Everybody Hurts

"I prefer the term liege." Fred responds (in between sobs).

"My liege," the serf (or is it vassal?) recommences, "there is a band of itinerant minstrels at the gates who who would play to you and ease your unbalanced humours."

Fred takes advantage of the lull in verbal abuse caused by this news. He stands up straight, pulls a handkerchief from a pocket in his codpiece, and gives his nose a good blow. "Why, show our guests in." he states regally (or at least nobly. I s'pose "regally" would be if he was a King or something).

The doors are opened and in troupe three individuals dressed in the least strange clothing Fred has ever seen. They carry unusual stringed instruments and promptly sit themselves down on some conveniently-placed high chairs. One of them mutters in a language Fred does not recognise; he does however discern the word "unplugged". The troupe begin to play, and one (who wears a hat and appears to suffer from some form of palsy) begins to sing:

"When the day is long . . . and the night . . .
And the night is yours alone . . ."

Just then the "beautiful moment" is shattered by . . .

1. the entrance of Bill Berry. "Hey, that's my song!" he yells.
2. the entrance of James "LCD Soundsystem" Murphy. "Daft Punk are playing at my house" he announces.
3. Fred snatching Peter Buck's guitar and smashing it over Mike Mills' head. "You're R.E.M., aren't you? I hate R.E.M." he hollers.
4. nothing at all 'til they play something from the last 10 years. Then everyone suddenly decides that they really suck.

Add New Option

Go Back

View Forward Story Tree
View Back Story Tree