Date: Tue, 13 May 1997 01:27:35 -0400 (EDT)

From: Jason Tracer / Electric Keet <tracerj@cat.net>

Subject: SRU: I'm Here To Bring You The Music









This is one part response to the thread about 'Is the old man evil?', one

part gratuitous personal transformation (but a very SMALL part), one part

sheameless advertising, one part... uh... well, just read it.  I hope it's

well-enjoyed.  (And if people think it's fitting.. well, not to stroke my

own ego, but perhaps this is one for the Archive?)



Oh, and any resemblance of the people in this story to anyone living is

almost certainly intentional, but not to cause any harm.  ;)



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm Here To Bring You The Music



a story by Jason Tracer, set in the Spells 'R' Us universe





I grumbled, and invented a few choice words on the spot for whoever

was seated at that blasted electronic organ.  The pathetically weak

synthetic percussion, and the slushy harmonies of old songs, mangled

by the withered old woman seated precariously at the keys... it was

enough to turn my stomach, especially in my current sour mood.  The

only positive aspect of the mind-numbing emanations of the home organ

was that it had led me to notice the name of the store.  Tune Town.

According to the smartly illuminated kiosk before me, I was headed in

the correct direction to find Electro Wave, the store I really wanted

to be at.



I checked my watch.  15h30.  An hour and a half before the bash.  I

was free to browse the mall for a short while.  I glanced at the map

again, to check the location of the Realm O' Software, but taped

neatly below the name of the familiar computer shop was a much more

intriguing prospect... Spells 'R' Us.  < A blatant nose-thumbing at a

mega-corporation, that's a bonus, > I thought.  Directly ahead, to

the left.  Out of earshot of Granny's murdering of the ivories.  I

had to get there before my brain melted.



As I entered the singularly unique store, three things became readily

apparent.  The owner was in the back, rummaging through the stock....

The place had the aura of being timelessly ancient, reminiscent of a

the little shop in the movie _Gremlins_....  And amongst the assorted

antiques and bric-a-brac and odds-and-ends, there stood a rack

containing a motley collection of dusty old vinyls, eight-tracks,

cassettes, and even early compact discs.  To the average consumer, it

was junk, but to me, an architect of sound, it was heaven-sent!  I

almost literally dove in, poking through the collection, noting some

obscure and some recent albums alike.  And, by amazing luck, the

compact discs included none other than my very first released album.

I pulled it out, and stared at it intensely.  It was a sign, for

certain.



The jewel case caught the reflection of the back room, out of which

approached a frazzled, wiry fellow who appeared to be in his

seventies, but rather vital, for that.  He stared at me briefly, and

opened his mouth to speak, but I held up the case and pointed to it.

"If I were the sort to indirectly pat myself on the back, I'd say you

have excellent taste in music, my good man!"



He grinned impishly, and waddled closer, nearly catching a fold of

his bathrobe (!) on one of the shelves.  "What can I help you with

today, Jason?"



I blinked.  He must have recognized me from the picture in one of the

other albums.  That meant he had more than one.  That meant he was

not just familiar with my music, but that he actually _liked_ it, to

buy a second disc.  My heart jumped.  "Oh, I'm just browsing, really,

for a moment...  I ought to be heading over to Electro Wave, to buy a

new stereo system.  I'm having a listening party, tonight, for the

release of my fifth album, but my stereo's frotzed...."  I trailed

off, remembering the soggy mess my best friend brought back to me.  I

had taken it, and tilted it slowly, and water sloshed around inside

each of the components.  It had been rained on.  I had pondered

reducing the town's population by one, this afternoon, but since he'd

paid me in excess for the damaged equipment....



"Today, my friend, you have incredibly good luck," spouted the man,

completely contradicting my train of thought.  "Just one second."  He

scampered into the back room again, leaving me to wonder at the name

of the store.  There were several odd toys and masks and lawn

decorations, and even an eclectic collection of music for sale, but

what did any of it have to do with spells?  "Say, mister..." I

shouted, waiting to get a last name for a response.  Hearing none, I

simply continued.  "Why are you selling this disc anyhow?"



