Textbook Criminals. Part 5

Ric breaks the monotony of the day and has a daydream.

Ultimate Guitar

It is often said that Ric has an incredibly short attention span, and this is quite true. This may explain why he is always listening to music, even if it's just in his head. It also causes frequent daydream scenarios. This is one such daydream, occurring during the first band meeting.


Brad was sweating. That was pretty obvious. His comedic t-shirt was had gone from light blue to dark blue, and he was beginning to regret wearing jeans. He wasn't even unfit; he just tended to put a lot into his performances. Sadly, this often left him drained, and his sixteen-year-old body craved a drink of something, anything.

John's medium-cut, blonde hair was getting in his eyes again. This would be fine if he wasn't trying to look at the frets on his guitar and work out where to start for the next song. His face was screwed up in concentration, and his fingers felt as though they'd been rubbed away by the sheer force of his shredding skills.

Ric was smiling. He looked out over the crowd, all of whom were smiling back. Some were calling his name. He had put some effort into his outfit tonight, the usual shirt over t-shirt combination being put into full effect. His once large, ridiculous hair had been cut shorter and straightened, so that he looked cool rather than stupid. His throat hurt, but he didn't care.

You all enjoying the show? he called out.

The crowd responded with shouts and screams of delight. They were there at the first ever Textbook Criminals gig. They all knew these guys were gonna go big. They all owned the EP the band had recorded only a week ago, and many of them had it signed by the band members. Probably because most of them knew the band members as friends anyway. But no matter, a signed EP may one day be worth a fortune, and they all kept this in mind. Right now, however, they wanted more.

More music coming from the fantastic three that were rocking their worlds right now.

More of Ric's voice covering them and wrapping them up like a warm blanket.

More of John's guitar roaring through their bodies, as he played tasty licks up and down the neck of the guitar.

More of Brad's crashing and banging in perfect time to bring the band into one big, powerful sound that they would remember for years to come.

I think we've got another song left. What do you think John?

John smiled and laughed. He could play all night if he was given the chance. Just the feeling of being loved by a crowd was enough to give him the energy to carry on until the sun went down and rose up again.

Brad? Thoughts?

Brad responded with a fast, loud solo on the drums. It ended with an almighty smash on the crash. Ric laughed. A few members of the crowd cheered, but some were getting impatient.

Ok. Well, we've been the Textbook Criminals- shouting came from the crowd, whooping and cheering soon followed, and this is Why Do All Girls Think They're Fat?

The crowed cheered, although no one knew what the song was. In a perfect world, the band would've ended on something original, but the idea of song writing had yet to be mentioned, and so they had stuck to covers for now. And since none of the crowd had any idea who had done the song originally, maybe they thought the band HAD written it.

John started playing the intro, a soft, slow series of notes. Brad tapped the hi-hat lightly in the appropriate places. Then the song began properly. Ric almost screamed the first line into the microphone.


The band came in hard and fast, John slamming the strings with as much force as possible to get the sound as loud as he could. Brad went crazy on the drums, keeping in time but thrashing like a mad man. The crowd were loving it.


Ric's voice boomed throughout the hall while John played his chords at sonic speed. The crowd bounced up and down, throwing their heads and those dumb little punk fingers around like they were the coolest kids in the world. This was the last time they'd be able to truly let go tonight, so they threw themselves into it with enormous amounts of enthusiasm.

The band powered through the song, through the verses and choruses, giving it their all. They wanted the night to go out with a bang, and so far it looked like they were being successful.

They reached the solo, and John slid into it with style. He hammered-on, pulled-off, bent, slid, sped up and slowed down. The song was supposed to be about 3 minutes long, but John was adding another one to it with his amazing skill. Girls were screaming his name over the sheer awesome power of his playing.

Everything was going perfectly. Ric was loving every second of it. But then he noticed a disturbance at the back of the hall. There was screaming, but it was the wrong kind. Doors slammed shut, and people were running. Ric missed his cue to take up the chorus again, and the musicians slowed to a stop. Brad walked up next to Ric to get a better look at what was going on.

Suddenly, a ridiculously large blood spray threw itself up and over the crowd. Everyone was covered in a red liquid, and no one really knew what it was. Everything had ground to a halt, and the noise was the incessant screaming from the back of the room.

Oh. Oh, God. Brad muttered to Ric's left.

Jesus, what the hell is going on? asked John from the right.

An almighty groan told them everything they needed to know. They stared at the shuffling figures heading towards them. Ric was the first to state the obvious.

Oh Christ, it's a zombie outbreak!

The undead had risen, and were craving the brains of the mass collection of teenagers in the room. The walking corpses blocked all the exits, and the number of living was dropping drastically. Only the three kids on the stage kept a cool head.

Let's go kick some ass!


Why did I start talking in an American accent? wondered Ric aloud. His companions gave him a funny look.

Jesus, you were daydreaming weren't you? asked Brad, a slight smile on his face.

Ha, was Laura in this one? Did she start suggesting a few things about your fingering technique? laughed John. Ric laughed too, appreciating the stupid guitar pun, even though it was ridiculously poor taste and actually quite bad.

Nah, this one had zombies and stuff.

John laughed. Gayyyy.

Ric smiled. Shall we get back to the band talk then?

2 comments sorted by best / new / date

    nit of a change from the old formula of a story about a fledging band lol, zombies? youv been playing too much left 4 dead