Status: Rated R cos the swearing within turns the air blue :P
The Mocha Music TV Challenge
Chapter 2
It was a dark, windy evening. Sullen clouds drifted across the sky, threatening to spill their rain collection down onto Walter Towers and on the people who stood outside. Metallica and Flotsam and Jetsam were there, gazing up at the hotel, contemplating their task ahead. There was also a couple of reporters and cameramen from Mocha Music TV.
From the outside, Walter Towers didn’t look at all haunted. It was a little run down, needing a lick of paint and perhaps, new windows installed. The windows were of the old fashioned type; diamond pained and dating from about 1885. The garden was neat and tidy, with small shrubs and a freshly cut lawn. The path leading up to the front door was weed free but crumbling at the edges and the paint was flaking off the front door in places. Two tall lamps flanked the gate, occasionally flickering and making a buzzing sound.
“OK, so here we are Mocha fans” the male reporter was saying, facing the TV camera. “It’s a quarter past seven on the 31st of October and our bands are just getting ready to enter Walter Towers. The hotel that’s rumoured to be the most haunted in California!”. He turned to the female reporter. “Isn’t that right, Bettina?”
“Absolutely, Harold” said Bettina, giving her team mate a winning smile. “Over the years, there have been numerous reports of haunting within the grounds and of course, the hotel itself”.
“Now that is interesting! Bettina, could you tell our viewers a little about Walter Towers?”
“Of course”. Bettina smiled at the camera. “Walter Towers was built round about two hundred years ago, by English settlers. It’s been operative as a hotel for most of the time. The hotel had been in the Terrys’ family since 1902. The current owners are Mr and Mrs Terrys, who inherited Water Towers from Mr Terry’s grandfather, in the 1950s.
Since then, Mr Terrys has claimed that no guest has ever stayed a full night because of ghostly happenings. Currently, there is a thousand dollar reward offered to any guest who can stay the full term (breakfast included)”.
“Ah, interesting” said Harold. “Bettina, could you tell our fans a little about these ghostly encounters?”
While Bettina talked to the viewers, Lars was briefing his musician buddies on their task ahead, just in case they hadn’t paid attention (or had been drunk) when Mocha Music had told them the rules earlier.
“OK, so at 19:30, we book in, get a quick tour by the manager and then go to our allotted rooms. Once in our rooms, we have to take photos of ourselves with the allotted cameras. Kirk?”
Kirk, who had been gazing at Walter Towers with a dreamy expression on his face, jumped. “Huh? Pardon?”
“The cameras. Have you got them?”
“Oh yeah, sure”. Kirk unzipped a huge sports bag he was wearing and rooted around inside. He took out a Polariod camera and showed it Lars.
“Cool! OK, give one to James and one to Eric. They’re gonna be our cameramen”.
“What are the cameras for?” Eric asked, as he accepted the first one of Kirk. “Are they to try and take photos of ghosts with?”
“Make sure you ask them first?” James sneered. “It’s rude to take a photo without asking”.
“James, don’t be awkward” said Lars in a Teacher Voice. “Actually, they’re to take photos of us”.
“To prove we were there at the hotel” said Kirk, giving James the second Polaroid.
“They have to be pictures we can show to the staff at the hotel and the staff at Mocha Music too” said Lars. “That means no photos of any of us naked, using the bathroom or doing sexual things”.
“Ha, you’re planning to do sexual things” James said and the other guys all laughed. “Who could that be with, I wonder?” He gave Kirk a significant look.
“Shush James” Lars said with dignity.
“Ah!” said Bettina, approaching Lars and beaming at him. “Here we have Mr Ulrich, the drummer of Metallica!” Realising he was being filmed, Lars smiled back and looked attentive.
“Good evening Bettina” he said.
“Good evening, Mr Ulrich. How are you feeling about the challenge ahead?”
“I’m pretty excited, well we all are really” said Lars. “After all the touring we’ve been doing lately, it’ll definitely make a change from our usual schedule”.
As Lars chattered away to Bettina, James scuffed his trainers, looking uncomfortable. He was afraid that he’d get interviewed next and he hated being in the limelight. He shuffled back into the shadows of a overhanging tree, wishing that it was time to go inside.
