http://ttlynotblue.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] ttlynotblue.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] paixaorpg 2010-06-08 04:16 am (UTC)

He really did have a habit of rambling. Genie buried his face in his hand in embarrassment before he shared an apologetic smile with Wolf. “Oh. Sorry about that! Good thing we caught that early on, I could have gone on forever. But, yes, he’s Meat Loaf Aday. There are a ton of stories behind the name, all of which are true to my knowledge, but I’m sure it was his father that called him Meat Loaf first. It’s not like it’s a bad name, I’ve heard far worse, but I’m glad I’m not him. I’d be hungry every time I heard my name. Not to mention the eerie feeling of seeing you’d get after seeing your name on the menu in a restaurant. Oooo! I’m getting goose bumps just thinking about it!” Genie literally shook to shake the feeling off.

Graciously he accepted the lemonade Wolf offered him and raised his glass, as though to silently toast him, before he went to take a sip. However, before a single drop could even touch his tongue he was forced to pull the glass away from his lips when he found Wolf pointing to the album in his hand. “Yes, this is their greatest, actually. They’re called Queen. They’re a British rock band originally formed in London back in ninety seventy one. They’re one of the most successful bands of all time! Freddie Mercury’s powerful four-octave range vocals will simply blow you away. You gotta hear it to believe it!” This reminded him of his original question. “Speaking of which, you don’t have anything to listen to it with, do you?” Genie placed his glass down and took a second glance around the room, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “No matter, we can take care of that.”

With only a simple snap of his fingers, a Phonograph appeared before Wolf’s eyes on the table nearest to them. Genie carefully slid the vinyl out of its sleeve and blew the dust from it. “Heh, I haven’t listened to this one for longer than I thought!” he commented while he placed it down and adjusted the needle over it. “Now let’s see, I know it’s near the end of the album…” Running his finger down the back of the sleeve over he stopped to tap on it. “Ah, here it is! Track number sixteen. Twiddling fingers over the Phonograph’s crank in anticipation he quickly turned it. What started as just stomping escaping the Phonograph’s horn was soon followed by chanting.

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