A/N: Bold is singing
This is based off of Psych the musical, so, you guys should probably watch it to get it.
"Hair?" Zelda rounded on Ducky. "You're worried about his hair?"
Ducky opened her mouth to reply, but Alfred beat her too it. "I think she cut his hair with her scissors a couple months before school started."
Link made an 'Oh, yeah, I remember that' face while Ghirahim silently bristled behind them. His hair was back to his normal style now, with the white strands falling over his face, but the memory of it still obviously haunted him.
Fi ignored Zelda's and Ducky's bickering, and then turned toward Ghirahim. "What are you doing here?" She asked. "I thought you moved."
"I did, but I decided to come back." He replied, shrugging. "What about you? I know for a fact you moved to a different country."
Fi froze at his words. "It's-It's a long story."
"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" Alfred stepped in between the two, her arms held out. "You two know each other!?"
Both teen's nodded. However, before another word could be said, the one minute warning bell rang, and the six of them scrambled into the class.
They clustered together around one of the round tables in the back just as the final bell rang. In this precise order, I might add.
Link next to Zelda, Alfred next to Link, Ducky next to Alfred, Fi next to Ducky and Ghirahim next to Fi.
oOo
Link groaned as he did a very graceful face plant onto his bed.
He had only just gotten Little Zelda, Zelda, Ducky, Alfred, Fi and Ghirahim to leave his dorm, after a really…weird practice for the talent show, and now it was rounding on midnight.
Link didn't bother to take of his clothes, didn't bother to get under the blanket, hell, he didn't even bother to move. So, he lay there, face first on the bed, and fell asleep.
oOo
Once, upon a time…the end.
Wait, what the hell is that? These pages are too sticky. A woman with incredible skill faced her most difficult challenge, ah, unbelievable! I ripped the page!
Gah, OK, across a vast and dangerous land she…she..I-I need to fix this; this is going to drive me nuts.
OK, all taped up, here we go. She would bring old friends and foes together, to calm a great evil. And though she holds a great secret, unknown to all but a few…the end.
Ah, I give up. Let's just say, it was an adventure, like no other.
Alfred hummed quietly to herself as she ran the broom along the floors. She then quickly looked up, a smile spread across her lips as she began to sing.
"There's a town on the coast on the path of father Sarah," She then gazed out the window, swinging the broom in her hand."Wealthy white guys in boats called the "U.S. Riviera," Alfred then threw the broom onto the floor with a clatter, then began to take of the apron she was wearing while cleaning.
"With a Dark, dirty secret that's soon to be unfurled," She then ran to the door, dropping the apron in her wake. She then ran outside, and then spun on her heel; singing joyfully with her hand's thrown up. "It's the murder capital of the world!"
"Wait, what?" Ducky walked up to the teen, a very confused look on her face.
"You know." Alfred said, beginning to walk down the paved sidewalk. "Lots of killing, nobody knows."
"You're talking about here?" Ducky asked, pointing to the very ground the two were walking on.
Alfred grinned at her. "Yes."
"Um, no." Ducky shot back, giving Alfred her 'what-the-fuck?' look. Alfred just looked at her, confused.
"Ducky, come on, take a look around." Alfred waved her hand behind her, and Ducky stopped in her path. "Its Skyloft man, home of Vatti the killer."
"That was one serial killer, years ago." Ducky shot back, starting up her walk again.
"Let me ask you something." Alfred shot a glare at the shorter blond. "Why are you raining on my parade?" Ducky rolled her eyes, and then walked away. Alfred blinked, and then called after her. "Don't you have to be at work?"
"And this town needs a girl who can stop this reign of terror catching bad guys like flies." Alfred accepted the pineapple a street vender handed her, then threw it to Ducky, who caught it.
"When she's given room for error." She sang, twirling the pineapple around in her hands.
"A girl who sees clues almost if they were alighting," Alfred then looked back over at the street vender, who was shoving dollar bills from the cash register into his pocket. She shook her head, shamming the man. "Get's accused to confess cause her hair is so exciting." She closed her eyes for a moment, and then looked back at the street vender, who ruefully put the money back. "And though her attire's informal her skills are paranormal!" She did a series of strange steps up onto boxes filled with fruit. "La la la la la Hoodilly-hoo Hoodilly-hoo,"
Ducky ran up and pulled the taller teen off the box of fruit, and Alfred made a strange scream as Ducky pulled her back onto the sidewalk.
