Which asked for England to confront America on stealing his songs. I’m sorry for any fail.
As much as Arthur said he couldn’t stand Alfred’s pathetic sports (and as much as he hated him for calling the real sports the wrong things) he couldn’t help but to be swayed by the atmosphere in the crowd at one of Alfred’s college “football” games.
The crowd was enormously large for just an amateur game (that was one thing Arthur couldn’t deny; Alfred’s people were passionate) and he could feel the excitement, the jitters, the fervor of the people around him.
There were thousands of students, and adults, alike painted in orange and white with foam fingers, hats, jerseys and all other sorts of sports paraphernalia. Arthur could see the marching bands (and hear all of their loud trumpeting even in the roar of the crowd), flag twirlers, cheerleaders, all of them in synchronized movement and the whole thing was all so ridiculously elaborate and expensive and stupid.
But it was so very Alfred, so Arthur didn’t mind the chilly air reddening his cheeks and allowed Alfred to put his arm around him.
And everything was fine until one particular song started to play.
God Save the Queen.
Ordinarily, Arthur would be flattered and proud to hear the song play, but this was not one of those times.
It seemed that every person in that godforsaken stadium was singing the wrong lyrics.
Not even remotely right lyrics, but this-should-be-an-entirely-different-song wrong lyrics.
Arthur’s brow furrowed, confused and he looked at the nation beside him, who was grinning widely, singing along. Singing the absolutely, horrifically, wrong lyrics.
After the song finished, Arthur crossed his arms and glared in that way that said, ‘what are you doing, you stupid, stupid person?’
Alfred finally looked at him, and his smile faltered a little.
“What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me. What the hell was that!?”
“What the hell was what?”
“That song! You can’t honestly expect me to not notice my national anthem being butchered and changed for your convenience.”
“That wasn’t your national anthem.”
“Of course it was my national anthem! I think I’d bloody know what it sounds like!”
“Calm down Artie, no one is stealing your national anthem.”
“I think I’d be less angry if you stole it and sang something similar to the right lyrics at least.”
Alfred smiled and Arthur wanted to slap him more. “I can’t steal your national anthem; it’s in public domain!”
“What-!”
Then Arthur was interrupted as an announcer spoke, the man’s voice echoing loudly across the stadium.
“Will you please stand and join in the singing of the national anthem.”
Everyone stood (Arthur begrudgingly so) and some woman walked out and was handed a microphone. The song began and, perhaps because Arthur was still off-put about the other song thing, but he suddenly noticed that it sounded really familiar. It sounded incredibly familiar.
The song ended (not without him wincing at the note on “the land of free”) and Alfred proceeded to go into his ‘football vision,’ ignoring everything that wasn’t a part of the game as it started. So Arthur was stuck, still quite peeved, as he tried to remember where he had heard the tune from America’s anthem from.
He eventually relaxed and watched the game, but the question kept gnawing on his mind and it wasn’t until half time, when he had mostly forgotten about it, that the answer came to him.
Thank God for Public Domain [2/2]
anonymous
July 18 2010, 23:30:33 UTC
“Alfred, you git!”
Alfred looked over at him, mouth filled with hotdog. “Wha?”
“First you steal my national anthem, and then you take one of my drinking songs and turn it into your national anthem!”
“I did no such thing!” Alfred declared with his mouth still full, before swallowing. “And plus, doesn’t the Star Spangled-Banner like, have way too many high notes in it to sing while drunk?”
“Well, you certainly dressed the song up a bit, but it’s still the same tune!”
“You’re senile old man.”
Arthur gritted his teeth, starting to get annoyed. “I am not, you wanker. You’re deliberately stealing my songs.”
“I’m not deliberately stealing them!”
“Oh, just accidently, then?”
“…No!”
“Oh, come off it, Alfred! Why don’t you just admit that you took the songs and save us both an argument!”
At this Alfred remained curiously quiet, and he looked back out over the field. His answer was unusually quiet as well.
“It’s not like it was my idea. When my people came up with ‘My Country ‘Tis of Thee,’ it was shortly after the war. We didn’t have a national anthem and most people could only remember yours, so I guess it seemed kind of natural to take it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up sheepishly at the other.
“And it was sort of similar when Mr. Key came up with the Star Spangled-Banner. The melody fit so well, I guess people just started to use it because it was so popular.”
Arthur’s expression softened at the confession. “You could have just asked, you know?”
“I was willing to take my chances.”
Arthur punched him on the shoulder, unfortunately not hard enough to do real damage.
“You git.”
Alfred smiled back at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You love me for it.”
Arthur scoffed and looked back out over the crowd. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Come on, Artie! Admit it, you love my awesome charm!”
Arthur didn’t say anything, but as he looked out at the field, at the cheerleaders that were still performing against the backdrop of thousands of people, he couldn’t help agree.
“I hate you,” he said, anyway and Alfred laughed and took that as a yes.
