Chapter 85 - Epilogue Volume I, Pt. I - Barry's Talent

Of course, that all happened many, many years ago. Right now, I'm feeling great! I'll go into more detail, but first, I want to give you all some insight about what has happened since then. Yes, me and good ol' Jelly are still together, of course. I still remember the day we first met like it was yesterday... However, this isn't about me and him. Not yet. First, let me tell you about what happened to Barry since that bill came out, since, after all, he was the first to grab our attention. Oh, Barry.. the adventures you've been through...

Firstly, after he left, he wandered around the city, eagerly looking for something to come to him. He felt that he was charming enough, so that others could discover him. As he walked down the street, some of the cars slowed down traffic, others looked at him with weird gazes in their eyes... he just couldn't find anybody like him. That is, until he walked by an alleyway next to a bar. He glanced down the dark corridor, dismissing it at first. Then, he realized that some people were there, and they weren't being paid any attention at all. He took a few steps backward, looking down the corridor yet again. He saw a group of 3 punks, who, at first, looked threatening. One of them noticed him, calling out, "Hey! Hold on a second, man!" Barry advanced towards them, curious as to what they were all about. "What do you guys want?", he asked. "Yo, can you sing really tight, man?", another one of them asked him. "Sing...? What's that?", Barry asked, as this wasn't a word in his vocabulary. Not yet, anyway. The punks looked at each other, getting up. One of them walked up to Barry, placing their hand on his shoulder. Barry flinched, because as much as he didn't like to admit it, but he was actually very threatened by their appearances. "Look, follow me, alright?", the punk told him, nodding towards his other buddies. They stood up, walking out of the alleyway.

They walked for a couple miles, talking about their lives. They explained the concept of music to Barry, and how they wanted to make music ever since their childhoods. One was a guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer. "You see, we need a good singer... None of us are really good at it. You sound perfect for us in my honest opinion..", one of them explained. "What is... a singer?", Barry asked, rubbing his chin. "You'll see soon enough, heheheh...", another of the punks told him, as they neared a garage. As they met the garage door, one of them looked up towards Barry, bending down, grabbing the small metal garage door handle. "Feast thine eyes, apprentice...", they told him, lifting up the garage door. The garage instantly lit up, as the lights turned themselves on. Inside, there weren't any cars, but instead, there were many different pieces of audio equipment, including a guitar, a bass guitar, a full drum kit, and, more importantly, a microphone. "Whoooaaaa...", Barry said in astonishment. "Pretty, isn't it?", one of the other punks asked him. "Now, let's see if you're our type of guy...", one of the other punks mumbled, running over to a laptop that was hooked up to several small speakers. "Wha-What do you mean by that?", Barry asked. "Look, everybody has different tastes of music, but we like Rock. Metal, Artistic, Punk, Smooth, you name it! And seeing that hoodie on you, makes you seem like a Metal type of guy", one of the punks explained, pointing at his hoodie. Barry looked down at his hoodie, which was grey. "I guess we won't really find out until we boot up the rock.", one of the other punks exclaimed, still fumbling with the computer. "Ah! Tool would be a near-perfect comparison as to what we need...", he shouted, smiling at the small screen.

"I... I can be pretty handy with tools!", Barry exclaimed, pointing at the various tuners hanging on the wall of the garage. The punks began laughing as hard as they could, refusing to believe Barry's innocent demeanor. "No, you idiot! The band is named Tool!", one of the punks yelled at Barry. "O-Oh... sorry...", Barry said to him, rubbing the back of his neck. Thoughts of his uncle Matiro and his dad flowed through his head. Do I really want to be with these guys?, he thought to himself. "Nah, it's all good, man!", the punk replied back. "I'm just joshing you, that's all." Barry breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he didn't have to worry about these guys being on his bad side. "Hey guys, should he listen to Ænima, Lateralus, or 10,000 Days first?", one of the punks asked the others. "Uhh... we'd better put him on Ænima.", another one of the punks replied. "Which song though?", the punk asked, looking at the small screen. "Hey, why don't we let him decide?", the other asked. Barry lifted his head, looking towards the one behind the laptop. "Yo, get over here, man! Pick a song to listen to!", the punk shouted at him. "Uhh... sure thing!", Barry replied, quickly running over, looking at the small screen. He saw a list of names, which seemed random to him. Stinkfist? H.? Third Eye? Pushit?, he thought to himself. What kind of names are these?! "Uh...", he eventually muttered, reading through. Eventually, one stuck out to him: Forty Six & 2. For some odd reason, he felt something come over him when he read the name. Almost as if it was his destiny...

