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Post by theantigorillaz on Sept 29, 2007 8:10:04 GMT -5
~Steel Pot wandered into the souless venue, feeling slightly depressed; but only because his opposite was having a good time. Most of his extreme adventures lately were staring at the ceiling and lying on his bed.
He gazed at the torn posters covering the walls, each with a crapply-draw picture and a band name which seemed to have been thought up by a toddler with verbal diarrhea.
Being the only person there, tore off the nearest poster and chucked it in a trash can, then slumping down on one of the chairs. It was unbelievable that so many people thought that they had talent, then made a cock out of themselves on stage, discovering that if they wanted to be better, they had to buy instruments instead of making them out of elastic bands and cardboard boxes.
Steel began to hear footsteps walking through the door, but didn't move from his spot. He was to downhearted to be bothered about anything right now.~
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Post by Murduck on Sept 29, 2007 8:19:45 GMT -5
This place takes me back.
~ Muttered Murdoc of whom was standing next to Steel, staring bluntly at the cruddy, rubbish posters that were slapped on the gritty, almost crumbling wall. His hands were thrust right down the mouth of his trouser pockets, lowering his tinted shades to have a better look at the posters. ~
Did you have a gig here?
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Post by theantigorillaz on Sept 29, 2007 8:39:05 GMT -5
It was schedueled. But we were cancelled at the last minute by a band called 'Toxic Waste', which just turned out to be a couple of turds with a harmonicas and tamborines.
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Post by Murduck on Sept 29, 2007 8:42:31 GMT -5
Class act. They'd blend in perfectly with the lot, here. Honestly. No hopers. They're destined to play the Chicken Dance tune at weddings from the sounds of it.
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Post by theantigorillaz on Sept 29, 2007 8:45:03 GMT -5
*smirks*
I don't understand how people can like that sort of music...
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Post by Murduck on Sept 29, 2007 8:49:36 GMT -5
*Shrugs*
Apparently, there's a breed of "people" out there who enjoy the Chicken Dance. Need to have someone to provide them with that one pleasure in their otherwise meaningless reason of existence.
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Post by theantigorillaz on Sept 29, 2007 8:53:26 GMT -5
Yeah...
*stands up, walks onto stage*
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Post by Murduck on Sept 29, 2007 8:56:01 GMT -5
*Kicks the chair forward and seats myself, pulling out a packet of ciggies*
Oi, mind having a private gig for me? I'm just itching to hear you play
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Post by theantigorillaz on Sept 29, 2007 9:03:52 GMT -5
*smiles* Okay...I'll see what I can do...
*looks left, then right, starts to walk in*
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Post by Murduck on Sept 29, 2007 9:06:45 GMT -5
*Lights up my ciggy, stuffing the lighter down my trouser pocket, taking a drag*
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Post by theantigorillaz on Sept 29, 2007 9:20:59 GMT -5
*walks over to the stage, grabs an old bass guitar, plays melody to REM's Imitation Of Life out of boredom*
*simply stares at Alter Murdoc*
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Post by Murduck on Sept 29, 2007 9:22:35 GMT -5
*Lowers sunglasses, narrowing my eyelids at him*
For the love of Satan..
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Post by theantigorillaz on Sept 29, 2007 9:27:22 GMT -5
*grabs bass off alter Murdoc, smacks it round his head*
Jesus, you're no better than the scum that usually play here!
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Post by Murduck on Sept 29, 2007 9:30:07 GMT -5
Oohh now we're getting somewhere...
*groans, getting up*
Look if you lot aren't playing anything I might as well sod off.
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Post by theantigorillaz on Sept 29, 2007 10:01:21 GMT -5
*rubs head* Who's stopping you? The environment is so uncanny.
*scowls at alter Murdoc* Nobody asked you, sunshine.*picks up bass, plays awesome guitar riff which could burn down Pompeii*
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