EIGHT
"How can these guys be here!?" Elwood asked Jake as they turned around very slowly, "They're dead!"
"So am I and I'm here," Jake pointed out. He cringed at the sight of the Nazis holding weapons that looked like a cross between a crossbow and a trident at them. "Oh crap, they've got inferno rods!" he lamented.
"What's that?"
"DUCK!!" Jake pushed his brother down as one of the Nazis fired off the inferno rod he was holding. A massive fireball shot out the end of it and roared over their heads, slamming into the wall behind them. Elwood looked up to see that it had taken a huge chunk out of the wall.
"Standard demonic weapon," Jake explained, "As you can see, it destroys pretty much anything it touches. Since these guys are well qualified to be demons, they probably got these the moment they entered Hell."
"And we'll use it on you until you crack," the Head Nazi snarled. "Now just do as I say, Blues, and give us the staff."
"Over my dead body, pal," Jake retorted.
"That's the idea," the Head Nazi chuckled. "You know, it'll be so fun finally killing you, making the world safe from black-loving Catholics like yourselves. You're an embarrassment to the white race, you know that?"
"You keep talking like that and I'm going to have to wash your mouth out!" Jake released a torrent of soap suds from his mouth that inundated the Nazis. "Head for the exit, Elwood!" he shouted to his brother, "I'll hold them off!"
"Right," Elwood took off running. One of the Nazis jumped in his path. "Going somewhere?" he asked sinisterly.
"Yeah, away from you," Elwood gave him a kick in the nuts but was surprised to see it had no effect. The Nazi laughed. "That can no longer hurt me," he sniggered, "I am indestructible!"
He grabbed for the staff. Elwood held it out of his reach. He grabbed the Nazi by the head and smashed him into the wall. The head came right off his shoulders. The Nazi stumbled around blindly looking for it. Elwood kicked it out of his way and rushed for the cavern opening. Once he was safely outside, he turned back to see Jake running sideways along the far wall, narrowly avoiding inferno rod blasts from the other Nazis. "Kill him you incompetent fools, kill him!" the Head Nazi was screaming at them. He fired off a blast from his own inferno rod which just narrowly missed Jake's head. Jake twisted out of harms way, landed on the cavern floor behind them, and fired two blasts of holy energy from his hands into the roof, which started caving in. Jake cart wheeled over to Elwood as the ceiling fell in on the Nazis with a loud crash. "Yeesh, that's got to hurt," Elwood said.
"That won't hold them for long," Jake noted, "We'd best keep moving. Give me the staff."
Elwood handed it to him. Jake looked skyward, apparently expecting some kind of enlightenment, and while none seemed to actually come, he chuckled and said, "You'll never guess where we're going to have to get the next piece, Elwood."
"Where?"
"Back down in Louisiana."
"Ya mean...we gotta go back down there, with...HER waiting there?"
"Don't worry, the preliminary coordinates I'm getting put us well away from her," Jake told him, "And don't worry, her powers would be no match for mine. Come on, we've got a show to close."
"Right," Elwood agreed. As the two of them walked back up to where they'd come in, the Nazis slowly started coming out of the rubble of the cavern. "Come on you idiots!" the Head Nazi screamed at his men, "we can't let them get away!"
Jake and Elwood emerged back on the stage to find the band in rather desperate straights. They were now singing the Rubber Duckie song, likely out of sheer desperation. Tables were now being thrown at them by the few remaining people in the café. Only Ray, unable to see exactly what was going on, seemed to be happy now. Both Marco and Latifah had their heads in their hands at the debacle before them. There were some bright spots that Elwood could notice, though. The first was that Buster had been right—Katrina was a natural singer, and she had the men following her at the moment. Plus, Armstrong seemed to be handling the harmonica quite well—even if he was playing it while hiding behind Willie's drums.
"Well where the hell have you been?" Mack asked Elwood as he came back on stage, "We've been dying out here!"
"Helpin' save the world," Elwood told him. He picked his microphone back up off the holder. "Thank you for coming folks," he told the remaining audience members, "We sure hope to come back soon. Drive home safely."
