* This is a fictionalized account of some shit that actually happened. All the names, locations, etc. have been changed to protect the innocent as well as the guilty. – JG *
INTERIOR – GRIFFIN’S GARAGE – DAY
Hoover, D-Man, Griffin and the Misery Kid are in the garage again, rocking as hard as they possibly can on a new song. They all play the same instruments as before, and Hoover’s microphone is still affixed to an old vacuum cleaner as a stand.
Useta wanna have a good job
Wear a big suit and a tie
But the Dow Jones went down and so did I
Useta wanna have a family
A smiling skull to press in a frame
But the station wagon exploded in flames
I! Want! This!
More than anything!
Then the Misery Kid leans into the mic and lets loose a huge, Black Francis-style scream, and the band slams the song home. Hoover looks askance at the other band members.
Yeah, it’s awesome.
It’s nothing without that scream, man.
You gotta leave the scream in.
Yeah, yeah, you can keep the scream.
The Misery Kid pumps his fist.
Yes! In your face, Damien!
What? I liked the scream.
Anyway, since I’ve now decided to stay in
this crappy band, I may as well tell you that
I signed us up for Fall-Fest.
Fall-Fest?! No way!
We’re not ready!
Hoover gestures to the vacuum cleaner.
We don’t even have a real mic stand!
They’ll give us a mic stand!
We don’t have enough songs!
Oh my god, you pussies. All we need is 3 songs.
3 songs. We’ve got 2 already! All McDangle here
(gestures to Hoover) needs to do is pump one
more out and we’re all set.
The other three look at each other warily. The Kid looks at them, waiting.
Hang on. We don’t even have a name for the
The Kid smiles.
Don’t sweat it. I had to give them a name when
I signed us up.
Hoover puts his head in his hands.
Oh god. What did you tell them?
The Kid steps back, grins and poses.
I am not gonna be in a band called “Big
Wow. That’s pretty bad, Kid.
No, no, no listen, dig this: we’ll be between
Big Black and Big Star in the record racks!
They all take a minute to let that sink in.
Okay. It’s okay for Fall-Fest but if we find a
better name we’re changing it immediately.
Whatever. (picks at his guitar for a minute)
So, anyway, we gotta write another song.
Hoover tilts his head.
We-ee-ll, I might have something.
Cool! Let us hear it!
It’s not done yet, but I can sing you the melody
and most of the words.
Go for it.
Hoover sighs and begins to click his sticks together.
1, 2, 3, 4!
CUT TO BLACK