"Seriously, you're talking about you?" She asked.
"Yes." Alfred replied. "Yes I am. Is there a problem with that?" She then asked, turning to Ducky.
"Um, where do I start?" Ducky said sarcastically, snapping her head tword's Alfred. "First of all, you're not a psychic-"
"Shhh!" Alfred pressed her finger to her lips.
"Who could be listing, the dancing guy?" Ducky asked, turning around to briefly glance at the dancing guy. Alfred raised an eyebrow at him, and then turned back to Ducky.
"Ducky, don't be that guy," She said. "We need to be a tad more cautious with our little secret. Other cops cannot-"
"You're living a lie, and the last time I checked, you're not a cop." Ducky said, counting off on her fingers.
"Alright." Alfred sighed. "You know what? Fine." She then turned to a conveniently placed cop.
"A cop I am not I'm just good at observations," She shook his hand, and then proceed to her walk. "But with short cuts."
"And cons." Ducky jumped back up to her.
"And the proper presentation, they believe that I can raise a finger to my head, see the past, read a mind, and can mingle with the dead. And sure everyone is deceived, but that web's already weaved." Alfred had stopped at his point, and was now looking confused. "Woven? Weevied?"
Ducky rolled her eyes, and then they both sang. "Wove!"
Alfred then started moving again, this time with a dance mob behind her and Ducky at her side. "The key is that I'm in too deep to turn back now so I tell these lies," She then stopped, and pointed up to the sky. "Under Skyloft skies."
Alfred then ran to a nearby park, and kicking a cooler out of the way, began to sing again. "The truth is a slippery slope to tread when you're over your head," She flinched as she ran into some one, but kept singing none the less. "I do what I have to for the common good. I'm misunderstood,"
Ducky's eyes widened as the man that Alfred ran into pulled a knife out at her, but Alfred kept singing. "And I'd come clean, if I only could. Yeah, but I can't."
"You mean you won't." Ducky sang, dodging the knife.
"It's the same."
"Not even close.
"Just don't ask."
"I didn't ask."
"It was implied."
"Define 'implied'." Ducky sang back, letting the knife wielder get away. "You don't know."
"Yes I know," Alfred said, turning her head back. "And I really don't care!"
The two then took off running out of the park, and Ducky started singing. "Someone's bound to expose, funny business we're conducted-"
"Lighten up, were all good." Alfred sang. Ducky turned around, a stern look on her face.
"Would you please stop interrupting? All I know is just me always cleaning up your mess while your hair gets the credit getting people to confess."
Alfred started fiddling with her hands. "That's why I moisturize under Skyloft skies."
"The truth of the matter is that it's all good fun till an eye comes out, I do what I have to for my own safety and legality cause technically it's a felony." Ducky bounced off the stairs she had climbed, and Alfred threw her hand's up.
"It's just a fib."
"It's a crime."
"They won't care."
"Yes, they'll mind, and we'll probably do time." Alfred then pointed ahead of her, taking off at a brisk walk.
"Over there is Gaepora, here to offer his assistance." The two of them stopped at the pier, when Gaepora was climbing up the stairs, fishing pole in hand. He stopped and stared at the two smiling teens and their dance mob behind them.
"Yeah, not happening." He said, walking away.
"With occasional resistance." Ducky started singing again, and the two began to walk again, and Alfred took the stage,
"So we face it alone all this dark and dirty screaming, hope it's not like the time when my partner went off screaming." She then turned to look at Ducky, who frowned.
"When I fought."
"No, you hid."
"No, I didn't.
"Yes, you did."
Ducky then took off running up another flight of stairs, with Alfred following. "I'm just trying not to be the one who died!"
"Under Skyloft," Alfred then looked at Ducky, and the two sang together. "Skies! Skyloft!"
"Skyloft!" Alfred sang on her own.
"She's our loft."
"Good old loft."
The two then sang together, making overly excited hand gestures "Skyloft skies!" The two then finished, and Alfred turned to Ducky.
"I'm telling you Ducky." She said. "Someone's gotta be on look out for the blood bath that's going to overtake our sleepy little community."
