And The Band Played On
17 Mar 1999
by
Glo-Ira

    "Oh Mandy, I think I love youuuuuuuuu, at the Copa...Copa-Cobana..."

    "Whoa, whoa, hold up. Somebody's flat."

    Gloira put down her penis-shaped baton and glared towards the Rambo Jim Heads.

    "Wasn't me"

    "Not me either"

    "I didn't hear anything"

    The heads spoke in unison and the wolf started to howl.

    "Ro, do something with that wolf!" Gloira shouted.

    The cabbie jumped up from behind her harp and slipped the wolf the bone she always carries in her pants for those 'just in case times.'

    "Now listen you guys," the bandleader groused. "I know it's early. And I know it's hard to hear ourselves over that thunderous snoring coming from MamaBird's apartment. But we have to concentrate and focus here. We have a concert coming up soon. Plus we have to redeem our good name which has been besmirched.

    "Besmirched! Whose been besmirching? There's no besmirching allowed in this building!" The Head of security slid her hand under the green fringes of her costume to reach for her water pistol.

    "No no no," Gloira cautioned. "That's not necessary. Just calm down and go back to your butterfly dance. All we need to do is crank things up a little around here. So give that tambourine all you've got. Hey Kath, give us a few more bangs on those cymbals after each verse. And Elaine, is there any way to turn up the volume on that accordion? We need to drown out that hideous snoring and make sure our melodic sounds reach a certain blonde blintz right where it hurts."

    As though on cue, that certain blonde blintz descended sheepishly down the stairs, golden locks tousled, guitar in hand.

    "Well, well, well. Look who's here. What wakes you up at this hour?"

    "I um...well...I was...I mean we were...we were thinking maybe we could join the band. I know a thing or two about music."

    "What does that have to do with our band?"

    Glo turned her head fast to see where that crack came from, but the band members all smiled innocently...except for the Rambo Jim Heads, who seemed to be snickering.

    Ignoring the interruption, Glo stared at Hutchinson, her eyes drawn to the huge bulging outline pressing against his tight jeans.

    "Hmmmm...maybe you have something you can offer to our band. But then again, why should we let you in here? You're the one that's been besmirching us."

    The tambourine rattled as the Head of Security bristled, "Besmirching! Whose been besmirching? There's no besmirching allowed in..."

    "Yeah, yeah we know," the heads chimed in unison. "Give it a rest, tambourine girl."

    Hutch made his way around the harp and past the French horn, making sure to duck as the Head of Security practiced one of her interpretive moves very close to the floating heads. When he had stepped over the Kazoo player and tripped over the pile of not-yet-sewn-on-green-fringes on the floor, he came face to face with Gloira, gazing longingly for a moment at her penis-shaped baton before finally speaking again.

    "Yeah, well about those...those...uh...comments I made..." He paused, wondering for a moment just exactly how the comments he made in the privacy of his own apartment had spread like wildfire throughout the building. He gazed up suspiciously toward one of the endless security cameras in this building and not for the first time wondered about just why there were so many.

    "Listen Blondie," Gloira said, trying to get his attention off the camera. "You're starting to zone like one of those damned heads. Now if you've got something to say, out with it because you are interrupting our very important rehearsal time."

    Hutch gazed around the lobby, noticing all the band members gazing around their instruments, eyes trained right on his crotch. His slid his guitar down over the bulge, trying to remember what it was he had come here to say.

    "Oh yeah. About the band. Well, like I said. I've been thinking it over and I'd like to become a member."

    Having heard samples of the cop's music blaring from Flamingo's stereo at all hours of the night, she wondered about the wisdom of letting him sit in. Even this band had some standards.

    "Give me one good reason why I should let you join," she challenged.

    "Starsk!" Hutch called nervously.

    All heads turned from Hutch's crotch then to witness the descent of the red long-john clad Starsky heading down the stairs with some spoons.

    "How about because I come with my own uniform," Starsky grinned, tapping out a little ditty on his spoons as he performed an interpretive dance of his own, shimmying deliciously in those red long johns until the entire band began to sway and moan.

    "You're IN!" Glo shouted. Then she turned to the other band members. "Now as soon as you all wipe that drool off your instruments, squeeze over and make some room for our new members."

    "Does anybody know 'Don't Give Up On Us Baby'?" Hutch questioned eagerly as he slid over Paladin's radio and sat down.

    And the band played on....

    Love, Gloira

    (this is all your fault Sandy)