When You're Strange

The next day I woke up to find Frank bare naked on the couch. It was 2 in the afternoon and he was still asleep. I guess those strippers tired him out. Jimmy had gone out for band practice and we haven't spoken since yesterday. This was a perfect time to get the band together and write some songs.

I gathered Patrick and Charlie in the living room and woke up Frank.

"What the fuck do you guys want?" he mumbled.

"Frank we have to ask you something, it's important so get up and put some pants on. You're balls smell horrible man," I whispered.

He just groaned and covered his private area with a nearby pillow. He lazily sat up and rubbed his eyes for a few seconds before putting his glasses on.

"So Frank, I heard you were in Bruce Springsteen cover band back in the day eh?" I questioned.

"Are you serious? I was the fucking boss back in the day," he said, while standing up and looking for his wallet. "Here, look at this shit. I was the John Travolta of Detroit. I was cool, I danced real good, and I had chicks all over me."

He handed me a picture of himself licking his guitar while playing. He had a Joe Dirt mullet, and a silver outfit. I swear he looks like Verne Troyer in Austin Powers, plus the disgusting mullet. I just faked a smile and gave it back to him.

"So, I was thinking yesterday, of you know, starting a band. Patrick and Charlie are already in it, so I was wondering if you wanted to uh, join?"

"Are you serious? Of course, I'll join your piece of shit band. I still have my guitar, all the way from 1984, trust me it still works!" he shouted, while running to his room.

We all just sat there waiting for Frank to come out, when I gasped as soon as I saw what he was wearing. He had a mullet wig on, a sleeveless 'Choose Life' t-shirt from that Wham! music video, and tight leather pants. He was holding a dirty banjo. What the fuck are we, a fucking country band.

"Dude what the hell is that? I thought you played in a Springsteen cover band?"

"Yea, a country version of Bruce."

"But you said you had a great guitar. That's not a guitar, that's a piece of shit."

"Oh come one Syd, it's not about the music, it's about getting pussy every night. It's about fame, money, and pussy. Just go with it Syd, it doesn't really matter how you look, your still gonna get laid. I mean look at me, I'm an ugly fuck, but I still get laid, cause I tell everybody I'm in a band," he explained.

"But you haven't been in a band since since the 80's."

"I know," he laughed.

I just sat there thinking if I really wanted to do this, especially with this people. I looked at the three of them, just sitting there. Patrick scratching his ass, then smelling his hand. Charlie painting his nails red and blue, while Frank picked his nose and flickered the bugger on Patrick's hair.

"Okay, yea you're in Frank. But if were gonna take this serious, we have to start practicing everyday, all day without any interruptions," I told them. "But first, we have to get instruments."

"Oh god, I got this under control, one of my old cell mate steals for a living. He can get you drums, guitars, anything you want man," Frank spoke up.

4 Weeks Later.

Our instruments finally arrived today, I actually thought I was gonna be happy with the results, when I saw the actual instruments in front of me. The 3 piece drum set couldn't be any shittier than it looked like. It was old and dirty, and it looked like it cost $20. The bass was an old Ibanez, which by the way sounded horrible, but at least it was something. And the last one that really pissed me off was my new guitar. Which was a scratched up, old brown Fender Squier. As soon as I saw it, I quickly plugged it in the Frontman 10g amp, which sounded like a cat being strangled to death. I just wondered how much Frank paid for this piece of shit instruments, and how the hell are we gonna make music with it.

I looked over Patrick sitting in his new drum set, attempting to play something. We agreed that Charlie was gonna be the singer as well as the bassist, so we settled that. I was on lead guitar and Frank will be rhythm with his banjo, I guess.

"So which song do we start with?" Frank asked.

"Uh, I was thinking about 'Seven Nation Army' by the White Stripes. How 'bout that?"

"What? Fuck that, that is way too hard for me, let's play something easier," Patrick whined.

"The fuck? That is easy, that's probably like the easiest song I've ever played," I told him.

"Yea well, unlike you, we've never picked up instruments before, so shut up."

I just sighed.

"Hey how about I do a solo with my banjo?" Frank asked.

I sighed heavier this time. I shouldn't have done this. As soon as I was about to leave, Jimmy walked in the living room, where we were and made a face. I knew what he was thinking, our instruments were so small, we didn't even take half the room.

"Oh wow, sorry if I'm interrupting the jam session but I have to get ready for a gig, my band, which is way better than yours, is opening for a The Cure cover band tonight. So suck on that," he said, and walked to his room.

I don't know why but, I was jealous.

"The Cure? Dude that's the gayest shit ever," Frank whispered.