The 10 songs, 10 ficlets meme.
Inside, there is:
-Bitterness
-Arse fetish
-Possibly my favourite metaphor
-And corruption
1. Happiest Days Of Our Lives - Pink Floyd
These were, he thought, the happiest days of their lives. And wasn't that sad, to think they'd flickered like a flame and petered out before even so much as singeing a nostril hair on the face of history?
He looked at Vince, who glared back at him. By now, it was routine and they didn't mean much by it.
-
2. Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Richer
They were giddy, still high from the adrenaline of running from aliens, when suddenly warm lips met ones that were alien and cool to her touch.
She smiled almost apologetically, turned away.
He took her hand and with his other hand turned her face towards him.
They kissed again, this time for longer. She lost breath first.
"Well, that was fun," this human Doctor remarked. "Where to next?"
She smiled.
-
3. Money - Pink Floyd
The things men did for money.
For instance, this man. Judging from the cut of his immaculately tailored suit (almost comparable to my own), he'd been wealthy. And vain enough to want to look good even as a cotton sack clung to his face.
Too bad he'd likely shit, piss, and contort himself, spoiling the effect.
I slipped the noose around his neck and wondered where my companion was. I needed a suitable game to challenge him with, because I needed that money.
The man struggled, and the gold chain on his cheap watch broke. It fell to the floor with a dull thud, and the Padre slipped it into his robes before I had a chance to pick it up. The corrupt old bastard.
-
4. Doctor - Atlas
Howard knows something's wrong with Vince this time. He looks like he's gone for the grunge look, pulling on a fluoro flannel jacket that doesn't suit him one bit.
"You okay, little man?" he says. He's cautious, in case it's another trick.
"Feel sick," Vince manages, and shows Howard his shoulderblade.
It looks like oblong scales have formed under his skin, turning it glassy and swollen. Howard retches, then covers it back up.
"Where's Naboo?"
Vince smiles. He replies, "Shopping trip. Bollo's gone, too."
-
5. Cemetery - Silverchair
Vince had almost perfected his morose look. The gothic threeway would be happening soon enough.
He frowned in the mirror again, then burst out laughing. He'd looked like Howard after someone had messed up his pens, and he wasn't sure that was the look goth girls went for.
But he had this genius idea for their date. They'd go for a walk in a dark alley, avoiding streetlights. Then they'd go to the old cemetery along Brick Lane. Leroy's family crypt was there and everything.
-
6. Tomorrow - Silverchair
"Do you want to come to my gig?"
"The Velvet Onion?"
"Nah, I'm bigger than that place now, me and my band. We're going to the Luddite Club."
"Oh, right. Maybe another time, thanks."
"What?"
"You heard me. I'm busy."
"Busy? What have you got going on? Are you gonna play some jazz to yourself in your bedroom all night again?"
"That never happened."
"Bollo saw you. Anyway, the club is genius. They don't usually give gigs to bands, though."
-
7. Opiate - Tool
He'd gone to the old guy again. Once again he didn't remember much of it, but he now had a liquid solution to his problems.
Now, he just had to give it to Matt without him knowing.
Rich sneaked into Matt's room, carefully checking for signs of strange and beautiful women. Instead, there was just the faint smell of sex and a fresh mess on the sheets. Rich felt a little funny when he thought about that, but reminded himself he had a job to do.
Two seconds later, and it was done. He'd slipped the vial's contents into Matt's whiskey. The guy drank a bottle a night, so he'd get through this one.
Then, he'd just have to get Matt to visit, and the old guy's plan would work.
-
8. Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd
He knew heaven from hell. And this was much more painful than hell.
Words didn't leave his lips any more, just hung at the back of his throat. He'd given himself ulcers and chinese burns rather than say what he felt.
"What happened?"
But he knew the answer. They'd given up, lost the dream, settled for something stable and yet uncomfortable. Even though they'd moved.
He wrote to his old friend, occasionally, on beautiful cream paper. He received postcards in return, scribbled over with brightly-coloured crayon. At least that hadn't changed.
-
9. Life's a Bitch - Shooter
He looked into those big, blue, puppy-dog eyes and sighed pointedly.
"Ten pm, at this address."
He'd known this stage appearance was a mistake, but he loved animals. He loved them in captivity, tortured, spliced, broken.
"Bainbridge!"
And there the fool was, again. He let the buffoon in, taking care to slap his ample rump as he walked inside.
-
10. Coming Back To Life - Pink Floyd
So where were you when I was burned and broken? Laughing, having your little fun at Howard who'd tried to fly and once again hit the ground with a crash.
It was more fun when we tried together. I could rely on you to cheer me up, to dust off the ashes and grin and suggest some little thing that would mean we forgot the pain of losing again.
But now, you barely try. You've found your space, sir, your club where the people adore you and no one knows you. You're safe.
I've had to try for the jazz dream, for acting, for anything that will prove I'm great. For cream poetry and twilight music and clumsy attempts to find someone else.
Because you're certainly not the same Vince who wanted to be a rock star, who loved animals, who liked me. You've changed.
