Disclaimer: I own nothing. I don't even have the roaches or a tarantula.
A/N: You might want to go into this with a serious suspension of disbelief.
They hadn't gotten very much attention since the lady with the brown hair started coming around all the time, so the roaches decided to do something about it.
There were a few meetings around the halved banana with ideas tossed around. Someone suggested they make a ladder out of themselves and push up the top of the terrarium (though they referred to it as Roachtopia) so they could scurry out and wait for B.O.S., the bringer of sustenance, on the kitchen counter where he dropped his keys every time he came through the door. They didn't know his name was Gil, or Grissom, because he never called himself that in front of them, so they had to come up with their own name, although for ease in telling this story we'll just refer to him as Grissom.
Another brought up the idea that they all go on hunger strike, but that was quickly shot down. They might be starved for attention, but they didn't want to starve literally as well.
Greg the roach, the newest addition named as such by Grissom because he always went the wrong direction or did little roach dances on race day instead of running, wanted to do acrobatics like they had seen on the TV, where they all make pyramids and do flying leaps to the top of the stack of ten chairs. The other roaches just looked at him like he was crazy and continued discussions after reminding him that they didn't have any chairs.
Finally, it was decided that they learn how to sing a song for him. There were six of them all together, and it would take a lot of work and practice, but they didn't really have that much else to do during the day besides eat, sleep and mate. And the mating part was difficult at best since Grissom seemed to only bring in males. There was a lot of frustration in Roachtopia.
The roaches were aware that they couldn't sing in words that Grissom could understand, but they did know how to talk in a hissing language. They figured that as long as they could manage doing it together, at the same time, the same way that they heard it on the stereo, Grissom would be impressed with their skills and spend a little more quality time with them.
Picking out a song turned out to be quite a dilemma for the sextet, but they were able to convince Houdini the tarantula to creep out of his goldfish bowl and turn on the CD player.
The roaches might not know Grissom's name, but they were smart enough to figure out where the music came from.
The first disc that played was less than useful; six roaches were not enough to sing the opera called Carmen. Not to mention the problems inherent with the multiple layers of sound that would be difficult to transpose into a relatively recognizable hissing song.
The second disc wasn't any more useful than the first; the jazz music that flowed from the speakers was all improvised and didn't have a recognizable melody that they could use.
Disc three, now that one had potential. A pair of men was singing about Cecilia and how she was breaking his heart. It started out with some jaunty little percussion action that the roach named Archimedes really enjoyed. The other roaches let him practice that part, him banging his little roach legs on the side of the plastic tub that held their water. Archimedes wasn't very good at hissing in unison with them anyway.
Houdini was kind enough to put the song on repeat so they could practice along with the song before striking out on their own. It took them a few hours of repeats to get the gist of it, much to the dismay of Houdini who really wanted to use the time to nap instead of listening to roach choir practice.
The roaches practiced diligently for over a week before they felt confident enough in their skill level to perform publicly. Houdini had given them the tarantula equivalent of a thumbs up on the song sounding like the CD did so they spent the next few days waiting for the perfect opportunity.
They had even worked out a very simple choreography with some synchronized swimming-type moves they had seen on an old Esther Williams movie Grissom had fallen asleep to one morning. They were ready.
Finally, the time came. Grissom had come home with the lady and they were sitting on the sofa drinking wine and cuddling. Though the cuddling nauseated the very frustrated roaches, they began their song.
Archimedes tipped over the water tub and started banging out the rhythm to their song as the other five got into formation.
'Cecilia, you're breaking my heart, you're shaking my confidence daily' the little roaches hissed in unison while Archimedes got jiggy back there on their plastic water bowl. 'Oh Cecilia, I'm down on my knees, I'm begging you please to come home… Come on home. Making love in the afternoon with Cecilia up in my bedroom. I got up to wash my face, when I got back to bed someone's taken my place…'
The lady with the brown hair looked up at the roaches as they began circling in formation and raising their left wings in time with Archimedes' jamming. Houdini was in his bowl, tapping a leg along with the beat as he enjoyed the show.
"Griss, I think we've had too much wine. I must be drunk or something, I think the roaches are singing to us…"
Grissom had finally noticed them! The roaches were only further encouraged as they saw the grey haired man stand up and walk over to Roachtopia, and doubled their efforts as the roaches all did a counterclockwise turn in unison.
"What the? What kind of wine was that Sara? Because I do believe they are dancing as well, and I think they are singing Simon and Garfunkle's Cecilia… And they've tipped over their water and one of them is flailing his legs over top of the bowl."
"Please tell me I'm imagining the tarantula with its front legs in the air swaying along with them!"
Their audience stood in rapt silence, mouths hanging open in awe, as the roaches finished their song. The performers then lined up at the front of Roachtopia and all stood on their rear legs, all holding their little roach hand equivalents and took a bow.