There was a mass exodus for the exits. "Well, that was a complete waste!" Mr. Fabulous grumbled, tossing his trumpet into its case, "Elwood, why the hell did you bring us here in the first place!?"
"We're on a mission from God," Elwood said, wrapping up some microphone cables.
"Well in the future, either find another place that's less dangerous or leave us out of it," Willie complained, throwing his drumsticks to the ground.
"Okay guys," Jake said, striding out on stage, "Not bad for a first try, but we still need a lot of work."
"So tell us something we don't know," Zee sighed. "Jake, maybe we should think about trying another type of music. I mean, who listens to the blues anymore? Certainly not people this age."
"Well we're the Blues Brothers, we're not the Disco Boys or the Rapster Twins," Elwood pointed out, "Blues are in our blood."
"And our blood starts boiling when you keep leading us down these blind roads," Steve argued. "Face it Elwood, we were great while it lasted, but the blues are dead. Nobody wants us anymore."
"Exactly," Tom added, "Half these kids probably don't even know who we are."
These statements had an effect on Elwood. He slouched down on the stage, feeling more washed up than he'd ever been. What the band was saying was true to an extent; they were has beens—and has beens wanted by the law. Maybe he was just thinking to wistfully that everything would be great if he started singing again. He felt Armstrong's tongue against his face. "Good show, Armstrong," he told the dog, patting his head, "Sorry to put you through all this."
"Excuse me," came a younger voice from in front of him. Elwood looked up to see a boy of about 16 staring at him, looking like he'd just discovered a gold mine. "You are the real Blues Brothers, aren't you?" he asked.
"Well of course we're really them," Elwood said, "Whatdya think, some idiots would go around impersonating us?"
The boy's face lit up. "Oh man, I've been waiting my whole life to meet you guys!" he exclaimed. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a notepad. "Can I have your autograph?" he asked, practically shoving it in Elwood's face.
"Uh, sure," Elwood looked up at Jake, who magically produced a pen in his hand and handed it to him. Elwood signed his name and passed the tablet to Rocky. "Pass it around, Rock, might as well make it a clean sweep," he told his associate. Turning back to the boy, he asked, "And you are...?"
"Keith Danson," the boy told him, "And let me just say I'm your biggest fan in the Tri-State area."
"Danson?" Elwood frowned, "That name sounds so familiar."
"My father's Tony Danson, the railway king," Keith said, looking not overly happy at who his father was.
Elwood snapped his fingers. "Now I know him; he used to be in the orphanage with us, remember Jake?"
"Of course," Jake said, "And if I'm not mistaken, he's still obsessed with making it big like he was then."
"Oh he's always been obsessed with success, all right," Keith sighed, "So much so that I'm ignored half the time."
"Speaking of your father, Keith," a very pretty girl said striding up to him, "you'd better head back now before he comes home from the meeting with the board of directors."
"In a minute, Jennifer, this is what I've been waiting for my whole life," Keith told her. He put his arm around her and told Elwood, "Elwood, meet Jennifer Quinn, the prettiest girl in the Midwest. She and I share a..."
"Seriously, Keith, we'd better get going," Jennifer said, showing him her watch.
"Okay," Keith shrugged. He started to turn away, then stopped and looked back at the Brothers. "Say, maybe if you guys want to come along, I think I have some ideas for you that might get you reenergized musically."
What sort of ideas?" Elwood had to ask.
"Well the way you started off tonight, you were admittedly a little flat," Keith told them, "I suppose that's because you're just starting off again, but I think if you built it up like you did at the Palace Hotel Ballroom, come on stage dramatically, you might make a bigger impression on the audience. Plus, I think you might want to use a couple of more modern songs in your repertoire. It'll bring you more up to date with today's crowds."
"Well like I just said, we're the Blues Brothers, not the..." Elwood began.
"You can keep the blues, Elwood, but I'm saying throw in a little modern rock from time to time to make it more variable," Keith said. "I'll be out front if you want to take me up."
