Archive for the ‘Fiction’ Category


Coming Together

April 27, 2010

“I’ve Wanted You Since Middle School (Album Version)” a mashup by 2 Guys And A System

Note: This is a mashup I made under my old act 2 Guys And A System aka 2GS. It had a very limited run, so here’s another shot. Also, I made another version of the song that removed the Muppets and Marvin Gaye samples and extended the Bella sample over the bridge. Kathy likes that version of the song more and I’ll probably post it some time later.

Chris surveys the crowd from the duplex kitchen as he goes to get a cup of water to clear his throat. His hands are slick with sweat and he almost drops the cup onto the wooden floor. The guitar is on the porch, waiting for Chris to make it sing. The people mull about talking in their buzzed haze. People are gonna network tonight. People are gonna flirt tonight. Some people might be disappointed tonight.

Lisa is spinning hip hop and bastard pop music and working the crowd before Chris joins her. She has the idea to pull this show together for the block party. It is a first for their neighborhood, getting the three acts together onstage. If it sucks, they all go down.

Lisa gets three of the women in her office to sing the hook for the jam. It’s the first time singing in public for two of them, and the third has just bowling-alley-karaoke and SingStar experience. There’s anticipation in the air: to perform, to show, to make yourself known.


Lisa drops the first beat and Chris gets nervous and tries to break the tension with a joke, but the audience doesn’t care. They came for a show. They get it when the Accounting Trio sings the first notes.

Chris feels like the whole show is about to fall apart as he plays his guitar over the beats, but he pushes it to the back of his mind when he sees his wife Melissa and their daughter Jane. He sings the song he sings to Melissa because he still loves her and wants her.

Even when some guy gets drunk, jumps the stage, and refuses to leave, he sings like an angel standing in with the Accounting Trio. By the last chorus, everyone is jamming together and the neighborhood is clapping along.

Things feel right tonight.


Eric B. & Rakim – “Paid In Full” from the 4th & B’Way/Island album Paid In Full (1987)

The Muppets – “Pachalafaka” from the Arista/Pye album The Muppet Show (1977)

Third Eye Blind – “I Want You” from the Elektra album Third Eye Blind (1997)

Bella – “Ordinary Girl” from the Warner Bros./Reprise single Caught Up (2006)

Nine Inch Nails – “Closer” from the Nothing/Interscope album The Downward Spiral (1994)

Marvin Gaye – “Sexual Healing” from the Columbia album Midnight Love (1982)


Excerpt from The Analyst

February 5, 2010

Tin Star – “Viva” from The Thrill Kisser
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Note: I tried looking for this record on Amazon, iTunes, and EMusic, and I found nothing, so get this any way you can.

“We’ve got to live,” thought Kelly as she paced down the office hallway. “We’ve got to live.” Earlier in the day she had never thought things would come to this. She was shocked and in denial when the order came down from her division’s director, but that seemed like a long time ago. The situation now called for a new perspective. After all, her managers always said that she had “learning agility.”

She had studied for her MBA in marketing and finance in order to have “transferable skills,” but at this point in her career, so did most of her competition. She knew that once she was out she was out, and out on the street it was a tooth and nail struggle, a survival of the fittest.

Her firm’s board of directors was hitting the CEO Alan Byrne hard for his executive compensation. At one point, that compensation may have been lavish, but now those millions were protecting his network of family and friends from poverty and the desperate masses. It was time for him to implement his own survival plan and show how he came to be the CEO. He drafted an order to be distributed through the company vice presidents and their directors. Through the legalese the message was clear: the street was coming to the boardroom….

Kelly froze halfway to the executive conference room.  She flashed back to her last debate meet in high school. Sitting in a cafeteria in someone else’s high school, Kelly was quaking in her seat. She would have fled that meet were it not for her muse. The hard dance rock that never seemed to catch on made her feel unique. The dirty bass made her feel confident. The tough posturing made her feel hard by proxy. Did she win that meet?

Today the band was dead, but she wouldn’t be. Kelly wouldn’t merely keep her job, but she would lead her team to victory under the banner of a forgotten artist. Kelly would run this company some day and her path would start with her first kill. She pulled out her battered old CD player and cued up track 4. Time to win or die trying.


The Ruined Auditorium

February 3, 2010

“Get drunk quick,” he commanded the concert guests. The organ swelled and the piano twinkled in the air, and the red and yellow stage lights bathed everything in a warm, oppressive amniotic glow. The faded wood paneling looked even further decayed as the dust on the auditorium carpet began to rise with the movements of the audience. This was their last show.

The man onstage wore makeup that was fading and smearing as time went on. He clutched the microphone and began to sing about some lost love and breaking apart like glass. His voice grew more urgent with each verse to the point where he was looking into the crowd like a cornered animal, at once uneasy and flighty. His white shirt was open, exposing his skin to the hazy light and his jeans were soaked with sweat. By the song’s coda he was crying.

Behind him were his bandmates, the organ player and the pianist, both decked in flamboyant suites, the pianist’s white and the organist’s sky blue. Both had looks of certainty, a grim determination to keep playing no matter what. Their playing seemed to be getting slower and slower to the point of a dirge, a serious decrescendo.

Out in the auditorium, the audience nodded their heads and drank their drinks of cheap beer and warm scotch. A few had their flasks of rum and their fifths of vodka in their jacket pockets. Some of the couples cuddled and embraced against one another, some in boredom, others in passion. Coats were piled to the side and in the burnt-orange colored seats.

Most of the auditorium doors were closed to keep the sound in, but one was open into the atrium/lobby. The lobby, with its white marble floors and dark oak walls, was empty, save for two women sitting on a couch near the ticket table talking about the graffiti on the opposite wall with a detached amusement. The graffiti, written in white spray paint, read “Protect me.”
“Protect whom?” the first woman asked. “Protect the wall? The auditorium? Protect some person? It’s just so vague that the act is just in vain. Whoever needed protection isn’t going to get it because they didn’t specify.”

The second woman didn’t respond at first, but continued to think. She sat silently for about two minutes before she gave a response. “It’s not a plea.” The first woman tunred towards her. “It’s a prayer.”

Around this time the monster revealed itself.


-RJD2 – “You Never Had It So Good” from The Third Hand (XL)

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