"Alfred, will you stop it?" Ducky asked, placing her hand on her hips. "Nothing terrible is gonna happen to this happy little place." Alfred shook her head, but followed Ducky none the less.
Somewhere, at Skyloft psychiatric Hospital…
"Security control, is everything clear on your account?" A female voice rang over a walky talkie system.
"Everything is clear in room 71." A male voice replied. One of the security guards, who were in the control room, glanced over at the monitor displaying room 71. Finding nothing, he glanced around at the others.
He blinked as a gust of wind flew past him. He quickly looked over his shoulder, then finding nothing, went back to the monitor. However, as soon as he did, he was shoved to the floor, and then dragged under the monitor system. Leaving him knocked out, a man, in his mid twenties, grabbed one of his coats, and quickly left the building.
At Skyloft police station
"My heart's a ste-"
"Link! No singing!" Link was cut off sharply from his song as Ghirahim walked in, a foul mood about the detective.
"Sorry Detective." Link said quickly, turning around in his chair.
"I need you to pull up a profile for Zant!" Ghirahim walked swiftly over to the corkboard, where he pinned up a picture of a man in his mid twenties. "He also goes by his non de plume, Z."
"I'm sorry, what?" Link asked, following the grouchy detective.
"His non de plume." Ghirahim repeated. "His pen name? The name he uses-never mind." He cut himself off as Link's confused expression. "He was a play writer and composer, working excessively for 7 years on a Jack the Ripper musical. Night before reviews, he goes crazy, locks the critic in a room and burns the place down. That was back in '05. Last night, he escaped from the insane asylum. We gotta catch this nut job, and fast." Ghirahim then walked away.
Link started at him, then getting nothing that he said, softly began to sing again. "My heart-"
"No singing!" Ghirahim shouted.
"Sorry." Link called, then figuring he should start to try to figure out why Ghirahim wanted a profile, went back to his desk.
The man already knew everything about him.
Somewhere, at a nearby park.
Zant stared at the elderly man in front of him, who was sitting on a bench, throwing nuts on the ground for the animals.
Then man then looked up. "Troubled?" he asked.
"Does it show?" Zant asked.
"Oh, a bit." The man replied waving his hand. "Care to share? I'm a good listener, and I don't get much human contact."
"Its-It's a long story." Zant replied awkwardly.
The man shrugged. "Do I look rushed? Looks like my squirrel friends have all abandoned me." Zant, with nothing else to do, walked over to the bench, when the man moved his thing's aside for the younger of the two to sit. Zant duly noted the man's car keys.
"I'm a writer." Zant started off. "And the last project…didn't work…out."
The man nodded, and then asked, "Ah, book's? Movies?"
"Ever hear of the Skyloft play house?" Zant asked.
"I, can't say I get out to the theater much." The man replied.
Zant raised his eye brows. "Then let me start at the beginning then."
"Okay."
"It was called Ripper." Zant continued. "Old London, dark, very cool! Or so I thought. And after 7 years, and change after endless change…I thought we had something…"
"In the dark of the shade, you should all be afraid, they will call me Ripper!"
"Ok, that was nice Chris," a man, presumably the director, walked up to the actor. "But what if Midna comes in a bit earlier?"
A young actress walked forward. "Like this?" She asked.
"Yeah." The director replied. "OK?"
Zant then walked up to him, script in hand. "I can fix it." He said quickly.
"We are fixing it, bit by bit." The director replied, and then asked quietly, "Have you slept at all?"
Zant shook his head. "There's no time for sleep!" He said quickly, the pointed to his script. "Look, I have revisions for you."
"Look, we'll get there during previews, I promise." The director replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
Zant went to say something, but he was cut off. "Hold on one second." The director then walked up to another man on the stage. "What's up?"
"Who let Andrew Shack in?" he asked.
"Nobody." The director replied. "We wouldn't let a critic in during previews, especially Shack." Zant heard this, then turned his head sharply, panic starting to claw its way through.
"He watched the entire run through yesterday, and is writing a piece off of that." The man replied.
"Off of a run through?" the director sounded shocked. "He can't!"
"He did." The man then shook his head. "We're done."
"We're done?" Zant asked his voice barely above a whisper.
"No." The director then turned around to face Zant, then went back to the man he was originally talking too. "Can we talk?" He asked, and then left the stage.
"So-so this Shack is an important person?" The elderly man asked.
