I do not own Bon Jovi, The Beetles, or AC/DC. It would've been interesting if I did, though. :)
An unusual hush lay over Morgal Vale one Wednesday evening. (That is, a hush other then the death-like calm assumed by the valley and its occupants when foreigners were present. "It's all about public face and reputation," The Witch King had been heard to remark to a compatriot. "The press needs to think we're eerily silent and watchful twenty-four-seven."
"Then it's a good thing we don't have to live up to those reputations twenty-four-seven.")
"I don't like it, Khamûl, I just don't like it." The Chief remarked decidedly this particular day, pausing in his signing of sympathy cards for prisoners' families. Despite being said prisoners' cause of death, the Witch King was all politeness when it came to condolences. After all, it wasn't his fault the people of Gondor never knew for certain what had happened to King Eärnur; that darned orc messenger just had to go and drown in the river. Shame, he had sent such a nice card as befitting the death of royalty.
"Like what, sir?" His lieutenant asked respectfully, swallowing a yawn. Office work. Bleh. Nothing like licking stamps all day. (Mordor hadn't quite upgraded to the self-adhesive stamp yet)
"The silence! If it's not you wraiths wreaking havoc, it's the orc labor union badgering me for more benefits, or the goblins going on strike, or the fell beasts being fed porpoises and getting indigestion for a week."
"The event and smell will remain in my memory for some time." Khamûl muttered to himself, crinkling his invisible nose in remembrance.
"Something's happened or about to happen, or I'm an elf." The Boss insisted, nervously fiddling with the troll bobble-head on his desk that stood next to his autographed photo of Sauron. "Go find out what the rest of your brethren are doing, Khamûl," He instructed. "And if you find a reasonably competent orc, send him up, will you? These cards need to be sent."
"Will do, Boss."
On the other side of the Dead City, Ski, Kraak, and Gakh sat in the Nazgûl commons room. (Or as Udu preferred to call it, the 'uncommonly common for a commons room' room)
"Keep playing cards like that and you'll lose sooner then I thought you would, Gakh." Ski smirked as he transferred his opponent's cards into his own hand.
"It's not like I can pick what cards I get." Gakh defended peevishly, throwing another card on the well-worn table.
"But you can control how fast you are." Kraak interjected, putting down his own card as the addressed wraith grimaced.
SLAP!
"Pay attention, you two! I'm winning easily enough already." Ski scolded, scooping up the pile of cards he'd just slapped.
"Only because I'm letting you," Gakh retorted. "Ready to see some real card-slapping skills?"
"Hey guys, what's up?" Rut asked, preventing Gakh from living up to his boast as he meandered into the room.
"We're playing Rat Slap, what's it look like?" Kraak responded impatiently, keeping his eyes on the growing stack of cards.
"Oh, I used to play that, too! Let me go grab a nice, fat rat for you, always helped me with stress management, personally. Why, I remember one time…"
"If you can't tell, Rut, we're not slapping real rats." Ski pointed out with an eye roll. "It's a card game where you slap different card combinations."
"Oh."
SLAP!
"Told you." Gakh grinned triumphantly. "Stop moaning, Kraak, we can't even feel our hands half the time."
"That's no excuse for hitting me!"
"So, can I play?" Rut questioned interestedly, grabbing a chair and sitting down.
"Sure, just slap something when you see either doubles or a 'sandwich', like a 7, 9, and 7 together."
The game progressed a few more rounds in relative silence as the four wraiths intently watched card after card being placed on the now large pile when suddenly…
SMACK!
"THAT WAS MY FACE!" Ski yelped, cards flying everywhere as he clasped his aching nose.
"My apologies," Rut smirked in a very unapologetic (and un-Rut-like) tone. "You said to slap something, and your face happened to be handy. So don't ever even think about stealing my designer robes again." He finished ominously.
"I have to admit that I'm impressed." Gakh noted, Kraak nodding in agreement as Ski let out a low groan.
"Sounds like you two are even now." Kraak chuckled.
