He stomped up to Doug and thrust out an envelope. "Universe, I only came here because I'm legally obligated to give you this."
"Huh?" Doug muttered in surprise, taking it.
"Don't say I've never gave you nothin'." Marty grumbled, seeing Connie run up to her father. The white-haired man glared at her and she happily ignored it. The man then got in his party bus, the roadies had left with the equipment, and drove away finally, no one knowing when or if he would ever come back.
Doug inspected the letter that was labeled, 'Star Child'.
Sour Cream sighed and walked up to Connie on the beach. "Well, I guess that's it. So much for me and the music biz."
"I'm sorry, Sour Cream." Connie sighed softly.
Doug turned slightly, hearing a faint horn. "Does anyone else hear that?"
They then saw Yellowtail riding up in his boat at full speed. The man gave a few yells in his language, waving his arms in a attempt to get thier attention.
"Aw, man! it's my stepdad. He was just waiting for me to fail so he can get me and put me to work on his boat." Sour Cream growled, failing his arms up in defeat. The boat soon ran into the beach, sand pilling up against it. Sour Cream reglugtently walked up. "Fine. Take me to your big smelly boat so I can fish my life away!"
Yellowtail took out a black box and leapt out. "Ma-ma-ma, ma-ma-ma, ma-ma-ma." He said softly.
"It's... my old gear?" Sour Cream frowned, surprised.
"Ma-ma ma-ma-ma-ma-ma ma!" His stepdad replied excitedly.
"What? you want me to play?"
Yellowtail nodded.
"Gee... uh... thanks, Yellow Dad." He smiled, finally accepting him into his family. He offered a handshake.
Yellowtail looked so, so happy. He hugged his stepson, muttering something, and Sour Cream laughed.
"Good one, dad!" The teen then turned to Connie. "Hey, Connie, since you're still my official…" He didn't use roadie, he knew she hated that. "helper, help me set up."
"Of course!" Connie beamed.
About a half a hour later, and Sour Cream was ready to preform. "Let's kick it!" He called happily, throwing out glow sticks to a cheering crowd.
The town danced and raved, and it included Sour Cream's family, his real family.
Doug and Connie watched from afar, smiling.
"The music busseniess is awfully hard to get into." Doug said matter of factly. "We saw that today."
"Yeah… But Sour Cream is talented, I'm certain he will be just fine." Connie replied softly.
"Even if he doesn't make it big, that boy be okay, as long as he's doing something that makes him happy." Doug smiled, remembering his years as a teen. "And even if it doesn't pay well, it's a good hobby to have." The man took out the letter that Marty gave him and opened it. "You know, it's not always about the money when you do som-" Suddenly a big smile appeared on his face. "By jove!"
"Dad? Are you okay?" Connie asked, peeking over his shoulder. She then saw the check and her eyes turned to diamonds. "Ten million dollars?! That's incredible!"