He yelled from the back room, to my delight, "Good music is meant to

be shared.  Not too many of that album around anymore, eh?"  The

compliment alone was worth encouraging some friends to visit the

place sometime.  This guy had excellent taste _and_ respect for

music.  As he exited the stockroom, it appeared as though he also had

a complete stereo system in his arms.  "Here we go," he puffed, as he

heaved it onto the counter.



"Why, in the name of Dobbs, do you have _this_ amongst everything

else here?"



"You're familiar with how small retail works.  You get the wrong

shipment, it's expensive to return it, you send payment instead and

hope you can sell the thing."  He patted the top of it.  "Nothing

real fancy, but it's got good sound, I've been using it in the back.

Music helps inventory go much faster, you know.  It's in excellent

condition, I still have the original carton, even.  Nice boomer box,

eh?"



"Don't you mean, _boom box?_"  He nodded, slightly amused.



As he watched, I examined it slowly.  It wasn't the newest model, no,

but it did what it needed to...  it would connect to my good

speakers, it had a decent CD player, and a graphic equalizer...

seven settings, but one that seemed odd.  There were 2K, and 5K, and

10K, but to the right of those, there was one marked with only a K.

I started to ask about it, but he interrupted.



"It's been a while since your last album," he piped in.



Wow, this guy was a collector!  "Well, yeah, it has been....  Hard to

get proper inspiration, now.  It seems as if I'm missing something.

Something major, something primal.  I can't quite place it."



"Well, I wish you luck," he remarked with a wry grin.  "So, since

it's slightly used, I offer it to you for.... sixty dollars.  Sound

good?"



I had been expecting to drop two hundred at Electro Wave.  "Sounds

excellent to me!"



He tapped the yellowed keys of the aged cash register.  "And you know

sound, eh?"  A smile.  I returned it.  I handed over three green

Jacksons.  I was saved for the listening party.



I nodded my thanks, and he waved me off.  I made a note of where the

store was in the mall, just up from Tune Town.  I would definitely be

returning, soon.



*   *   *



I had just gotten the new system connected up properly, when my first

guests arrived.  "Tony, Mike!  Hey there, how goes?"



"Well, okay...  I see you got yourself a new stereo system, there."



I shrugged.  "The guy I lent the other one to, Sam?  Would you

believe, he left it outside for some bizarre reason, and it got

zorched in the rainstorm last night?"



Mike chuckled.  "I guess that means your parade was rained on, huh?"



"Yeah," Tony agreed, "too much singin' in the rain."



Mike laughed with Tony, and parried with, "His new album's all wet."



I shook my head, and turned around to adjust the equalizer, when I

got another knock at the door.  It was Ingrid.  Then there were Eric,

and Erin.  And Brad.  And a dozen other people, good friends who'd

been to every album-release-listening-party I'd had.  By time they'd

all arrived, I'd adjusted the stereo properly, and they were all

seated or standing, ready to listen.



I hit Play.



It was wonderful.



Even from the first notes, they were entranced.  Even I was a bit

startled by the clarity of the sound I was getting from the 'nothing

special' stereo system.  It all seemed richer, and deeper, and the

music surrounded the room.  The second and third tracks were even

better, enhanced by the new stereo....  but there was still that

missing part, that feeling that no stereo could inject.  I'd

forgotten something, when composing it.  What facet of music had I

overlooked?  I desperately listened for it, throughout the album.



I stared at the charcoal grey box.  I realized that, in my distracted

hurry with my guests pouring in, I'd not taken the time to experiment

with the final equalizer setting, the one simply marked 'K'.  I

walked over, and just before the final track began, I flipped the

lever from its resting bottom position to the center mark.



All eighteen guests watched on in dumbstruck awe, as I gagged and

writhed on the floor, my body rearranging itself and shifting.  As I

made my best attempt to scream for help, they gawked at me, my form

altering more rapidly with every downbeat of the final track of the

disc.  As the final notes rang out, I collapsed from the seizure of

metamorphosis.



