This is a new story, if you like it, please say something nice, if you don’t, oh well. Also: I am not a professional author, so if you’re the kind of person who gets off on pointing out grammatical and spelling errors, then I feel sorry for you. Also, ewww, get a life!



“All in favor of killing Becky, raise their hands?”

Four hands shot up instantly.

“It’s agreed, we kill the bitch. As soon as possible.”

Oh, don’t worry, dear reader, we’re not really planning on killing someone. We’d like to, but we’re not that violent or bloodthirsty. Becky is, or was, I should say, our bass player in our band, the Pastels. So named because of our love of 80’s new wave, power pop and we all dress the part with big hair, pastels, etc. I play guitar and sing lead, Deanna plays lead guitar and sings, Kim plays keyboards, Violet plays drums and sings, and Becky had been our bass player who also sang some leads. The bitch had been very reliable until she got a boyfriend who also played, and she’d sat in with his band, and now had taken a regular gig with them leaving us in the lurch. We also had our biggest show coming up on Friday night at a decent sized club, and no bass player. At one point we’d been a power trio with me on bass, but I can’t sing that well while I’m playing bass, and our material was too complicated now to even try.

“I can do some of your guitar parts, could we maybe minimize some of it?” asks Kim.

I shake my head as does Deanna. “Too much to change, and face it, maybe 5 songs we could pull off like that, everything else requires all of us.” We’d developed a pretty good set, and we’d worked damn hard at getting tight and polished. Now Becky’s betrayal was going to hurt us, big time. You bail on a big gig, kiss any hope of getting more of them goodbye.

Deanna is lost in intense concentration.

“Earth to Deanna, come in Deanna!” I call.

She looks up with a smile. “I have the answer. Khaos.”

Khaos works at the Hot Gear Warehouse. He knows…..every musician within a hundred miles. He’s weird, he has a lazy eye, and he’d ogle the shit out of all of us, but he’d know someone who could fit the bill. The guy’s a creep, but he is pretty useful in these situations. He hooked me up in my first paying gig five years ago because he remembered that I’m a huge Matthew Sweet fan and knew all of his stuff. We decide to stop on by. Hot Gear Warehouse is not a fence, it’s legal, but the name sounds good and it’s best place to buy if you’re on a budget, and if you know the people well, they’ll help you find some great stuff, my Rickenbacker 325 was bought there as was my Telecaster.



Khaos mans the counter, and he leers as we come in.

“My favorite colors, but y’all are missing one, where’s Teal?” He named us after the colors, which we hadn’t thought of, so we all coordinated our outfits to go with it.

“Teal, aka Becky, has gone bitch on us and bailed for her boyfriend’s shitty grunge band. We are now fucked unless we find a bass player that we can get set up on our set list by Friday and make a good show of it.” I tell him. “Who is floating around in that incredible brain of yours that can do the job, oh wise one?” A little flattery never hurts.

He looks me up and down, looks Deanna up and down, and decides that Violet is the most ogle worthy in the band and checks her out pretty intently. Despite being the youngest, she’s pretty sharp and she takes something out of her pocket and drops it.

“Ooooops. Dropped that. I’ll have to get it.” and she slowly, and exaggeratedly bends over to pick it up and gives Khaos a great view of her ass and legs as she’s wearing shorts. His breath catches and as she stands back up she winks at me.

“Sooo…do you know of anyone that can help us, you sweet man?” she asks him with her most air headed look and voice. Khaos is putty in her hands.

“Bass, backing vocals, fast study, knowledge of most 80’s stuff, and cute would be good, right?” He keeps these categories in his head somehow, with no written record or computers, he’s actually pretty smart.

“We’d settle for a Labrador at this point.” says Deanna. “As long as we can take the stage without a problem.”

“How’s your Dutch?” he asks.

“Our Dutch? What does that have to do with it?”

“She’s Dutch, but she speaks good English and knows a LOT of material, so language shouldn’t be a problem, but it never hurts to ask, does it?”

“Okay, is she cool, sharp and is she a druggie? You know a few drinks are cool, but we’re a drug-free band.”

“She’s clean as a whistle, very nice, funny and a recent transplant from Rotterdam. I think you’ll get along all right, except she’s not going to fit your look, she’s got short hair.”

“Pfft!” says Deanna. “As long as she can play, who cares about her hair? Give us the number you-“

“Well, thank you so much, could you please give us her number se we can make our big gig this weekend? You’re so sweet to help us.” Violet’s got this guy all figured out. He rapidly scribbles out a number on a post it note and hands it to her. She caresses his hand softly as she takes it, as if to hint that she can’t wait to see him again, although she’s most likely revolted by him. “Thanks again Mr. Khaos, you’re such a huge help, will you be at our show?”

“Uh yeah, yeah, I will, you playing Circus?”

“Oh, we’re at Dante’s House, I’ll put you on the guest list!” she purrs.

We leave him grinning like an idiot and for once, he only eyes one of us instead of all of us.



The second we are out of his view she mimes puking.

“Yeah, he’ll be on the guest list, just below my boyfriend, who will most likely snap him in two. Ewww! Let’s just hope this chick can play!”

I punch in the number and hope. It rings three times and a very pleasant voice answers.

“Hallo! Wie is dit?..Wait. I am sorry, who is this please?”

“Hi! My name is Kayla, and I play guitar for a band called the Pastels. Our bass player quit on us and we have a big show on Friday night. Khaos said you might be able to help us out and he said you were pretty good.”

“He is very nice, but he…looks at me funny. He said he does knows lots of bands though.” She spoke with a bit of accent, but it was charming. “What type of stuffs does your band play?”

“We play mostly 80’s new wave and pop stuff. Sometimes we play originals, but not this weekend.”

“Is, um, sorry, are you the only girl in the band?