"Very powerful," Zant replied. "But not very kind, to any of us…ever. He shouldn't have been there."
"Midna, it's over." Zant walked up to the young girl, who looked shocked at the news.
"Over?" She asked, and Zant nodded. "No, Z, you're getting paranoid."
"No, I'm not." Zant replied, then looking over his shoulder, spotted Shack. "Oh my Goddess…he's here…"
"…Who?" Midna asked quietly.
"Shack." Zant replied. "He's trying to kill us."
"K-Kill the show?" Midna asked, uncertain. Zant looked back at her.
"There's too much at stake." He said, crossing his arms.
"Try to sleep." Midna said. Her name was called in a sharp whisper, and she ran to the stage. Zant watched her go, then started tword's the dressing room he had seen Shack go in.
"Something's wrong. Beneath the artifice I feel the ground becoming liquid, something's wrong." Zant started walking again. "The elements conspire to see that I become the victim, something's wrong." He then stopped to look out onto the stage.
"In this residuum the death of optimism's lurking something's wrong." He then started tword's the dressing room again. "Give me the clarity to stop conspiracies from working." He finally stopped at the door.
He tried to open it, but to his dismay, found it was locked. "You can't be here you can't do this!" Zant then started banging on the door, finally getting it open, rushed inside.
"That-that didn't really happen, right?" The elderly man asked, but even he couldn't keep the fear out of his voice.
"It did." Zant replied, sounding disappointed.
The man sounded shocked when he replied. "Those people died?"
"One." Zant replied.
"Why-why would you tell me? A random stranger?" The man asked again, truly sounding shocked.
"But you're not random." Zant replied. "You're like me. You don't have any friends. You're invisible…you'll listen."
"H-How do you know this?" the man asked, his own fear growing.
"Because I've watched you every day from my window across the street." Zant replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The man then looked across the street, his eyes widening. "Isn't-Isn't that an institution?"
"Not a very good one." Zant replied. "They don't listen."
"But this is a murder confession!" The elderly man replied. "You'll go to jail!"
"They don't always send murders to jail." Zant shot back.
"There's no reason to tell me!"
"There is!" Zant said. "Because then you'll understand what I'm about to do to you."
Back at Skyloft psychiatric Hospital
Alfred stared at the park across the street as the director of the hospital, Fi and Ghirahim walked out of the building.
"We lost Zant about 30 feet from the gates, so he could have gone anyway on the street." The director said quietly.
"Well if it's anybody's guess, mine, he went to the left doctor." Ghirahim pointed in the general direction, while the director looked at him.
"It's chief, doctor detective." He said.
"It's detective, chief doctor." Ghirahim shot back.
"Why do you say left?" Fi asked, trying to break up the conservation.
"Because the bus station is directly down this road." Ghirahim replied. "He would look sane, compared to the other slobbering genetic do over's populating the genetic turmoil."
"I'm sorry but did you say-"
"Slobbering genetic do over's?" Ghirahim asked, cutting the man off. "Yes I did. But I'm not talking about your wack a doodles, I'm sure there all lovely."
"There not-"
"We know!" Fi said quickly. "Look, Detective Ghirahim can be a little in-sensitive, and also, he's wrong."
Alfred perked up at Fi's words. "I think that the parking lot camera's picked up Z, so I believe he went right."
Alfred turned around sharply. "The spirits are telling me he went directly across the street and into the park…into…the woods."
"Spirits…are telling her?" The director asked quietly.
"She's a psychic." Fi replied, crossing her arms.
The director looked shocked. "…and who believes this?"
"Most of us."
"No me." Ghirahim said quickly.
"Doctor," Alfred spoke. "You too will soon believe." She then spun back around, and started to sing quickly. "Hello, my name is Alfred, this is my partner, Lil Wayne,"
Ducky let out a little wave as Alfred pointed to her. "The evidence is underwhelming, but my intuition is insane!"
Ghirahim then started down the stairs. "A trained observer misses nothing, each imperfection is a trail. It's not a question of 'if' or where', but when the guilty party goes to jail." He then looked at Ducky. "Come with me."
Alfred then turned to face Ghirahim. "The park."
"The bus." Ghirahim and Alfred started to circle each other.
"The park!"
"The bus!"