He and Jennifer walked toward the exit. Elwood looked over at Jake. "Whatdya say, do we take him up?" he asked his brother.
"I guess it couldn't hurt," Jake shrugged, "But first things first." He walked over to Latifah, who had her face in her hands. "Is it over yet?" she had to ask.
"This part of our mission is," Jake did the force-wave to her again, "Now you will book us into the Gator Bay Fall Festival in Louisiana three days from now."
Latifah nodded and walked offstage. "Ray," Jake told the music seller, "I want you to build the musical instrument I am now implanting in your head. It will come of use to us in the near future."
He touched Ray's forehead. "Boy, you sure are one imaginative type, man," Ray told him, "Now you've got me cooking."
"I should hope so," Jake said.
"Are we going to get paid for this," Zee called over to him, "The manager left a minute ago without giving us any."
"Don't worry about the money, brother, we'll have a much richer reward once all is said and done with," Jake told him.
"Well if my band left over money, I think money should be somewhat of a factor," Zee argued.
Meanwhile, Elwood patted Katrina on the shoulder. "Ya did good," he told her, "You really do have natural talent."
"Thanks," Katrina gave him a distant smile. She and Buster walked off toward the rest of the band as they slowly picked up their things and headed for the exit. "Ya gonna take care of the kids for us, Rock?" Elwood called to Rocky.
"Actually I'd like to come with you on this, Elwood," Rocky said, looking rather determined, "Mack can handle it, right Mack?"
"Sure thing," Mack waved, tired. He took Buster and Katrina under his wing. Elwood whistled for Armstrong. "Come on boy, we've got some advice to take," he told the dog. He gave Jake a side look. "Let's just hope the kid's ideas are good," he told Jake as they headed for the Bluesmobile, "because if he's going to ruin us with some of that techno-rap stuff that's popular now, we're in big trouble."
No sooner were the Brothers out of the café, however, than the Nazis came charging up on stage. The Head Nazi sniffed the air. "They went that way," he told his men, pointing after them, "Hurry and we might still have a lock on them."
"How can these guys be here!?" Elwood asked Jake as they turned around very slowly, "They're dead!"
"So am I and I'm here," Jake pointed out. He cringed at the sight of the Nazis holding weapons that looked like a cross between a crossbow and a trident at them. "Oh crap, they've got inferno rods!" he lamented.
"What's that?"
"DUCK!!" Jake pushed his brother down as one of the Nazis fired off the inferno rod he was holding. A massive fireball shot out the end of it and roared over their heads, slamming into the wall behind them. Elwood looked up to see that it had taken a huge chunk out of the wall.
"Standard demonic weapon," Jake explained, "As you can see, it destroys pretty much anything it touches. Since these guys are well qualified to be demons, they probably got these the moment they entered Hell."
"And we'll use it on you until you crack," the Head Nazi snarled. "Now just do as I say, Blues, and give us the staff."
"Over my dead body, pal," Jake retorted.
"That's the idea," the Head Nazi chuckled. "You know, it'll be so fun finally killing you, making the world safe from black-loving Catholics like yourselves. You're an embarrassment to the white race, you know that?"
"You keep talking like that and I'm going to have to wash your mouth out!" Jake released a torrent of soap suds from his mouth that inundated the Nazis. "Head for the exit, Elwood!" he shouted to his brother, "I'll hold them off!"
"Right," Elwood took off running. One of the Nazis jumped in his path. "Going somewhere?" he asked sinisterly.
"Yeah, away from you," Elwood gave him a kick in the nuts but was surprised to see it had no effect. The Nazi laughed. "That can no longer hurt me," he sniggered, "I am indestructible!"
