**RINGGGGGGGGG**
Saul groaned as he was no closer in deciding who should drink the bottle, yet people were rushing out of class to go to where their next orgasm would be, since that was the apparent mission-statement of this school. Still sitting on the bench, he looked down and rubbed his temples, trying to resist the urge to drink this elixir again, when a familiar chest entered his vision.
“Oi mate! Why the long face? Did ya lose my number already?” The G-cups strained into a too-small black bikini top were talking to him.
Looking up into the cocky grin of Sahara, he felt his mood brighten. Such a cool girl would be perfect for this elixir, “Sorry Sahara, I had this difficult choice but now it doesn't seem so hard!”
“Really? What changed?” She sat down on the bench beside, “Was it the fuckin' coolest lady in the world sitting beside you?”
“Kind of...” He gave her a wink, “I was just wondering what to use this drink for. I need something to celebrate...”
Sahara swung her body back and forth, no doubt thinking of one of her songs, “Oh I have an idea what to celebrate yeah?”
“What?”
“Well, I was thinkin' about the effect ya have on girls here at school... If our band wants to be serious about touring and becomin' big and shite, we are going to need something big to bring 'em in yeah? Would you like to be our manager/hype man?” She put her hand on his knee.
“Really? But I mean shouldn't you get someone in the industry or something?”
“Fuck no... Punk is all about fuckin' the man and we need a sexy outsider... You wouldn't cramp our style would you Saul?” She raised a naughty eyebrow.
“Not at all! In fact...” He popped the bottle of seemingly magic liquid, “Why don't we drink to the Rock Cocks right now. A toast to the future best band since The Clash...”
“Good choice in examples Boyo!” She ripped the bottle from his hand and took a sip, “Drinking in school like a bad-ass, you are already the best manager we have ever had!”
He nodded, “I know right? Now I want you think about something... Desire that you are-” He stopped as everything started to melt yet again. He sighed as light disappeared from his world as if heaven had turned on a vacuum cleaner and was sucking up anything which would give him a sense of what was happening to the world.
---
“Oi... Saul!”
I swear if I am back in that silly locker room again...
“Wake the fuck up ya ninny!”
I really hope that's water they are pouring on my face...
Clearing his throat and wiping his face, he opened his eyes to see Sahara and one of her boys from the band was looking down on him.
The man just wiped his forehead, “Oh thank Jesus you ain't dead! Got a rather nasty hit on your noggin by some some clutz.”
“Yeah that name is John!” Sahara poked her band-mate in the chest, “And you are a bloody idiot! Watch where you are swinging that bag!”
Grumbling, he got back to unpacking the van which Saul was apparently leaning against on his butt. He hoped to hell Sahara would have some answers for him, “What the hell happened?”
She leaned in close, “Something pretty awesome actually! I drank that bloody liquor and suddenly I was in fucking London! Like I had always dreamed of! And within a few seconds my band-mates were with me to bring the revolution to this country! You came too, but you were already unconscious for some reason... John just said he knocked you out, but knowing how weird this situation is, I didn't believe him.”
“Yeah its quite a weird drink isn't it?”
Shrugging, she thought back, “Meh I didn't find it that awful a taste. Perhaps it was a bit old?” Apparently she didn't connect drinking the P.L. drink and currently being in London, “Anyways come on... We are apparently already late for this next show we are doing...”
Saul weakly got to his feet and looked inside the back of the van, which was half-way full of rock-band equipment. He shrugged, “So you wanted to be popular band pretty badly, huh?”
As she picked up a large suitcase, she shook her head, “Not popular Saul... Fuckin' revolutionary! We are going to show this country what rock really is!”
Thinking back to the Beatles, David Bowie, Queen, the Clash, the Arctic Monkeys, etc, he weakly shrugged, “Um any plan how to do that? I mean I think one thing the UK has under control is how to make good music...”
“But Saul!” Sahara shot him a look as if he was crazy, “No band has created the sexual revolution which we plan to start! Freedom to enjoy sex how eva the 'ell ya want it!”
“Well as long as you have a plan...” Saul said picking up a handle to some kind of case himself.
“This is why you are our manager, Mr. Manager!” Her smile returned, “Trying to keep our feet on the ground while we try to fly! But don't worry, we have this allllll planned out!”
Getting all the equipment by the back door, Saul finally had a good chance to look over the group. Obviously, redhead Sahara was their fearless lead singer, her ripped green combat jeans, leather jacket and black bikini top got across the group's look for a sexual rock revolution. John, who he had briefly met, was a skinny blonde guy with his hair slicked back, decked out in a spiked leather jacket, and ratty jeans with big boots, he was clearly the band's guitar bad-boy. Next to him, leaned a chubby blonde-with-pink lass with an enormous rack. Leopard bra showing, and her body covered in tattoos, she had the aura of a bass player who didn't take shit from no one. This was especially made clear with her ripped mini-dress which declared in blood, Don't Fuck with Me!. Finally, behind Sahara stood their punk drummer, a mostly hairless woman with only a crazy pink Mohawk proudly sticking from her head. Her tiny form just made her big breasts burst from her tiny pink tube-top, and she was rocking her pink leggings like a pro.
