Turn 1
Amanda Halle wouldn’t even have
considered going out this evening, but it was the Boston Pops, and her brother,
Anthony, had arranged for her and her father, Robert, to have dinner
with Keith Lockhart and many of the musicians before the
performance. She wasn’t about to turn down this invitation. “But
Amanda, where’s the trashcans and brooms?” Robert chided. Three
months after Amanda had dragged him to Stomp, he still kidded her
about liking it more than she did…and it had been her idea to go! |
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Turn 1
Strains of Tchaikovsky
filled the elegant manor home of William Eric Payne, KBE, OBE.
Tehsin Syed, his loyal batman, entered the master’s library with a
snifter of Cognac. Sir William looked up from his typing to accept
the Remy Martin ($1400 per bottle, of course) with a gracious thank
you. Tehsin nodded and spoke quietly. |
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Turn 1
“There’s something in the air
tonight, Tehsin.”
“Phil Collins,
1981, “Face Value” album.”
“No, no, I wasn’t trying to quiz
you there. I’ve a feeling of something imminent.
Ah. Must be
the deadline for this script.” Sir William absently opened and
closed his pocket watch. “Must be.” |
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Turn 2
Before Jake came back from the
Blades games, Josh had been listening to Ornette Coleman's "The Shape
of Jazz to Come." He had planned on riffing off portions of Charlie
Haden's bass lines from that album tonight at the Polo Restaurant at
the Hilton Suites before he had to turn down the gig because of the
anticipated work load at the office. |
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Turn 2
Just as "Sharp Dressed Man" came on the two
heard the sound of the front door to the office being smashed into
splinters. Always impulsive Jake made a break for it as Josh loaded
shells into the shotgun they keep in the back office. |
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Turn 9
She could. Did it just like that.
Speakes and the singer, the bearded Frenchman Alain had bemusedly
welcomed her into their new studio, seeming to humor her the whole
time. Ten minutes into the rehearsal, Speakes had called the rest of
the band in; the jam session lasted the better part of three hours.
Speakes had a contract in her hands as she left. "Pretty please,
with sugar on top, sign that damned thing," he had asked. She
couldn't help but giggle a bit; this was the same bass player who
tried to force-feed a particularly obnoxious brand of reporter a set
of Bartolini pickups, and reportedly tossed Henry Rollins through a Trace
stack at the 9:30 Club a few years back. |
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Turn 9
With a whistled chorus of "My Old Kentucky
Home" on her lips, Amanda Halle returned to Lexington. She did
some shopping before she left, though. No point in doing this secret
identity stuff unless you're going to do it right. Phoenix would
require a suitably dramatic image to go with the name. |
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Turn 10.5.1
"How's your painting?" his tapping
starts to shift into the bass lines from "If you don't know me by
now."
"It's going really well, actually. I've been in
some group shows and American Fine Arts is supposed to be giving me
a solo show two months from now."
"How's your music?"
"I have a few gigs with a few different bands every now and
then but it's turned mostly into playing alone at nights."
"It's been hard since I left the city. Running the family
business, helping Jake and Mom deal--it's all draining." The lyrics
to the song starts to emerge at a noticeable volume. |
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Turn 10.5.4
"Hours
slipping by as you watch/ The worlds collide..." _Weird._
Amanda collected her luggage and fought her way through the
crowds, where more than one collision with her bruises drew a wince.
She had to force herself to pay attention to where she was going,
preoccupied by the dream. Seemed that ever since New Years she'd
been doing nothing but sleep, and dreaming far more than usual. Some
kind of side effect, she supposed. |
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Turn 10.5.5
"I think I know what he means,
Carl," Mark answers. "We provide the sound, he makes it into
Thunderdome and spares us the death by a thousand cuts." With that,
Mark begins to whistle 'O
Canada'. |
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