"Alright," Ski grumbled. "But try anything like that again, Rut, and I'll throw you into a pit of baby bunnies…and leave you there."
"Who's getting thrown into a pit?" Krith asked as he and Zag sauntered into the room, laden with snacks and junk food.
"No one, yet." Gakh snickered, swiping a bag of Cheesy Cockroach Curlz. "What've you been up to?"
"Raiding Witchy's secret food bunker, what else is new?" Zag answered, dumping the treats on the table, despite Ski's indignant protests.
"What the…Boss stress eats?" Rut questioned in disbelief as Kraak and Gakh both started to snigger at the hilarious idea.
"No wonder he's getting a little chubby," The former grinned. "Does he know you've taken his precious food yet?"
"No, but serves him right for being a greedy hoarder." Krith returned coolly as he seated himself. "And when he does find out, well, we'll cross that bridge later."
"Tell him you're helping him start a new diet." Ski suggested as they all broke into chuckles, snorts, and hiccups.
"Okay, what's this all about?" Khamûl demanded as he and Udu walked in.
"Must you scrutinize everything we do?" Kraak sighed in exasperation as he shuffled the cards with an expert hand.
"When the Boss asks me to, then yes, I do." Khamûl responded, cocking an eyebrow.
"They're playing some card sapping game." Krith said in answer to the lieutenant's question.
"Correction: we were playing before you interrupted us."
"Why don't we all play then?" This came from Zag, with a mouth full of BBQ Pig Snouts.
"What's that you've got there, Udu?" Gakh suddenly asked as he addressed the previously silent Nazgûl with surprise.
"Finally, I was waiting for you all to shut up." Udu grinned as he displayed a large brown box thing and several shiny black discs. "Turns out the Chief doesn't just hoard food, but music as well!"
"Witchy has…vinyls?" Kraak asked incredulously, staring at the records in disbelief.
"You bet your bootstraps he does."
"Our boots don't have straps."
"It'd be nice if they did, though. The blisters I get!"
"No way!" Krith chortled. "This is too good!"
"What's a vinyl?" Rut questioned, inspecting the discs curiously. Although Rut was technically considered Ringwraith #6 in regards to chain of command, he was in reality the youngest of the Nazgûl. While human, he'd been obliged to take his throne and crown at a tender age. (Long story, but it involved banana allergies, a blind great-aunt, and that stupid ambassador with the pet parrot)
"It's a special disc that plays music." Khamûl somewhat pompously explained, moving to help Udu set up the record player.
"I just had an awesome idea!" Zag proclaimed. "What if…we had a karaoke contest?"
"Yes!" Rut cheered enthusiastically while the others voiced their approval.
"A what?"
"Cool!"
"Why not?"
"Since we obviously won't be finishing this card game…"
"Okay, let's get this show on the road then," Gakh said, slipping a record into place as he motioned to Khamûl. "C'mon, Khamûl, let's hear those lovely vocal cords!"
"Aw, I'm not singing," The wraith protested, until the steady chanting "Khamûl, Khamûl, Khamûl" forced him to walk to the microphone. "Alright fine," He sighed, "But I won't know the lyrics…"
"That's why it's called karaoke." Kraak pointed out, settling back for the show.
"Just make some new words up!" Zag called encouragingly.
Gakh 'dropped the needle' and Khamûl, clearing his throat nosily, started to sing to the guitar music now wafting through the room.
"It's all the same, only the years will change," He warbled, improvising the lyrics as he went. "Everyday, we were really wasting away, before the time when our faces got so cold, I'd walk all night to never go back home."
The music picked up for the chorus as Khamûl, getting in his grove, started to sing a little more confidently while the others tapped their fingers against the table and shared amused smiles.
"I'm a Nazgûl, on a real smelly horse I ride, I'm wanted undead or undead!" He sang, swaying and smiling a little. "Sometimes I slept, but now it's been ages, and the people I met deserved to be in cages, sometimes you tell the age by the ring that you wear, and times when you're a wraith all you do is stare." Khamûl's voice cracked while attempting the low note, but he was now so wrapped up in the music he went on to the chorus again, belting out the words like a Rohan country singer.
