Wackos to Obliterate: Book Two (Chapter 13)

keniza (43)in #fiction • 6 years ago (edited)

“Now it’s made the TV news,” Chelsea called out to Brad and Trink in the next room comparing the designs of package labels Tinker Bell had laid out on the dining table.

“No shit,” Trink said. “I guess that means a few calls from media outlets are going to be coming down the pike.”

“Not to mention contact from your old record label. Are you sure Madelyn hasn’t heard anything from them?” Brad asked, looking up from the table.

“That’s what she said.”

“Either she’s the worst manager ever, or she’s bullshitting you. I’m sure it’s the latter.”

“No it’s I who’s bullshitting you. Of course, they’ve tried to work out a deal, but she refused because we’re totally committed to your plan.”

Brad stared at Trink standing to the right of his wheelchair. “You know, a decision about band personnel has to be made as soon as possible.”

“What band?”

Brad watched Chelsea enter the room. “You need to make peace with Sophie. Once that’s done, then everything will fall into place.”

Trink watched Chelsea walk behind Brad and place her hands on both sides of his face, lean over and give him a kiss on top of his bald head. He said, “I’m not sure about that.”

Regardless of what he said to Brad, Trink sent an email to Sophie and Karl responded.

“It’s currently Number 8 on the charts,” Karl wrote. “Mom’s pretty psyched about it. I think something can be done once it’s necessary.”

“That time has come, hasn’t it?” Madelyn said after Trink showed her Karl’s response.

Trink shook his head in agreement. “Set up an interview and I’m sure we’ll get someone to show up.”

“We’ve got you and ‘The Kid.’”

“And our manager; that should be enough for now,” Trink said.

The first query was from the most popular late-night TV show. Of course, not only did the producer tell Madelyn they wanted the song performed on air, but they wanted to devote one episode, or at least a majority of it, to the group.

“The whole story － you know the early years, the heyday, your first breakup, the legal battles, the cat fights; the whole friggin’ nine yards,” the high-pitched voice, who called introduced himself as Blain, said in a Gatling-gun style.

Madelyn knew she needed to go through this negotiation with Brad and Trink in attendance. “Call me back in half an hour and we’ll do a conference call with the producer and Trink Mars, the founding member of the group.”

“Your husband, right?” Gatling-gun voice spat out.

“I don’t know if you could say that in your home state,” Maddie replied.

After the call, the four of them (TMBC) were seated in the dining room with the packaging labels still covering it. Brad began to circle the wagons. “Get on your phones to the other members and get a commitment up or down. As a former POTUS said, ‘either you’re with us or against…’ Hesitation equals ‘against.’”

“Where are we going to get replacements if need be?” Madelyn asked.

Brad stared at her with an expression of mock amazement. “Are you really a manager? Think about it for five seconds,” he paused for the requisite number of seconds. “Okay, what’s the answer?”

“The Diamond Dogs.”

“Not rocket science, eh?” Brad said through the type of grin that a stereotypical kung-fu master in some crappy, low-budget movie would display when a student attained a new level of skill.

“Obviously, the other band members must be ready to kill ‘The Kid’ since the song he moonlighted on is burning up the charts,” Trink said.

“As a result, they would jump at the chance to be brought in as well,” Brad added.

“So, in ways, it may be best if the original members refuse?” Chelsea asked.

“It would certainly eliminate the mind games we went through the last time,” Madelyn said, looking down at the cell phone in her hand.

“For a week or two maybe; at least, we’d get over this hurtle,” Brad said as he noticed the clock on the wall displayed only twenty minutes remaining before the conference call. “You two try to get through to the others. Chelsea and I’ll set up the TV and its webcam so we can do it in the living room.”

First, Trink called Ryuji who promptly agreed. Next, he called the number Karl had given him for Sophie, but got a recorded message. He then emailed Karl, who luckily was online and sent a response back a couple of minutes later.

“She’s at work. Don’t worry, she’ll do it,” he wrote. Meanwhile, Madelyn contacted Diamond who readily agreed. She hesitated for a second or two for some reason and then called the mobile number Nils gave Trink.

“I was wondering when someone would finally make contact. According to the Net last night, it made it to the Top-10,” Nils said.

“At Number 8, I think. Anyway, I need an immediate response since we’ve got a TV exec who wants an answer in ten minutes. Can you do it?”

“When?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but probably the show will air next week at the latest.”

“You shitting me, Maddie?” Nils said. Just then, her phone started to indicate that she had an incoming call.

“I need to know, now. He’s ringing!” she shouted.

“I don’t know, this is too abrupt.”

“Brad said, ‘hesitation is a no,’” she said quickly. “I’ve got to know now!”

“Don’t push me …” he started to say, but she hung up.

“Okay, we’re ready to make the call. Just let me get my phone plugged in and we’ll see if we are good to go,” she said over the phone as she walked into the living room and took the connection cord from Chelsea and plugged it into her phone.