Before they could say a thing, Sahara gave another good hard knock on the door, “C'mon now! We don't have all day!” She took another inhale from her cigarette.
Hearing a very audible lock be freed, an older blonde woman stuck her head out and scowled at the dirty looking group, “I don't know why you are here... But you obviously have the wrong place...”
Blowing smoke in the woman's face, Sahara smiled, “Alright you wench... You might not recognize or fear us... But we are the Rock Cocks and we are here to play. Move aside yeah?”
The woman's jaw dropped in the face of this young woman's rudeness, “Why I never-”
Not missing a beat, Saul watched Sahara close the distance between herself and the blustered older woman, and seemingly whisper something into her ear. He was prepared to step in so Sahara wouldn't receive a good slap, but to everyone's shock but Sahara's, the woman just smiled.
“Oh oui oui Mademoiselle Sahara! Comment pourrais-je vous oublier?! Entre entre!” The woman's smile was now so wide it looked like it hurt.
In about one second, this woman went from talking with an overly-proper London accent to speaking French. Saul tried to figure out what was happening as he helped the group carry their things inside. Placing the last case inside this dull hallway, he spun around to see the older woman now wearing a fetish French-maid costume dusting off any dust from the group's equipment, “Excusez mon impolitesse, maîtresse!”
Sahara just grinned, “I just sung a little from our title about sexy little French girls... It seems my lyrics are a bit more powerful than I thought, eh?”
The rest of the group just nodded like she told them she had ten toes. The chubby bassist's evil grin grew larger, “Fuck off that is always amazing to see!”
Saul just pointed at the submissive servant, “Wait... So you did this by saying some lyrics?... Cool!”
“Stick with me mate!” Sahara slapped his back, “Just wait until we play our set here!”
“Uh Sahara? Be honest...” Saul held her back as the crew plus a sexy maid carried the equipment, “We weren't invited here were we?”
She laughed, “Well of course fucking not! Real punk in the 21st century is not about getting gigs... Its about bringing the punk to the people and waking them the fuck up... to fuck!”
“So... Do you have any idea where we are?”
She looked around the insides of this place, “Maybe the back of some conference center? I don't know, but I do know there will be people to listen to our music yeah? Maybe we will luck out and it will be something exciting going on here!”
-----
“-And as we all know. The commission's domestic like product and domestic industry determinations in the original final investigations concerning PC strand from Brazil, France, and the United Kingdom were the same as its determination in the investigation concerning PC strand from Spain. Moving over to-”
Tom knew that the Concrete Industry wasn't the sexiest issue to talk about, but the simple fact was that the new comers to the profitable domestic industry tended to skim over the very basics to try to get a bigger piece of the pie. Despite the lack of interest from the audience of about 200 industrialists, he knew what he was doing was important.
“Who the fuck is ready to rock?!” A voice came over the sound system, no doubt causing some of the older gentlemen to have a damned heart attack.
Treating the small stage like they were entering a cheering Colosseum, the group ran onto the stage and bumped the shocked mustached man to the ground. John clapped his hands, “Yeah... I feel this place needs the Rock Cocks bad!”
Sahara took the mic, “Testing testing! Mother fucking 1...2...3...”
The floored Tom just grumbled, “What the devil is this?! Never in all my year of public speaking have I-”
“Who the fuck let this cunt in? I mean what is, like 100? Jeeze hold on!” As the drummer tried to get the audience out of shock by shaking her big breasts and clapping, Sahara whispered a little tune into the nearly bald man's head and she just grinned as she saw his frown fade.
“Now... A few things we have to make clear here. I have instructed our new french slut... Who I will call... Uh... Shit give me a French name Viola!”
The bassist just shrugged, “Fleur?”
“So Fleur has already locked the doors to the place to make sure that you good folks will take your Rock medicine without pissing off.”
A fat redheaded woman stood up and whined, “You can't do this to us! We know people!”
“And what the hell did you do to Mr. Dyer?” Another man yelled out, pointing out how the man was writhing the floor, body clearing changing.
“First of all, shut the fuck up if you are going to be bitchy! Second... I just gave Mr. Dyer a taste of one of our many hits, 'Jailbait Fan'”
Jumping back to his feet, Mr. Dyer smiled brightly, “Oh my Gawd Sahara! I can't believe its you! Can you sign my breasts?” The disturbing scene of an old man asking for that ended quickly thankfully as she quickly shrunk in height, weight and age, and before anyone could blink a second time, Mr. Dyer was replaced by a young bright eyed 16-year old girl, long black hair pulled into pigtails, and punk slut wear of a ripped black tank top and jean shorts added to her naughty look.
Immediately the crowd screamed in fear and ran towards the doors, banging on them fruitlessly, as Fleur had done a fine job locking them from the outside.
Sahara turned to Saul, “Look this is our first gig and it needs to be fantastic. Me, John, Viola and Maisie are all looking to score big here, but we need an outsider to tell us which song to open with... here...” She pulled a song list from her cleavage and gave it to him, “Just pick one quickly and we will launch right into it.”
The thought of having the choice of changing the people was just the rush Saul was looking to have again. Even better the song titles made it abundantly clear what would happen the second she started to sing into her microphone.
Thu Nov 19 15:42:01 2015
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