-
-Bitterness
-Arse fetish
-Possibly my favourite metaphor
-And corruption
1. Happiest Days Of Our Lives - Pink Floyd
These were, he thought, the happiest days of their lives. And wasn't that sad, to think they'd flickered like a flame and petered out before even so much as singeing a nostril hair on the face of history?
He looked at Vince, who glared back at him. By now, it was routine and they didn't mean much by it.
-
2. Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Richer
They were giddy, still high from the adrenaline of running from aliens, when suddenly warm lips met ones that were alien and cool to her touch.
She smiled almost apologetically, turned away.
He took her hand and with his other hand turned her face towards him.
They kissed again, this time for longer. She lost breath first.
"Well, that was fun," this human Doctor remarked. "Where to next?"
She smiled.
-
3. Money - Pink Floyd
The things men did for money.
For instance, this man. Judging from the cut of his immaculately tailored suit (almost comparable to my own), he'd been wealthy. And vain enough to want to look good even as a cotton sack clung to his face.
Too bad he'd likely shit, piss, and contort himself, spoiling the effect.
I slipped the noose around his neck and wondered where my companion was. I needed a suitable game to challenge him with, because I needed that money.
The man struggled, and the gold chain on his cheap watch broke. It fell to the floor with a dull thud, and the Padre slipped it into his robes before I had a chance to pick it up. The corrupt old bastard.
-
4. Doctor - Atlas
Howard knows something's wrong with Vince this time. He looks like he's gone for the grunge look, pulling on a fluoro flannel jacket that doesn't suit him one bit.
"You okay, little man?" he says. He's cautious, in case it's another trick.
"Feel sick," Vince manages, and shows Howard his shoulderblade.
It looks like oblong scales have formed under his skin, turning it glassy and swollen. Howard retches, then covers it back up.
"Where's Naboo?"
Vince smiles. He replies, "Shopping trip. Bollo's gone, too."
-
5. Cemetery - Silverchair
Vince had almost perfected his morose look. The gothic threeway would be happening soon enough.
He frowned in the mirror again, then burst out laughing. He'd looked like Howard after someone had messed up his pens, and he wasn't sure that was the look goth girls went for.
But he had this genius idea for their date. They'd go for a walk in a dark alley, avoiding streetlights. Then they'd go to the old cemetery along Brick Lane. Leroy's family crypt was there and everything.
-
6. Tomorrow - Silverchair
"Do you want to come to my gig?"
"The Velvet Onion?"
"Nah, I'm bigger than that place now, me and my band. We're going to the Luddite Club."
"Oh, right. Maybe another time, thanks."
"What?"
"You heard me. I'm busy."
"Busy? What have you got going on? Are you gonna play some jazz to yourself in your bedroom all night again?"
"That never happened."
"Bollo saw you. Anyway, the club is genius. They don't usually give gigs to bands, though."
-
7. Opiate - Tool
He'd gone to the old guy again. Once again he didn't remember much of it, but he now had a liquid solution to his problems.
Now, he just had to give it to Matt without him knowing.
Rich sneaked into Matt's room, carefully checking for signs of strange and beautiful women. Instead, there was just the faint smell of sex and a fresh mess on the sheets. Rich felt a little funny when he thought about that, but reminded himself he had a job to do.
Two seconds later, and it was done. He'd slipped the vial's contents into Matt's whiskey. The guy drank a bottle a night, so he'd get through this one.
Then, he'd just have to get Matt to visit, and the old guy's plan would work.
-
8. Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd
He knew heaven from hell. And this was much more painful than hell.
Words didn't leave his lips any more, just hung at the back of his throat. He'd given himself ulcers and chinese burns rather than say what he felt.
"What happened?"
But he knew the answer. They'd given up, lost the dream, settled for something stable and yet uncomfortable. Even though they'd moved.
He wrote to his old friend, occasionally, on beautiful cream paper. He received postcards in return, scribbled over with brightly-coloured crayon. At least that hadn't changed.
-
9. Life's a Bitch - Shooter
He looked into those big, blue, puppy-dog eyes and sighed pointedly.
"Ten pm, at this address."
He'd known this stage appearance was a mistake, but he loved animals. He loved them in captivity, tortured, spliced, broken.
"Bainbridge!"
And there the fool was, again. He let the buffoon in, taking care to slap his ample rump as he walked inside.
-
10. Coming Back To Life - Pink Floyd
So where were you when I was burned and broken? Laughing, having your little fun at Howard who'd tried to fly and once again hit the ground with a crash.
It was more fun when we tried together. I could rely on you to cheer me up, to dust off the ashes and grin and suggest some little thing that would mean we forgot the pain of losing again.
But now, you barely try. You've found your space, sir, your club where the people adore you and no one knows you. You're safe.
I've had to try for the jazz dream, for acting, for anything that will prove I'm great. For cream poetry and twilight music and clumsy attempts to find someone else.
Because you're certainly not the same Vince who wanted to be a rock star, who loved animals, who liked me. You've changed.
-