"How about this one?", he asked, pointing to the name. "Oh, nice! Good pick, man!", the punk complimented him, laughing. "Yo, what'd he pick?", another one asked. "He picked Forty Six & 2!", he replied, wearing a smile on his face. "Daaaamn! That's a hell of a way to get into metal, that's for sure!", the other punk said in excitement, walking over to a small mini-fridge, grabbing two cans of Coca-Cola out of it, before walking over to Barry. "Yo, you thirsty?", he asked, offering one of them to Barry. "Yeah, I am, actually! Thanks!", Barry replied, taking the Coca-Cola can. As he opened it, the punk at the computer reached into his pocket, pulling out a pair of earbuds. He unplugged the large speakers from the computer, before plugging in the earbuds. "Alright man, you ready?", the punk asked, handing Barry the earbuds. "Well, I guess so!", Barry replied, grabbing the earbuds. "Hey, wait a minute...", the other punk said. "How is he gonna use those things with those gigantic ears of his?!", he remarked, pointing at Barry's gigantic ears. "Are you retarded or something!?", he yelled at the other punk. "Jesus Christ! Sorry that I'm actually trying to do something to help him out! Sorry things didn't turn out the exact way you wanted them to!", the punk yelled back at the other, plugging in the speakers yet again. As the plug was inserted into the proper hole, a loud THUMP came from the speakers, causing Barry to flinch, spilling some of his Coca-Cola. "Yo, turn that down too!", the punk yelled at the one behind the computer. "Yeah, yeah, yeah...", the other replied, lowering the volume. He looked back up at Barry, asking, "Alright, now are you ready?" Barry turned himself towards the speakers, bracing himself for whatever happened next. "Hit it.", he replied.

The man behind the computer pressed the play button, beginning the song. Barry tried to take a sip, but he stopped when he heard the music wash over his ears. It was one of the greatest feelings of his life. He felt lost within the soothing sounds of it all. The bass, the vocals, the drums, the guitar... It was all perfect. He struggled to think of anything else while this groove passed around him. "Heheh, I see you're a big fan of Maynard James Keenan, then...", the punk laughed, with the laptop still in his lap. Barry stood there, holding an open can of Coca-Cola, completely still, bobbing his head to the groove. "This... this is good!", Barry said, beginning to wear a smile. "Haahhah, awesome!", the other punk laughed, "Tool's our favorite band as well. Say, do you think you can sing like this?" Barry looked down at the ground, with a look of deep concentration as he focused on the voice. It seemed doable for him to emulate the tones, but he couldn't possibly be too sure about this, because he had never done anything like this in his life. He looked back up at the punk, replying, "I... I'll try, I guess..." The punk pointed towards a microphone on a stand, telling Barry, "Well, the microphone's over there, so go ahead and give it your best shot, why don't ya?" Barry took a long sip of his drink, before walking over to the microphone. "Hey, wait a second! You gotta know the lyrics!", the punk with the laptop said, quickly reaching down to a pile of notebooks that were stacked along his desk. As the punk flipped through them, Barry asked, "Lyrics...?"

"Ah! Here we go! Forty Six & 2 lyrics coming up!", the punk said, handing Barry a piece of paper with the lyrics written on them. "Ooh! They're the words the singer is saying! Gotcha...", Barry exclaimed with a hint of excitement. "Yeah... I'll restart the track, and this system allows me to turn off the vocals. Turning up the microphone now...", the computer punk said. "This had better be good...", another punk added, watching Barry. "Well, here goes...", the computer punk said, pushing the "play" button. Barry cleared his thoat, waiting for the vocal cue to start. When it did, he just stared at the sheet, emulating the voice he had heard on the song before, not really paying attention to his surroundings. All he needed to do was focus on the music itself, at a core level. At first, he accidentally clipped the microphone, but he learned to move away from the microphone a little bit, to stop that from happening. He even readjusted himself for the shouting parts of it. This seemed really easy to him. Maybe a bit... too easy. When the music ended, and the paper ran out of lyrics on it, he looked up at the other members of the band, to find their jaws locked wide open, almost as if they had just seen the most intense moments of their lives.

"That... was... TOTALLY WICKED!", the punk behind the computer screamed in joy, throwing his hands into the air. They finally found the perfect piece to their seemingly unsolvable puzzle.