"I'm a Nazgûl, on a real smelly horse I ride, I'm wanted (wanted) undead or undead! Wanted (waaanted) undead or undeeaad!" The record scraped to a halt as Khamûl gave a bow and blew kisses to his wildly cheering fans. (Or rather his politely applauding compatriots)
"Pretty decent, if I do say so, Khamûl." Ski commented. "I could've made an awesome music video to go with that song."
"My drumming skills would've made it even better." Krith insisted, pounding out a rhythm on the tabletop to demonstrate.
"Who's up next?" Udu asked, prepping the next record.
"Oooh, ooh! I'll go!" Rut exclaimed excitedly, waving his hand in the air like a several thousand-year-old child as he raced to the microphone. The music started to play and Rut began to sing in an admittedly very high-pitched voice.
"Yester-year," He crooned. (Or squeaked) "All my troubles were nothing to fear, now it looks like they're here for beer, oh I believe in yester-year."
Several surprised glances were passed at the new lyrics, but Rut continued undeterred to crank out his shrill voice. "Suddenly, I'm not the human I used to be, the shadow has taken over me, oooh yester-year came suddenly."
"These words make no sense." Kraak mumbled aside to Zag.
"Blame it on artistic license."
"…Being a wraith was such an easy game to play,"
"Tell that to my face." Khamûl snorted.
"…Now I need an evil city to hide away…"
"He sung it to your face, that's close enough, right?"
"Oooh I believe in yester-yeeaar!" The music stopped as Rut hopped down from the improvised stage with a grin.
"That was…nice." Gakh commented, rubbing his ears as with a wince.
"What do you guys want to sing to next?" Udu called, digging through the records.
However, before any could respond, who should walk into the room but the Chief!
The wraiths fell deathly silent as the Witch King surveyed the situation, taking in his precious vinyls scattered on the floor, the lone microphone and speaker, the cheese dust on Krith's face, (who attempted to surreptitiously wipe it off) and the guilty looks on all eight invisible faces.
"Karaoke?" The Captain said at last, sounding offended. "And you didn't invite ME?"
A pause.
"You…like karaoke…Sir?" Ski returned hesitantly as his mood was reflected throughout the room.
"Like it? I LOVE it!" The Boss cried fervently. "Granted, you stole my favorite records and ate all of my emergency-crisis food, but considering you actually had the sense to do karaoke…well, I'll overlook it for now." He finished magnanimously, grabbing the mic and slipping another record in the player. "So listen up and let a pro show you how it's done."
"You aren't kidding?"
"You're actually going to sing?" Rut and Zag exclaimed simultaneously as loud rock-and-roll started to play, drowning out their cries as the Witch King started to bob his head rather violently to the music.
"I'm like evil, I get under your skin," The Chief started in full-on perfect rock-voice, complete with scratchy voice and hair flip. (Or hood-flip in his case) "Just like a bomb that's ready to blow, cause I'm illegal, I got everything that all you wraiths might want to know, I'm gonna take you down,"
The Boss sang on, clearly in his totally unexpected element as the wraiths sat in shock, jaws gaping at the quality of their captain's voice.
"Yeah, down, down, down, so don't you fool around…"
Kraak and Udu started clapping to the beat at this point, causing the others to soon join in with vigor.
"I'm gonna pull it, pull it, pull the trigger,"
The Nazgûl were on their feet now, waving their hands in the air and jumping around, looking like a group of strange Goth people jamming to hard rock. (Which was pretty much the case)
"Shoot to thrill, play to kill, too many wraiths, too many pills, shoot to thrill play to kiiill!" The Chief screeched exuberantly as the disk stopped and the rest of the wraiths burst into cheers and applause.
"That was a-mazing!" Rut sobbed, wiping away the tears of joy streaming down his face.
