(Untitled)

[jemaine]

It had been fifteen days, which was over two weeks (that's true even in New Zealand) since Bret had vanished into thin air, and Jemaine decided that he wasn't coming back. That was... upsetting. Especially since Jemaine hadn't had the foresight to make tape recordings of Bret singing backup to their songs. Stupid, stupid, stupid!With all the

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[red_ponytail]

Bill could hear the sound of the guitar before he walked into the rec room, bass slung over his shoulder and amp in one hand, intending to park himself there for his usual daily practise session. He thought he recognised the bloke playing as the one who ran the so-called New Zealand Consulate out of the games closet, and strolled over, listening to the lyrics.

"You just write that, mate?" he asked. "Not a bad start." Especially not when you considered the musicians where he came from had hit songs like 'A Cauldron Full Of Hot, Strong Love'.

[jemaine]

Jemaine glanced up at him. "If you were writing a love song, what would it be about?"

He eyed the bass with some interest.

[red_ponytail]

"A love song?" Bill echoed. He thought about it a moment.

"I'm not much of a songwriter - I usually just play, and leave that to people who can do it better," he said, with a crooked grin. "I think I'd write a song about how I want a bird with more than just good looks, you know, someone who's got something going on upstairs." He tapped a forefinger to the side of his head.

"Either that, or something about how I love blondes." His grin widened.

[jemaine]

"Yeah, I like girls with good looking hair too," said Jemaine.

[red_ponytail]

A nice arse didn't hurt, as well. Bill nodded in agreement. "You writing a love song, then?" he asked.