Alfred then wrapped an arm around Ducky's shoulders, pulling her away from Ghirahim. "The spirits are sticklers, just check with Ducky." She then threw the shorter blond back at the stairs.
"There's no way I'm wrong about his." Ghirahim said sharply, following Alfred's hand moments.
"I've heard it both ways," Alfred sang, walking down the stairs. "The right way and then yours, I've heard it both ways!" She then peered around the sign to the hospital, where Ghirahim was doing the same on the either side, then ran tword's the center, Ghirahim following. "Let's not open any sores, I've heard it right and wrong, don't 'cheech' my 'chong' anymore!" She then quickly snagged Ghirahim phone.
"Alfred, give me back my phone." Ghirahim demanded, holding out his hand.
"Spiritual GPS can't help it." Alfred replied, holding the mobile device out in front of her.
"Alfred, give me my phone!" Ghirahim then lunged, and Alfred sidestepped the white haired detective.
"Is she seeing anyone about this psychic thing?" the director asked quickly, watching Alfred and Ghirahim scuffle.
"Yes, she was seeing someone across town." Ducky replied. "It was for a case."
"She loved it." Fi replied, glancing at the director, who raised an eyebrow.
"It's true! I can't deny it!" Alfred shouted, holding Ghirahims phone out of his reach. "It was quite a treat! Let me show you!" She then took off running. "To the park!"
She then jumped over a few tree roots. "The feat's already set in motion; I feel the crime scene, come alive." She threw Ghriahim's phone into her other hand as he tried to grab it. "Drop all your preconceived emotion, and notions, and lesion Nova Scotian and feel the criminal deny." She then jumped onto a park bench, riding it as it fell over. She then skipped over to another bench, phone held out, where peanut shells were scattered about.
"And that," She said proudly. "Is how I do it."
"Congratulation Alfred." Ghirahim said, stepping tword's the teen as she began to hack the detective's phone. "You just solved the great peanut caper of 09. As we all suspected, it was the chipmunk." He said, snatching the phone out of Alfred's hands.
"You, are embarrassing us." Ducky said, giving Alfred that look.
"Ducky," Alfred said, turning towards her partner. "Don't be the model of a modern day general."
Ducky looked at Alfred, confused. "Look at those shells. There cracked by tiny, cute, rabies infested, plague spreading, rodent teeth. Now look over there," She said, pointing to the other side of the bench. "Those shells are smashed, violently. Almost as if," She then turned and sat on the bench.
"Our victim's here and feeding vermin, your patient drifts into view," she pointed at the director, and then gestured in the opposite direction. "He scoots aside, but still uncertain, what this dark stranger's gonna do!"
Ghirahim stepped forward, circling the bench. "You get all this from broken peanuts?"
"Perhaps we're drifting off the track." Fi sang, following Ghirahim path.
Alfred jumped off the bench, turning tword's Ghirahim. "This is a psychic demonstration, I'm making."
"They lost a mental patient!" Fi sang, sounding quite annoyed.
"I'm not sure which of them is cracked." Ghirahim shot back.
"The nuts?" Fi sang, confused.
Ghirahim however, rounded on Alfred. "You're cracked!"
"You're nuts!" she shot back. She then took Ghirahim's hand, and started a strange version of the tango down to the creek.
They both then started singing. "I've heard it both ways! The right way and then yours, I've heard it both ways! Let's not open any sores I've heard it right and wrong, don't dipht, my thong, anymore! No anymore! No anymore!"
Alfred then broke off. "No any-ew…" she pointed to the creek, where articles of clothing littered the bank. "This guy didn't just want to escape, I mean this is…"
"The beginning of a rampage." Fi finished for her.
"Fi you pull every contact this crazy had and dig deep. He hasn't spoken to anyone in seven years." Ghirahim said quickly.
"Actually, detective," The director spoke up. "He started speaking." Ghirahim slowly turned towards the elder man. "…recently…it's complicated." He added on.
"And what? You pinky swore you wouldn't tell anybody!?" Ghirahim shouted.
"It was a doctor patient matter!" The director said quickly. "Although…this changes things…"
"I'm sorry, you said it was complicated?" Fi spoke up, shaking her head slightly.
"He sees another patient." The director mumbled.