"Good Gothmog, why didn't you let us start that band if you're so good yourself?" Khamûl demanded as he stalked up to the stage.
"Yeah, what's up with that?"
The Boss shrugged somewhat sheepishly. "Because you didn't ask me to be part of it." He admitted very uncharacteristically, rubbing the back of his neck in an embarrassed manner.
"Well, you're hired!" Gakh broke in, coming up and shaking his leader's hand vigorously.
"If you can get Sauron to let us tour Mordor, we'll let you sing lead vocals." Zag offered shrewdly. "What say you, Boss?"
"I'm in!" He agreed happily. "The Master will absolutely LOVE us!"
"Master?" The Chief asked, poking his head cautiously into the tower of Barad-Dur as the other eight wraiths craned their necks to see into the room.
"UP HERE!" Sauron's voice called as the slightly puzzled Nazgûl made their way to the roof on which now floated a giant, flaming eye in between the tower's twin lighting rods. (Electrical storms are actually quite a serious hazard in Mordor)
"There you are!" The Dark Lord beamed, his humongous eye gazing at each of them in turn as they stared in astonishment at the new incarnation of their master.
"Master, you look…different." The Boss stated rather obviously, causing Ski to suddenly break into a very suspicious fit of coughing.
"Do you like it?" Sauron asked proudly. "My new form shall be a symbol of terror throughout Middle-Earth after I destroy all those who stand in my path!"
"It's…nice." Kraak finally spoke up after a swift kick from the Chief indicated he was to respond.
"Yeah, it really brings out your roundness." Udu added as he and Krith shared a smirk.
"You don't think it makes me look fat, then? I knew I shouldn't have had that blueberry cheesecake last night…" Sauron questioned anxiously, his giant slit-pupil widening in alarm.
"Oh, no, my lord." The Witch King assured him. "You look positively horrifying. In fact, we came here to ask your permission for us to start our own rock band and tour Mordor."
"Rock band? Interesting." Sauron mused, gazing into the distance. "What would you each be doing exactly?"
"I'm on lead vocals."
"Bass player." Khamul chimed in.
"Backup vocals and guitar." Rut smiled.
"PR Department." Zag grinned.
"Drums!" Krith chortled gleefully.
"Song writer." Udu said self-importantly.
"I'm the band manager and Gakh and Ski are our tech crew." Kraak finished off as they waited impatiently for their overlord's decision.
"Well…I'm kinda busy trying to take over the world and all right now, and I need all of you giving a hundred percent to the war effort." Sauron muttered reflectively. "How about this: we win the war, and you guys can go on tour. I'll even fund your whole band and feed you cheesecake!"
The Nazgûl glanced disappointedly at each other. At the rate the war was currently going, it could be another age before they came out on top permanently. Not that they doubted their lord, no, but let's call it a decreasing of trust after numerous failures. However, it wouldn't do to tell Sauron that, so the wraiths mustered up what false gratitude they could.
"Thank you, Master, we won't fail you." The Chief promised as they left the tower top.
The trip back to Minas Morgul was silent and somewhat glum, until Gakh's frustrated question: "How are in Mordor we going to win the war relatively quickly?"
"I don't know…." The Boss sighed regretfully. "I was really looking forward to my own band."
"Maybe the One Ring will turn up." Rut suggested, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, right."
"Ple-eeze!"
"Like that would EVER happen!"
A/N: The One Ring turning up? Pfft, what a ridiculous idea!
What'd you guys think? The song parodies, if you couldn't tell, were Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi, Yesterday by the Beetles, and Shoot to Thrill by AC/DC, which I only chose because it was Tony Stark's entrance song in the Avengers, not because of any particular liking for the band and/or their songs. :3 Sorry any AC/DC fans.
So what would the wraiths band name be? Shoot me some ideas and I'll pick the one I like best to use in a chapter! I do plan on ending this at chapter nine, just so y'all know.
Thanks for the reviews, etc, etc. Love y'all!