Which asked for England to confront America on stealing his songs. I’m sorry for any fail.
As much as Arthur said he couldn’t stand Alfred’s pathetic sports (and as much as he hated him for calling the real sports the wrong things) he couldn’t help but to be swayed by the atmosphere in the crowd at one of Alfred’s college “football” games.
The crowd was enormously large for just an amateur game (that was one thing Arthur couldn’t deny; Alfred’s people were passionate) and he could feel the excitement, the jitters, the fervor of the people around him.
There were thousands of students, and adults, alike painted in orange and white with foam fingers, hats, jerseys and all other sorts of sports paraphernalia. Arthur could see the marching bands (and hear all of their loud trumpeting even in the roar of the crowd), flag twirlers, cheerleaders, all of them in synchronized movement and the whole thing was all so ridiculously elaborate and expensive and stupid.
But it was so very Alfred, so Arthur didn’t mind the chilly air reddening his cheeks and allowed Alfred to put his arm around him.
And everything was fine until one particular song started to play.
God Save the Queen.
Ordinarily, Arthur would be flattered and proud to hear the song play, but this was not one of those times.
It seemed that every person in that godforsaken stadium was singing the wrong lyrics.
Not even remotely right lyrics, but this-should-be-an-entirely-different-song wrong lyrics.
Arthur’s brow furrowed, confused and he looked at the nation beside him, who was grinning widely, singing along. Singing the absolutely, horrifically, wrong lyrics.
After the song finished, Arthur crossed his arms and glared in that way that said, ‘what are you doing, you stupid, stupid person?’
Alfred finally looked at him, and his smile faltered a little.
“What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me. What the hell was that!?”
“What the hell was what?”
“That song! You can’t honestly expect me to not notice my national anthem being butchered and changed for your convenience.”
“That wasn’t your national anthem.”
“Of course it was my national anthem! I think I’d bloody know what it sounds like!”
“Calm down Artie, no one is stealing your national anthem.”
“I think I’d be less angry if you stole it and sang something similar to the right lyrics at least.”
Alfred smiled and Arthur wanted to slap him more. “I can’t steal your national anthem; it’s in public domain!”
“What-!”
Then Arthur was interrupted as an announcer spoke, the man’s voice echoing loudly across the stadium.
“Will you please stand and join in the singing of the national anthem.”
Everyone stood (Arthur begrudgingly so) and some woman walked out and was handed a microphone. The song began and, perhaps because Arthur was still off-put about the other song thing, but he suddenly noticed that it sounded really familiar. It sounded incredibly familiar.
The song ended (not without him wincing at the note on “the land of free”) and Alfred proceeded to go into his ‘football vision,’ ignoring everything that wasn’t a part of the game as it started. So Arthur was stuck, still quite peeved, as he tried to remember where he had heard the tune from America’s anthem from.
He eventually relaxed and watched the game, but the question kept gnawing on his mind and it wasn’t until half time, when he had mostly forgotten about it, that the answer came to him.
Reply
Alfred looked over at him, mouth filled with hotdog. “Wha?”
“First you steal my national anthem, and then you take one of my drinking songs and turn it into your national anthem!”
“I did no such thing!” Alfred declared with his mouth still full, before swallowing. “And plus, doesn’t the Star Spangled-Banner like, have way too many high notes in it to sing while drunk?”
“Well, you certainly dressed the song up a bit, but it’s still the same tune!”
“You’re senile old man.”
Arthur gritted his teeth, starting to get annoyed. “I am not, you wanker. You’re deliberately stealing my songs.”
“I’m not deliberately stealing them!”
“Oh, just accidently, then?”
“…No!”
“Oh, come off it, Alfred! Why don’t you just admit that you took the songs and save us both an argument!”
At this Alfred remained curiously quiet, and he looked back out over the field. His answer was unusually quiet as well.
“It’s not like it was my idea. When my people came up with ‘My Country ‘Tis of Thee,’ it was shortly after the war. We didn’t have a national anthem and most people could only remember yours, so I guess it seemed kind of natural to take it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up sheepishly at the other.
“And it was sort of similar when Mr. Key came up with the Star Spangled-Banner. The melody fit so well, I guess people just started to use it because it was so popular.”
Arthur’s expression softened at the confession. “You could have just asked, you know?”
“I was willing to take my chances.”
Arthur punched him on the shoulder, unfortunately not hard enough to do real damage.
“You git.”
Alfred smiled back at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You love me for it.”
Arthur scoffed and looked back out over the crowd. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Come on, Artie! Admit it, you love my awesome charm!”
Arthur didn’t say anything, but as he looked out at the field, at the cheerleaders that were still performing against the backdrop of thousands of people, he couldn’t help agree.
“I hate you,” he said, anyway and Alfred laughed and took that as a yes.
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It was absolutely adorable. Thank you!
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