Alfred looked thoughtful, while Ghirahim had to bite his lip to keep from blowing up. "Take me to this patient, now."
oOo
Alfred and Ducky grinned as they looked at each other, Fi looking mildly amused, and Ghirahim looking ready to explode.
Vatti grinned as he started to sing. "They'll be sleigh bells and songs, and homemade pipe bombs!" He then frowned, and turned towards the karaoke machine. "Paul, watch the changes!"
He then looked back, and waved at Alfred. "Hi Alfred."
Alfred smiled at him, while Ducky asked quietly, "Is Paul his name for the karaoke machine?"
"No," The director replied. "It's his name for his imaginary piano player, Paul Hogan."
"The Crocodile Dundee guy?" Ducky asked as the director nodded.
One of the other patients turned around. "Shh! Pipe down hell girl!"
"What?" Ducky almost screeched.
"It's a very special day!" Vatti continued. "An afternoon of music, and stories. And Alfred, I say this from my heart," Vatti looked directly at Alfred as he spoke. "When I tell you I'm so glad I didn't detonate your Mama Bear."
Alfred pounded a fist to her chest; still smiling at the purple haired man, then gave him the peace sign. Ducky looked at Alfred, confused.
"And thank you Paul!" Vatti said, waving his arms at the karaoke machine. "And…in the magic of the season, I wish I could not blow her up all over again!"
Ghirahim leaned towards Fi. "Does he know what month this is?" He whispered, still staring at the serial killer.
"I'm not sure." Fi whispered back.
"And Ducky!" Vatti spoke up again. She pointed at the teen, and then said happily. "Please take a bow!" Ducky complied, and then snapped back up as the same patient spoke to her again.
"Sit down Avon girl!"
"I have a part time job as a pharmaceutical saleswoman!" She snapped back. "I do not sell facial cream; I sell the drugs that help keep people like you from seeing dragons at night!"
"Shouldn't we…" Fi spoke up, pausing as she tried to find the right words. "…do this is private?"
…
….
…..
"Z's escape was great, right?" Vatti walked around the office happily. "Is their video? Can we watch?" he then asked.
"Vatti, we have to hurry." Alfred spoke, ignoring his question. "Z is extraordinarily smart, and determined."
"He's also very talented." Vatti replied, walking over to a desk by the window. He then picked up a paper weight. "He has the soul of a monkey…which is why I love him." He then placed the paper weight in his pocket.
"That's crazy!" Alfred replied. "Sometimes, I feel like I have a monkey inside of me."
Ducky looked up at her.
"I say that because his nails are imactu-ow!" She screeched as Ducky elbowed her in the gut. Fi shot them a confused look, and then Alfred asked. "Do you know what Z's plan is?"
"I do." Vatti replied, grinning. "Every step."
"Great, so tell us where he's going." Ghirahim said quickly, rocking back and forth on his heel's slightly.
"Nope!" Vatti sang. "Can't do that!"
"That's why we're here." Ducky said slowly.
"You didn't come for my show?" Vatti asked, sounding hurt.
"Both!" Alfred quickly spoke up. Then she said much slower and quieter, "We came for both."
"You don't have to lie to me Alfred." Vatti still sounded hurt, but he walked over to another desk, and picked up another paper weight. "I can see right through you."
The director looked at Vatti, and he slammed the paper weight back down on the desk.
"Just tell us where his next victim is." Ghirahim said, his patience starting to wear thin.
"Victim or victims?" Vatti asked, sounding way too happy as he replied.
"There's or than one?" Fi asked.
"Maybe." Vatti replied, grinning. "But, a guy needs a date before he offers his bounty."
Alfred went and pointed at Ducky, but Ghirahim beat her to it. "Fine, what do you want? Cigarettes? A free night out of the box?"
"What kind of institution do you think we run?" The director asked, sounding mildly shocked. Ghirahim just rolled his eyes.
"I've," Vatti said loudly. "Come to love the theater and this-I'm not going to have a card to play like this again." He said, frowning.
"No." Ghirahim quickly said, shaking his head. "No, we can't get you out of here."
"Oh, I just bet you can." Vatti replied, his frown turning into a grin.
"No, now Vatti-"
"Suck it!" Vatti said sharply to the director, and then went back to smiling at Ghirahim.
A/N:
Here are the song's if you want to listen to them
'Under Santa Barbra Skies'
'Z's lament'
'I've heard it both ways'