The TV exposure was a phenomenal push. Within a week, the song was poised at toppling #1! Since the band was scattered around the country, Madelyn thought it best to consolidate the members; at least, for the next month or two. Apart from Trink and the members of the Diamond Dogs, Ryuji had the most flexible schedule since Malcolm could make due by hiring a temporary worker to help out in the photography studio. Sophie had a little more difficulty, but the court trials she was working on were wrapping up. There was a state-wide association of court reporters with a membership database, which made it easy to contact a few freelancers to handle future trials. This last point rather unnerved her since she felt uneasy someone may be able to squeeze her out of the niche she made for herself.

The biggest problem, of course, was the venue that was best for the band. Neverland was not really an option. It was too far from major media outlets, so the ideal location would be New York or L.A. Luckily, Marden had been working on a solution for this pretty much since the outset. He was able to get Summit Records to lease several apartments in and around L.A., so everyone converged on Southern California for the time being.

One of the biggest problems Brad thought may develop was a growing animosity between the Dogs since only two of the four members were moonlighting in the TRinkets. To keep unity in the group, Brad decided to bring the whole “Dog Pack” to L.A. and arrange a few gigs the Diamond Dogs could play around town. He rationalized that this should not only kept negative energy from building, but it could help hone their skills as musicians, get them more comfortable playing in public, and even create a little buzz for the main band by exposing some of the musicians to the public. It might even keep the young kids out of trouble by staying active. Besides Diamond, Bowen, the drummer, was the other moonlighter. Neither played essential rolls in the TRinket creative process, so the kill time was great; therefore, having the whole band in L.A. gave them both the opportunity to keep busy and further develop their own band. All in all, that seemed to be a win-win.

With the non-essential members pretty much squared away, most of the focus needed to be placed on how to keep the ill feeling between the other three from imploding the whole venture. With both the national and even international exposure, the longer Marden could keep the group together; the greater the chance there was to bust open the issue of legalization worldwide.

Currently, the group had only one song in their repertoire. That was fine for the occasional TV appearance or internet video clip, but they needed more material for rallies and concerts. One good outcome of the long slough of litigation the original group endured was Trink and Maddie retained the copyright over the group’s name. As a result, they were able to perform as the TRinkets with any lineup as long as Trink and at least one other original member were in the lineup. If the Sophie problem blew up again, they could still perform as the Trinkets if Ryuji stayed in the lineup. If Ryuji left with Sophie, they were screwed. The main problem was the performance of old songs. If either Trink or Sophie would not give consent, then a song could not be played in a public venue unless Ryuji or Barry was listed as a co-author. Therefore, they had to guarantee that Sophie chose to stay in the group. Even so, without new material, the revival of the band would eventually revert back to a nostalgia-tour-type situation and the new media focus would vanish. All in all, the best thing for them was to have a few new songs to perform. Brad made sure that any new material could be performed by any of the members of the new lineup as long as they were under contract with Summit Records.

“I’ve got a rough outline of another song I wrote around the same time I worked on ‘Sensibowl,’” Ryuji said in the conference call Trink, Maddie, Sophie, and Chelsea were having with Brad; he was in Neverland while they sat in a conference room at Summit’s head office off Sunset Boulevard.

“And there’s a really good reason we didn’t record it,” Sophie added.

“Which was?” Chelsea asked.

Ryuji looked at Chelsea and said, “It sucks.”

“Then why did you bring it up?” Brad asked. Madelyn started giggling. “What is it?”

“Trink could always put together his collection of love ballads,” she said.

Trink looked at her and frowned. “Don’t go there, Maddie.”

“Good or not, we’re not in the market. I think the market is pretty saturated with that genre,” Brad said from his wheelchair situated in the middle of his living room.

“Not with these it isn’t,” she added, looking at Trink and giving him a wink.

“I don’t think we want to get into other issues yet; let’s focus on cannabis,” Chelsea said, avoiding eye contact, seemingly worried that she might upset Maddie and Trink by not wanting to support their sexual orientation.

Maddie smirked. “More like interspecies, I’d say.”

“Oh yeah, now I remember,” Ryuji said, looking at Trink and then Maddie. “Limey.”

Maddie winked at Trink. “Do you think Emily’s feeding her with a spoon while we’re away?”

Trink looked at the camera. “Let’s just hope she’s not porking somebody else while Diamond’s away.”

“Two can play at that game. What I’ve heard, the ‘Dog Pack’ has been pretty active roaming the hills of L.A.” Sophie said.

“More like the Strip, I’d say,” Ryuji added.

“Okay, okay … back to the topic at hand. If you can’t come up with the core for three new songs by this weekend, we may be forced to utilize some contracted material,” threatened the old man in the chair on wheels.

#writing #cannabis #novel #music

6 years ago in #fiction by keniza (43)

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