Molten Jazz
Magmo McLavra sat down at a table. His huge frame hunched over his tiny cup of coffee, which he attempted to hold lightly in two of his stoney fingers, being careful not to crush it. He lifted it to his mouth and took a sip, and then gently set it back down. He clasped his giant hands together and twidled his thumbs, taking up over half the table in doing so. Deep incisions glowing with molten lava covered his rocky skin, giving him the appearance of being a bright orange and dark black at the same time.
He glanced around the dark cafe, noting an attractive female made entirly of water sitting across the room. A bright yellow fish swum around in her mid-area, a beautiful contrast to her deep blue. He smiled timmedly, but went unnoticed. His gaze continued to the bar where a man made of wood blocks sat, his limbs held up with chains. He seemed to be drowning his sorrows with whisky. Magmo felt sorry for him. Others dotted the small room, including a small whirling tornado with two whirling tornado arms, and a plant creature that had venus fly traps for hands.
Up on stage, The Wonderfalls strummed a jazzy tune, the overall sound seeming like it was underwater.
Magmo flattened a wrinkle in his pin-stripped suit, and he scratched his enormous sqaure jaw. Lifting his cup, he took another sip, but on his way to set it down, squeezed too hard and the tiny mug exploded into a dozen plaster shards. His hands had been shaking.
Mr. Lavra frowned. He felt sorry for the cup. He scooped up the splinters into his giant palm and brought them up to his beady black eyes. He then clasped them in his hands, and set them in a pile on the table. He stared at them, until the jazz stopped. He clapped instinctivly.
A man made of a light sandstone approached the mike and spoke.
"That was The Wonderfalls with 'A Mid Summer's Stream'. Up next, we have a new member to this establishment, Mr. Magmo Lavra. Please give him a warm welcome."
Light applause tinkled in the air as Magmo made his way to the stage.
As he stepped in front of the microphone, he noticed the lights where so bright he could hardly make out the dark shapes of the audience.
"Hello," he announced, in a gravley baratone voice, "I am going to sing you a song."
He glanced around the dark cafe, noting an attractive female made entirly of water sitting across the room. A bright yellow fish swum around in her mid-area, a beautiful contrast to her deep blue. He smiled timmedly, but went unnoticed. His gaze continued to the bar where a man made of wood blocks sat, his limbs held up with chains. He seemed to be drowning his sorrows with whisky. Magmo felt sorry for him. Others dotted the small room, including a small whirling tornado with two whirling tornado arms, and a plant creature that had venus fly traps for hands.
Up on stage, The Wonderfalls strummed a jazzy tune, the overall sound seeming like it was underwater.
Magmo flattened a wrinkle in his pin-stripped suit, and he scratched his enormous sqaure jaw. Lifting his cup, he took another sip, but on his way to set it down, squeezed too hard and the tiny mug exploded into a dozen plaster shards. His hands had been shaking.
Mr. Lavra frowned. He felt sorry for the cup. He scooped up the splinters into his giant palm and brought them up to his beady black eyes. He then clasped them in his hands, and set them in a pile on the table. He stared at them, until the jazz stopped. He clapped instinctivly.
A man made of a light sandstone approached the mike and spoke.
"That was The Wonderfalls with 'A Mid Summer's Stream'. Up next, we have a new member to this establishment, Mr. Magmo Lavra. Please give him a warm welcome."
Light applause tinkled in the air as Magmo made his way to the stage.
As he stepped in front of the microphone, he noticed the lights where so bright he could hardly make out the dark shapes of the audience.
"Hello," he announced, in a gravley baratone voice, "I am going to sing you a song."