He grabbed for the staff. Elwood held it out of his reach. He grabbed the Nazi by the head and smashed him into the wall. The head came right off his shoulders. The Nazi stumbled around blindly looking for it. Elwood kicked it out of his way and rushed for the cavern opening. Once he was safely outside, he turned back to see Jake running sideways along the far wall, narrowly avoiding inferno rod blasts from the other Nazis. "Kill him you incompetent fools, kill him!" the Head Nazi was screaming at them. He fired off a blast from his own inferno rod which just narrowly missed Jake's head. Jake twisted out of harms way, landed on the cavern floor behind them, and fired two blasts of holy energy from his hands into the roof, which started caving in. Jake cart wheeled over to Elwood as the ceiling fell in on the Nazis with a loud crash. "Yeesh, that's got to hurt," Elwood said.
"That won't hold them for long," Jake noted, "We'd best keep moving. Give me the staff."
Elwood handed it to him. Jake looked skyward, apparently expecting some kind of enlightenment, and while none seemed to actually come, he chuckled and said, "You'll never guess where we're going to have to get the next piece, Elwood."
"Where?"
"Back down in Louisiana."
"Ya mean...we gotta go back down there, with...HER waiting there?"
"Don't worry, the preliminary coordinates I'm getting put us well away from her," Jake told him, "And don't worry, her powers would be no match for mine. Come on, we've got a show to close."
"Right," Elwood agreed. As the two of them walked back up to where they'd come in, the Nazis slowly started coming out of the rubble of the cavern. "Come on you idiots!" the Head Nazi screamed at his men, "we can't let them get away!"
Jake and Elwood emerged back on the stage to find the band in rather desperate straights. They were now singing the Rubber Duckie song, likely out of sheer desperation. Tables were now being thrown at them by the few remaining people in the café. Only Ray, unable to see exactly what was going on, seemed to be happy now. Both Marco and Latifah had their heads in their hands at the debacle before them. There were some bright spots that Elwood could notice, though. The first was that Buster had been right—Katrina was a natural singer, and she had the men following her at the moment. Plus, Armstrong seemed to be handling the harmonica quite well—even if he was playing it while hiding behind Willie's drums.
"Well where the hell have you been?" Mack asked Elwood as he came back on stage, "We've been dying out here!"
"Helpin' save the world," Elwood told him. He picked his microphone back up off the holder. "Thank you for coming folks," he told the remaining audience members, "We sure hope to come back soon. Drive home safely."
There was a mass exodus for the exits. "Well, that was a complete waste!" Mr. Fabulous grumbled, tossing his trumpet into its case, "Elwood, why the hell did you bring us here in the first place!?"
"We're on a mission from God," Elwood said, wrapping up some microphone cables.
"Well in the future, either find another place that's less dangerous or leave us out of it," Willie complained, throwing his drumsticks to the ground.
"Okay guys," Jake said, striding out on stage, "Not bad for a first try, but we still need a lot of work."
"So tell us something we don't know," Zee sighed. "Jake, maybe we should think about trying another type of music. I mean, who listens to the blues anymore? Certainly not people this age."
"Well we're the Blues Brothers, we're not the Disco Boys or the Rapster Twins," Elwood pointed out, "Blues are in our blood."
"And our blood starts boiling when you keep leading us down these blind roads," Steve argued. "Face it Elwood, we were great while it lasted, but the blues are dead. Nobody wants us anymore."
"Exactly," Tom added, "Half these kids probably don't even know who we are."
These statements had an effect on Elwood. He slouched down on the stage, feeling more washed up than he'd ever been. What the band was saying was true to an extent; they were has beens—and has beens wanted by the law. Maybe he was just thinking to wistfully that everything would be great if he started singing again. He felt Armstrong's tongue against his face. "Good show, Armstrong," he told the dog, patting his head, "Sorry to put you through all this."
"Excuse me," came a younger voice from in front of him. Elwood looked up to see a boy of about 16 staring at him, looking like he'd just discovered a gold mine. "You are the real Blues Brothers, aren't you?" he asked.
"Well of course we're really them," Elwood said, "Whatdya think, some idiots would go around impersonating us?"
The boy's face lit up. "Oh man, I've been waiting my whole life to meet you guys!" he exclaimed. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a notepad. "Can I have your autograph?" he asked, practically shoving it in Elwood's face.
