Sequel: Making the Album ›
Changes
Record Company.
"Sign here... And here... Initial here... And last name here..."
Mike lounged in the black leather recliner, watching the Dolls signing their record contract. Billie was sipping a beer, almost frowning, almost smiling.
Suddenly, the record executive snatched the pen from Robert's hands.
"You can't sign like THAT!" Robert leapt up, trying to grab the pen back. Tony smiled, watching the two of them.
"And why the fucking hell not?" Robert demanded. Blondie chuckled, spinning a drumstick. Tom blew a stream of cigarette smoke into the air. The executive gave him a dirty look.
"First of all, put that out."
Tom ground out the cigarette on the shiny tabletop.
"And secondly, you can't sign the contract with THOSE names. You need to sign with your GIVEN names."
"My stage name is a good as my given name." Tony murmured, but Robert had stood up, his face twisted into a snarl, inches from the executives.
"Do you think, for one minute, that I'm going to sign that contract with the name my goddamn druggie parents gave me? If I sign the fucking contract, it will be with MY name. MINE, not my parents."
"But... Legally..."
"Are you afraid that'll we'll skip out on the contract?"
There was silence. Mike was half-out of his chair, about to intervene, but Tre reached out a hand to stop him.
"Just let them handle it."
Robert snatched the pen away from the executive.
"We are honest musicians. We aren't going to skip out on this once we've signed it. But we aren't signing anything unless it's with OUR names."
Billie could almost see the poor man coming to his decision.
"Sign it. Just sign it. It's on your own head then."
The next few minutes were filled with the scratching of pens and flipping of pages. Billie watched Tony as she twirled a multi-colored lock of hair.
Blondie finished first and began to drum the beat from some obscure Clash song. Billie couldn't focus long enough to think of the name.
Tony sat back, flipped over the contract and promptly scaweled the ban's name over the back of it. Mike saw the record executive wince. He pitied the poor man, wondering how the doodles and odd names would be received by the producers. And he started grinning as he imagined their shocked faces.
Still smiling, he stood and slapped Tom on the back, nearly toppling the little guy into the table.
"DRINKS ON ME!" shouted Tre, and they all piled towards the door. Billie glanced back and saw the record executive knock over a chair.
Mike lounged in the black leather recliner, watching the Dolls signing their record contract. Billie was sipping a beer, almost frowning, almost smiling.
Suddenly, the record executive snatched the pen from Robert's hands.
"You can't sign like THAT!" Robert leapt up, trying to grab the pen back. Tony smiled, watching the two of them.
"And why the fucking hell not?" Robert demanded. Blondie chuckled, spinning a drumstick. Tom blew a stream of cigarette smoke into the air. The executive gave him a dirty look.
"First of all, put that out."
Tom ground out the cigarette on the shiny tabletop.
"And secondly, you can't sign the contract with THOSE names. You need to sign with your GIVEN names."
"My stage name is a good as my given name." Tony murmured, but Robert had stood up, his face twisted into a snarl, inches from the executives.
"Do you think, for one minute, that I'm going to sign that contract with the name my goddamn druggie parents gave me? If I sign the fucking contract, it will be with MY name. MINE, not my parents."
"But... Legally..."
"Are you afraid that'll we'll skip out on the contract?"
There was silence. Mike was half-out of his chair, about to intervene, but Tre reached out a hand to stop him.
"Just let them handle it."
Robert snatched the pen away from the executive.
"We are honest musicians. We aren't going to skip out on this once we've signed it. But we aren't signing anything unless it's with OUR names."
Billie could almost see the poor man coming to his decision.
"Sign it. Just sign it. It's on your own head then."
The next few minutes were filled with the scratching of pens and flipping of pages. Billie watched Tony as she twirled a multi-colored lock of hair.
Blondie finished first and began to drum the beat from some obscure Clash song. Billie couldn't focus long enough to think of the name.
Tony sat back, flipped over the contract and promptly scaweled the ban's name over the back of it. Mike saw the record executive wince. He pitied the poor man, wondering how the doodles and odd names would be received by the producers. And he started grinning as he imagined their shocked faces.
Still smiling, he stood and slapped Tom on the back, nearly toppling the little guy into the table.
"DRINKS ON ME!" shouted Tre, and they all piled towards the door. Billie glanced back and saw the record executive knock over a chair.