I stood up wearily, and looked at them all, one at a time, directly

in the eyes...  they shifted around nervously for a few seconds, and

then in unison, began to applaud.  From the assembled music lovers

came a collective exclamation of "Cool!"  My fifth album, "Kangaroo

Dreams", had come to an end, and they loved it.  I had become a

kangaroo, and they didn't even notice.  They congratulated me, and

shook my paw, and patted me on the back, and filed out of the

apartment, chattering about the disc they'd just heard.  It was as if

it was perfectly normal, to them, for me to mutate into this form!



I flexed my toes, and peered at my watch.  18h45.  I had fifteen

minutes to get back to that shop, and ask that old man just what in

hell was going on.



*   *   *



I thumped to a stop, panting hard.  I had to literally hop the entire

way to the mall, and through it to Spells 'R' Us.  The old man was

about to pull down the storefront cage, but he paused to look at me.

"Technical difficulties?"



I clawed at the metal bars.  "What in *HELL* is going on?!"



He grinned nonchalantly.  "How did the listening party go, Jason?

Did you enjoy the boomer box?"



He pulled away from the cage just in time for me to yank it back up,

shouting at him.  "It went just fine.  Best yet.  Except now, I

look...  like...  this!"  I motioned to my own chest.  "What have you

done to me?"



"I've given you material for your sixth album."  His deep eyes met my

piercing gaze.  "Here, I'll show you clearly, since your generation

has such a difficult time understanding simple things."



He walked out of the store, and stood next to me, facing the other

end of the mall.  It was a long stretch.  "Start hopping."



"Excuse me?"



"Go.  If you want to find out why you are a kangaroo, _go_."



I gave him the best 'death to you' look I could muster, which I'm

certain looked absolutely laughable coming from a 'roo, and then

faced the far end of the mall.  I took off, bounding at a moderate

clip.  The store-owner was actually running beside me, keeping pace!

"Do you hear it?"



All I heard was his voice, and the soft *thump* of my own feet on the

hard floor of the building.  "Hear what?"  I sped up, to a speed I

knew not even an Olympic sprinter could match.



When the man caught up to me, he was a kangaroo also, his robe

flapping wildly behind him.  "Do you *hear* it?"



"What?" I screamed, with only a dozen hops left before the end of the

mall would be reached....  But at that moment, the mall seemed to

evaporate into an endless desert-like landscape, the Australian

plains.  



In perfect synchronization, the pounding of our feet against the

ground started to evolve and take on new dimensions...  a complex but

deeply rooted rhythm, and strange instruments, and an orchestra of

sounds I'd heard but never really thought about.  The percussion of

the heart.  The deep, brassy drone of the world in motion.  The

slowly turning timbres of the flora, and the wild, macabre melodies

of the fauna....  I lost myself in it all, bounding madly to the

primal beat, immersing myself in the very life of the planet.  I

could live this.  I could hear the world....



Suddenly, all too soon, we were in the mall again, going in the

opposite direction, slowing down.  As I halted in front of Spells 'R'

Us, the old man in the bathrobe walked up to me, grinned, and put his

hand on my furry shoulder.  "You can stay like this if you want to.

Nobody will notice or care that you are a kangaroo, but they will

hear the difference from now on."



I simply looked him in the eyes.  "Thank you."



He waved as I slowly hopped out of the building.  Just as the doors

were closing behind me, I heard him shout, "I'm looking forward to

your next album!" and then he laughed heartily.



So was I.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope y'all don't mind that I took the liberty of letting the old man

change himself, briefly, for once...  his magic would seem to be just as

easily used on himself, for the total effect...?



Comments?  Flames?  Spare change?  Toss 'em to me personally.  ;)



(And that first album really does exist, there are only 18 copies so far,

and I'm gonna make more, so buy 'em.  ;)



 \\  Jason Tracer  -  tracerj@cat.net  -  http://cat.net/~tracerj/

  \\ Pastor "Macho" Sandwich  -  fully ordained SubGenius minister

  // Jason-Roo  -  the one and only grey ice-kangaroo on FurryMUCK

 //  Electric Keet - musician/composer of MOD, S3M, and IT modules