SEVENTEEN

"Ya can't leave!!" Elwood protested, "We're like second cousins twice removed! Closer even!"

"Forget it Elwood, this is it!" Willie growled as he loaded his personal belongings into the taxi he'd hailed down at the bus station the group had stopped at, "I'm tired of running from the cops and constantly ducking from engagement to engagement! I'm going back to Chicago, and none of Jake's fancy shmancy holy stuff'll make me change my mind this time!"

"I agree with that assessment," Murphy added, tossing in his own stuff, "I could get more excitement from the Double-Up Lounge, if it's even still standing."

"You always want to hit the big time, Elwood," Willie sniggered as he and Murphy climbed into the cab, "Let's see you do it without a drummer or keyboardist." He and Murphy chuckled as they sped off into the night. Elwood groaned in disappointment. He was hoping to keep the band together this time, but desertion had now actually happened, and the remaining band members looked like they'd stroll off into the sunset at the drop of a hat themselves. At least his fellow brothers looked like they wanted to keep the faith at the moment.

"He's right," Steve said, "We're screwed without them. I think this band just lost its juice."

"Oh ye of little faith," Jake snorted, "Didn't you think I would have a backup plan?"

"Probably, but we hoped you wouldn't invoke it and keep us stuck with you," Tom sighed.

"Sorry to disappoint you then," Jake split himself into three selves. "Don't go anywhere," all three of them told the party, then dashed off to Lord knew where. Five seconds later, he was completely back. "Gentlemen, meet Paul "the Shiv" Shaffer, Steve "Getdwa" Jordan, and Tom "Triple Scale" Scott, our replacements," he announced grandly.

"You're using my guys?" Zee was both surprised and impressed.

"Zee, what just happened?" Jordan demanded, looking shocked to suddenly be in Louisiana, a sentiment that appeared to be shared by his bandmates, "Who are these guys?"

"We're the Blues Brothers, "Elwood told him, shaking his hand, "Thanks for joinin' the band."

"Wait a minute, we haven't joined anything yet!" Paul protested, "What's going on here anyway!?"

"We're on a mission from God," Elwood said.

"We needed a keyboardist and drummer, so you were the best I could find on just short notice," Jake told them.

"He's dead," Elwood pointed out.

"I see," Scott said numbly, "And then just why am I here?"

"For years I always wanted a fourth horn, and since you were conveniently available, I figured, what the heaven, might as well bring you too," Jake told him, "And from what I've seen, you're great with a sax."

"Does this mean you're pushing me out, Jake!?" Lou demanded, looking quite upset.

"Not at all, Lou; in fact, you're still our number one sax," Jake reassured him, "He'll have to follow your lead."

"Thanks, you bring me down and make me a second banana; go figure," Scott muttered.

"Actually this is good for me," Tom said, "Now I can stick to just the trombone."

"Now this is just temporary, isn't it?" Paul inquired, "Because I got a big deal from a friend of mine who might get me a spot at CBS and..."

"You won't worry about CBS for now," Jake force-waved him quiet. "Now you guys go bond, and we'll be on the road again soon."

"You better know what you're doing here, Zee," Jordan warned his former boss as the band shuffled off, "Because if this is just some stunt to get us back in the till, I'll sue."

"Believe me, Getdwa, I'm not calling the shots with this one," Zee admitted.

Clarence, who'd been mostly silent since the show had ended, confronted Jake and Elwood. "I need to discuss something of importance with you two about the act," he told them, "Alone."

"This way then," Jake led them into the nearest restroom. "You're going to have to dump the long-haired guy," Clarence told them

"Why?" Elwood asked.

"Well, quite frankly, he couldn't sing if his life depended on it," Clarence said, "He's a sore thumb in your group's fabric. You'd be much better without him."

"Well, I know he ain't up to yer standards, Clarence, but I did promise to bring him along for redemption," Elwood pointed out.

"Sorry Elwood, but my mind's made up," Clarence said firmly, "If you want me to tell him, it's OK with me."

"Sure," Elwood shrugged in resignation, "I think you'd better do the tellin'."

Clarence nodded and walked out. Elwood bowed his head. "You're guilty over it, aren't you?" Jake inquired, "Well, don't worry, you didn't make a mistake bringing him."

"But his heart's gonna get broke," Elwood told him, "He's always wanted to sing with us. How'dya think he'll take bein' told he's no good?"

The sound of something being slammed hard to the ground outside answered that question. Jake and Elwood stuck their heads out of the door to see Rocky hailing down another cab, his face contorted with a mixture of sadness and rage.

"Don't worry, Elwood," Jake reassured his brother, "I can guarantee you he'll be back, and he'll be able to provide us with an even more useful service than his voice."

About fifteen minutes later, the Brothers were sneaking inside a junkyard a few blocks away. "Remind me why we're doing this again?" Mack asked.

"I've been thinking that if we split up, we might make it harder for the cops and Satanists to pin us down," Jake explained, "I'm the type of person that likes to stay several steps ahead of the competition. And there's our diversion vehicle."

He pointed to an old broken down police car that had a strange similarity to the Bluesmobile. Jake waved his arms and the car was magically restored to new. "McTier, you, Chamberlain, and Danson take this one north and head out to L.A. on I-80 West," Jake told the three of them, "When you hit San Francisco, head south on I-5 and meet up with us in Sherman Oaks."

"Why Sherman Oaks?" Mack asked.

"Because we've got a big contact there that'll house us," Keith explained.

"The rest of us will go to L.A. over I-10," Jake went on. He handed Mack a large cross he'd produced from seemingly up his sleeve. "If you're attacked by any evil spirits, hold this up and have a load of faith," he explained, "It won't fail to get rid of them. When you need to contact us, set the radio to channel number 777. We'll leave our line open 24/7, since that's the way God does it with his."

"Whatever you say," Mack shrugged. He, Cabel, and Keith climbed into the car and started it up.

"See ya in L.A.," Elwood waved goodbye to his comrades as they pulled out into traffic. "Do ya really think it's a good idea to split us up, Jake?" he asked his brother, "I mean, they could strike them and we'd never know about it."

"Oh I'd know about it Elwood, trust me," Jake told him, "Let's get back to the Bluesmobile and hit the road; the cops'll be here soon, and I need to get started on putting the relic back together as soon as possible."

"Can't we help?" Buster asked.

"Sorry kid, but only us angels can reassemble relics," Jake said, "And since she literally shattered it into a million pieces, it's going to be really complicated."