“Hey Jamie? You alright?” Cliff’s voice said softly next to him.
“Uhh, yeah, I guess so” James muttered.
Cliff grinned at him. “So, are you trying to become one with the tree or just hiding from Bettina?”
“She looks like she might interview me”.
“Dude, you’re the front man of Metallica. The amount of concerts we’ve done over the years and you’ve stood up there, driving the crowds wild”.
“That’s different” James insisted. “I feel different when I’ve got a guitar in my hands”.
“Give me a minute” said Cliff. “I need to think of a suggestive comment about you having other things in your hands”.
“James! Stop hiding back there and come and say hi to the camera!” Lars suddenly appeared next to James, making him nearly fall over a tree root backwards. The rude name he had been about to call Cliff, he called Lars instead.
“Hush James, don’t say words like that when a TV camera is operating” Lars scolded. He ushered James over to Harold (Bettina was talking to Eric). Harold smiled and shook hands with James.
“Ah, Mr Hetfield, a pleasure to meet you”. James grinned weakly. “So, how are you feeling about tonight?”
“Uh…”…said James. This is why I fucking hate interviews! he thought. What the fuck am I meant to say? If I was Lars, I’d be talking nineteen to the fucking dozen now.
“I really fancy a pint. Oh yeah and a big meat pie. With a lovely golden crust on it”.
“Hm, Mr Hetfield?” said Harold, a slightly quizzical look on his face.
“Oh yeah and to our fans!” James stuck his face right in the camera lens. “KEEP IT METAL, FUCKERS!”
“Well yes, thank you for that Mr Hetfield” said Harold, while the camera man tried not to fall over backwards. “And now, we’ll have a quick word with…”…
“Me!” said Lars, skilfully catching the camera man and simultaneously appearing in the camera’s filed of view. “I want to say hi to our fans too! Also, hi to my Mom and Dad”. Lars waved at the camera and did the metal sign with his hands. “Hi to all my uncles, aunts and grandparents. Oh yeah and to Dave and Junior from Megadeth. And the other guys from Megadeth. And to Ron, hi Ron! And to the cat and dogs back at the Metallimansion. And to…”…
“Um, Lars?” said Jason Newsted, who had just come over. Lars turned towards him.
“Yeah dude?”
“It’s half past seven” said Jason, helpfully showing Lars his watch.
From the outside, Walter Towers didn’t look at all haunted. It was a little run down, needing a lick of paint and perhaps, new windows installed. The windows were of the old fashioned type; diamond pained and dating from about 1885. The garden was neat and tidy, with small shrubs and a freshly cut lawn. The path leading up to the front door was weed free but crumbling at the edges and the paint was flaking off the front door in places. Two tall lamps flanked the gate, occasionally flickering and making a buzzing sound.
“OK, so here we are Mocha fans” the male reporter was saying, facing the TV camera. “It’s a quarter past seven on the 31st of October and our bands are just getting ready to enter Walter Towers. The hotel that’s rumoured to be the most haunted in California!”. He turned to the female reporter. “Isn’t that right, Bettina?”
“Absolutely, Harold” said Bettina, giving her team mate a winning smile. “Over the years, there have been numerous reports of haunting within the grounds and of course, the hotel itself”.
“Now that is interesting! Bettina, could you tell our viewers a little about Walter Towers?”
“Of course”. Bettina smiled at the camera. “Walter Towers was built round about two hundred years ago, by English settlers. It’s been operative as a hotel for most of the time. The hotel had been in the Terrys’ family since 1902. The current owners are Mr and Mrs Terrys, who inherited Water Towers from Mr Terry’s grandfather, in the 1950s.
Since then, Mr Terrys has claimed that no guest has ever stayed a full night because of ghostly happenings. Currently, there is a thousand dollar reward offered to any guest who can stay the full term (breakfast included)”.
“Ah, interesting” said Harold. “Bettina, could you tell our fans a little about these ghostly encounters?”
While Bettina talked to the viewers, Lars was briefing his musician buddies on their task ahead, just in case they hadn’t paid attention (or had been drunk) when Mocha Music had told them the rules earlier.
“OK, so at 19:30, we book in, get a quick tour by the manager and then go to our allotted rooms. Once in our rooms, we have to take photos of ourselves with the allotted cameras. Kirk?”
