"No way, man, I thought they were Brits!"

"Way, dude. They were Brits. But their first record was in German." Danny grunted to signify that was settled. "Not only that, but it was recorded in Paris."

"France?"

"Is there any other?"

"Well, not any more there isn't." Carson chuckled. Danny nodded in agreement.

Colby shook his head. "Man, that Rishloo character ain't gonna like that much."

"Jeez, Colby, Rishloo was long gone when—" He was interrupted by an explosive sneeze from the drummer. " Gesundheit! Anyway, that guy was long dead before the Beatles came around."

Colby shrugged. "It sounds pretty weird, but if you say so . . . " He turned to the drummer. "Hey, Carson, you may want to wipe yourself off. You got a massive snoogee running down your shirt from that sneeze." He snorted a laugh as he pointed.

The drummer looked down to see the 'snoogee' oozing down his shirt. His cuff smeared it into the fabric.

"Good enough, dude." Colby snorted again.

"Nice," was all Danny could think to say.

They had all been learning German and so the lyrics were not much of a challenge, but the slow and steady beat was giving Carson fits. "There's no place in this song for me to really show my stuff."

Danny knew 'show my stuff' translated into 'bang on the drums in a mad frenzy.' And that was probably how his parents had agreed to let them practice in their basement—they had already become accustomed to the noise of his showing his stuff. And Colby was having a similar problem playing a steady rhythm.

"Do you guys really want to be musicians or are you so pigheaded you won't play anything but the heavy metal you love? Personally, I don't mind 'down-sizing' the rockness of the tunes so the locals can start to know us better. After that, we could ease them into the heavier stuff. You dig?"

"Yeah, but." Colby gestured helplessly. "C'mon, guys, I mean 'soft rock'? Really! I don't think I could stomach that."

"Know what you mean, dude. Can't stand to even listen to the stuff myself."

Danny threw his hands up in exasperation. Ever since the Ring of Fire had left them stranded in this world of minuets and dirges, the four of them were about the only heavy metal freaks around. Before that they always had friends in Barrackville, the record store in Fairmont, and the occasional concert at WVU in Morgantown.

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- The Grantville Gazette Staff