BotB: Wheee!

[Truce]

ooc-Flashback scene courtesy of Mr. V. Also, it came late because I had unexpectedly gone to the movies.

It was raining that evening, the last night of the month. The band known as the Thumpmastas were inside their rented oldskool aircraft hangar (like the one in Tony Hawk 2) at a complex for the band to practice at. Blyr (AKA Thumpman) was sitting at a desk looking through the bills they had, fairly confident. Although the band had no official 'leader,' the media, fans, and pretty much everyone else treated Thumpman as the leader. They didn't have any agent, as Thumpman took care of the finances and such.

Thumpman picked up a notice from the mail. "Hmm...seems this'll be our last day here unless we pay our dues." The Thumpmastas were very successful, all their members wealthy to a certain degree. Nobody should be complaining, but that's when the door flew open. Thumpman looked up. "Hey, Ripel! You've been singin' very well today! I should be out there practicing my vocals with the band, but I'm tied up here. It's the last day of the month, and we gotta pay the bills. I'll pay half, since I live here and all, but do you think the rest of you could pay the rest?"

Ripel slammed his fists on the Thumpman's desk, startling him. "I QUIT!"

"What? Why'd you want to do that?" Thumpman said in a very startled tone, nearly falling out of his chair.

"Look, I'm tired of being in your shadow all the time! I'm going to go solo. The rest of the band has left, too. We're all sick of you!" He slammed the door on his way out. After the door slammed, Thumpman noticed a letter from Dezil on the ground next to the doorway. He opened it, and read it. "So, that explains why he hasn't shown up in a week...he's been inventing again...looks like Ripel was right...."

Thumpman got up and checked inside the hangar. All that was left was his escalade (dubbed the Thumpmobile by his fans), his boombox, and his other DJing equipment, along with the rest of his possesions and the old aircraft the landlord left there; all of the drums, guitars, amps, and everything else that belonged to the rest of the band was gone. The large hangar door was open, and Thumpman could see the thunder and lightning with drizzles of merciless rain come down as he saw Ripel drive off. He sighed. "Well, looks like I'm back to where I started." He walked back into his office and saw the picture of his 7-man band posing for the local Street Football Championship photo, Ripel holding the trophy while the rest of the band held him up. He glanced at another picture on the wall, where the band was first formed. Another showed the band at the Grammy awards for Best Album. He only sighed with grief. "Was it really my ego that did this?" the sad man said to himself; he was probably the most humble DJ out there, so he was truly surprised.

He stepped outside in the rain and started walking around the neighborhood. Already he could hear from various car radios that his band has broken up. News crews were heading towards the hangar, and if it wasn't such a dark night, they would've saw him and pulled over. "I never like the media that much."

He turned into an alley. What he saw didn't surprise him: three gangsters with knives were trying to steal a purse form a young woman. "Hey, you guys! Leave her alone!" he shouted into the alleyway.

"And what if we don't, mutha F*****?!" one yelled back. Thumpman slowly approached, and waited for the iminent attack. The first thug thrust his knife at him, and Thumpman responded by dodging to the side while grabbing his his arm. He threw him into another of the gangsters, who was holding the woman hostage next to a dumpster; both didn't enjoy making a big dent ion the large trash container. The third, apparently the chicken of the bunch, bolted. "Not so fast!" Thumpman yelled as he caught the man in a flying tackle, a move he learned while playing football. He knocked him out with a blow to the head, and started to walk away, not expecting any thanks form the woman he saved.

"Err...thank you!" The woman called at him as he walked out of the alley. Thumpman flashed a thumbs up signal at her while turning his head and smiling as he turned out of the alley.

"With the battle of the bands coming in a few weeks, how can I compete without a band? Oh, well....I'll find a way."

It's been a month since then. This is where the story of the Battle of the Bands begins.

* * *

Since the break up of the Thumpmastas life has been somewhat tense at Tristra for the former members as well as any other musician. The media got so focused over the former Thumpmasters that everything they did was critisized, and noone really paid any attention to any other musicians.

However, today was different for some reason. The entire city seemed to be joyful and generous, in fact all musical artists in the area had decided to put on a spontaneous charity show for the local children's hospital. All seemed right in the world.

Of course, that was before the ARMY OF SIX HUNDRED EVIL VENDING MACHINES OF DOOM!!! popped up in the middle of the stadium where they were playing and started terrorizing the populace by shooting cans of Diet Coke at them, eating their dollars, and all around bad stuff.

Solo only had one thing to say when he saw all this going on. "Dammit, they don't have Pepsi!"

Oh, what are they going to do? If they weren't stopped here and now they might escape, wreak havoc on the whole city, and eat our change! Heroes are needed.