Kirk, who had been gazing at Walter Towers with a dreamy expression on his face, jumped. “Huh? Pardon?”
“The cameras. Have you got them?”
“Oh yeah, sure”. Kirk unzipped a huge sports bag he was wearing and rooted around inside. He took out a Polariod camera and showed it Lars.
“Cool! OK, give one to James and one to Eric. They’re gonna be our cameramen”.
“What are the cameras for?” Eric asked, as he accepted the first one of Kirk. “Are they to try and take photos of ghosts with?”
“Make sure you ask them first?” James sneered. “It’s rude to take a photo without asking”.
“James, don’t be awkward” said Lars in a Teacher Voice. “Actually, they’re to take photos of us”.
“To prove we were there at the hotel” said Kirk, giving James the second Polaroid.
“They have to be pictures we can show to the staff at the hotel and the staff at Mocha Music too” said Lars. “That means no photos of any of us naked, using the bathroom or doing sexual things”.
“Ha, you’re planning to do sexual things” James said and the other guys all laughed. “Who could that be with, I wonder?” He gave Kirk a significant look.
“Shush James” Lars said with dignity.
“Ah!” said Bettina, approaching Lars and beaming at him. “Here we have Mr Ulrich, the drummer of Metallica!” Realising he was being filmed, Lars smiled back and looked attentive.
“Good evening Bettina” he said.
“Good evening, Mr Ulrich. How are you feeling about the challenge ahead?”
“I’m pretty excited, well we all are really” said Lars. “After all the touring we’ve been doing lately, it’ll definitely make a change from our usual schedule”.
As Lars chattered away to Bettina, James scuffed his trainers, looking uncomfortable. He was afraid that he’d get interviewed next and he hated being in the limelight. He shuffled back into the shadows of a overhanging tree, wishing that it was time to go inside.
“Hey Jamie? You alright?” Cliff’s voice said softly next to him.
“Uhh, yeah, I guess so” James muttered.
Cliff grinned at him. “So, are you trying to become one with the tree or just hiding from Bettina?”
“She looks like she might interview me”.
“Dude, you’re the front man of Metallica. The amount of concerts we’ve done over the years and you’ve stood up there, driving the crowds wild”.
“That’s different” James insisted. “I feel different when I’ve got a guitar in my hands”.
“Give me a minute” said Cliff. “I need to think of a suggestive comment about you having other things in your hands”.
“James! Stop hiding back there and come and say hi to the camera!” Lars suddenly appeared next to James, making him nearly fall over a tree root backwards. The rude name he had been about to call Cliff, he called Lars instead.
“Hush James, don’t say words like that when a TV camera is operating” Lars scolded. He ushered James over to Harold (Bettina was talking to Eric). Harold smiled and shook hands with James.
“Ah, Mr Hetfield, a pleasure to meet you”. James grinned weakly. “So, how are you feeling about tonight?”
“Uh…”…said James. This is why I fucking hate interviews! he thought. What the fuck am I meant to say? If I was Lars, I’d be talking nineteen to the fucking dozen now.
“I really fancy a pint. Oh yeah and a big meat pie. With a lovely golden crust on it”.
“Hm, Mr Hetfield?” said Harold, a slightly quizzical look on his face.
“Oh yeah and to our fans!” James stuck his face right in the camera lens. “KEEP IT METAL, FUCKERS!”
“Well yes, thank you for that Mr Hetfield” said Harold, while the camera man tried not to fall over backwards. “And now, we’ll have a quick word with…”…
“Me!” said Lars, skilfully catching the camera man and simultaneously appearing in the camera’s filed of view. “I want to say hi to our fans too! Also, hi to my Mom and Dad”. Lars waved at the camera and did the metal sign with his hands. “Hi to all my uncles, aunts and grandparents. Oh yeah and to Dave and Junior from Megadeth. And the other guys from Megadeth. And to Ron, hi Ron! And to the cat and dogs back at the Metallimansion. And to…”…
“Um, Lars?” said Jason Newsted, who had just come over. Lars turned towards him.
“Yeah dude?”
“It’s half past seven” said Jason, helpfully showing Lars his watch.