"Uh, sure," Elwood looked up at Jake, who magically produced a pen in his hand and handed it to him. Elwood signed his name and passed the tablet to Rocky. "Pass it around, Rock, might as well make it a clean sweep," he told his associate. Turning back to the boy, he asked, "And you are...?"
"Keith Danson," the boy told him, "And let me just say I'm your biggest fan in the Tri-State area."
"Danson?" Elwood frowned, "That name sounds so familiar."
"My father's Tony Danson, the railway king," Keith said, looking not overly happy at who his father was.
Elwood snapped his fingers. "Now I know him; he used to be in the orphanage with us, remember Jake?"
"Of course," Jake said, "And if I'm not mistaken, he's still obsessed with making it big like he was then."
"Oh he's always been obsessed with success, all right," Keith sighed, "So much so that I'm ignored half the time."
"Speaking of your father, Keith," a very pretty girl said striding up to him, "you'd better head back now before he comes home from the meeting with the board of directors."
"In a minute, Jennifer, this is what I've been waiting for my whole life," Keith told her. He put his arm around her and told Elwood, "Elwood, meet Jennifer Quinn, the prettiest girl in the Midwest. She and I share a..."
"Seriously, Keith, we'd better get going," Jennifer said, showing him her watch.
"Okay," Keith shrugged. He started to turn away, then stopped and looked back at the Brothers. "Say, maybe if you guys want to come along, I think I have some ideas for you that might get you reenergized musically."
What sort of ideas?" Elwood had to ask.
"Well the way you started off tonight, you were admittedly a little flat," Keith told them, "I suppose that's because you're just starting off again, but I think if you built it up like you did at the Palace Hotel Ballroom, come on stage dramatically, you might make a bigger impression on the audience. Plus, I think you might want to use a couple of more modern songs in your repertoire. It'll bring you more up to date with today's crowds."
"Well like I just said, we're the Blues Brothers, not the..." Elwood began.
"You can keep the blues, Elwood, but I'm saying throw in a little modern rock from time to time to make it more variable," Keith said. "I'll be out front if you want to take me up."
He and Jennifer walked toward the exit. Elwood looked over at Jake. "Whatdya say, do we take him up?" he asked his brother.
"I guess it couldn't hurt," Jake shrugged, "But first things first." He walked over to Latifah, who had her face in her hands. "Is it over yet?" she had to ask.
"This part of our mission is," Jake did the force-wave to her again, "Now you will book us into the Gator Bay Fall Festival in Louisiana three days from now."
Latifah nodded and walked offstage. "Ray," Jake told the music seller, "I want you to build the musical instrument I am now implanting in your head. It will come of use to us in the near future."
He touched Ray's forehead. "Boy, you sure are one imaginative type, man," Ray told him, "Now you've got me cooking."
"I should hope so," Jake said.
"Are we going to get paid for this," Zee called over to him, "The manager left a minute ago without giving us any."
"Don't worry about the money, brother, we'll have a much richer reward once all is said and done with," Jake told him.
"Well if my band left over money, I think money should be somewhat of a factor," Zee argued.
Meanwhile, Elwood patted Katrina on the shoulder. "Ya did good," he told her, "You really do have natural talent."
"Thanks," Katrina gave him a distant smile. She and Buster walked off toward the rest of the band as they slowly picked up their things and headed for the exit. "Ya gonna take care of the kids for us, Rock?" Elwood called to Rocky.
"Actually I'd like to come with you on this, Elwood," Rocky said, looking rather determined, "Mack can handle it, right Mack?"
"Sure thing," Mack waved, tired. He took Buster and Katrina under his wing. Elwood whistled for Armstrong. "Come on boy, we've got some advice to take," he told the dog. He gave Jake a side look. "Let's just hope the kid's ideas are good," he told Jake as they headed for the Bluesmobile, "because if he's going to ruin us with some of that techno-rap stuff that's popular now, we're in big trouble."
No sooner were the Brothers out of the café, however, than the Nazis came charging up on stage. The Head Nazi sniffed the air. "They went that way," he told his men, pointing after them, "Hurry and we might still have a lock on them."