After the Energists: Rebooted Teen Years
Chapter 28: Bohemian Rhapsody

Copyright© 2014 by AL-Canadian

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 28: Bohemian Rhapsody - After helping the Energists with their transition to their new world and body orientation, Mike is given the opportunity to relive his life with the slim chance of returning to his previous timeline. This is how his second chance at living through high school turns out. If you haven't read the first two books in this series, you may not pickup on all the details and references in this story.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   mt/Fa   ft/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   True Story   School   Sports   Science Fiction   DoOver   Time Travel   Group Sex   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie   Double Penetration   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Safe Sex   Sex Toys   Squirting   Slow  

Samantha Labatt’s Guest House

9:35pm, Friday, February 23, 1979

“Hey, Mom,” I spoke into the telephone from the living room of the Labatt’s guest house. “Yes, Ma’am, we won 78-54.”... “If you must know, I scored seventeen points.”... “Yes, that IS the most I’ve scored in a game.”... “Thanks, Mom. Oh, before I forget, can Patt and I drive down to Sarnia, tomorrow morning to watch MaryAnn and Lynette’s volleyball game?”... “No, that’s alright, Mom, Samantha Labatt said she would come and get me, Paul and Cathy, and Patt, too, if he wants to ride with us.”... “Yes, Ma’am, she is one of those Labatt’s. She in our band, and she said it wouldn’t a problem to come get us.”... “Mom!” I whined out before adding, “Oh, alright, I’ll see if Samantha can get her dad to call you, and confirm this with him.”... “Yes, Ma’am, I’ll be home by midnight, twelve-thirty at the latest.”... “Yes, Ma’am, midnight is fine,” I dejectedly said before telling her good-bye.

“Ha, at least my parents aren’t the only ones, who need confirmation phone calls, still,” Cathy chuckled as she watched me put the telephone receiver back onto its base.

“What’s your number, Mike?” Sam asked as she set her Coke down on the coffee table and headed over to a wall panel by the kitchen sink. “I’ll use the intercom to get my dad, and have him call your mom as well as Paul’s parents.”

“Why do parents do this to us?” I rhetorically asked with exasperation dripping from my voice.

“Sammy, his number is 555-1108,” Paul called out to his red-headed girlfriend as she pressed the button on the intercom to get in touch with her father.

With all the parental permissions arranged, thirteen of my teenage friends and I enjoyed listening to some music as we waited on the various pizzas and other Italian pasta dishes, which were being delivered from Mario’s on Clarence Street. Jon and Andy Lunby joined Paul in putting on a hilarious, comedy routine when Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody came on the guest house’s Hi-Fi system. Paul theatrically moved about, pretending to be Queen’s Freddie Mercury, while the Lunby twins stood motionless behind him as his subtle backup singers.

All three guys scurried and danced around like penguins as the operatic portion of the song took off as Freddie Mercury sang:

I see a little silhouetto of a man.
Scaramouch, Scaramouch, will you do the fandango?
Thunderbolt and lightning, very, very frightening me.
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo Figaro – magnifico!

The guys perfectly timed their silly movements and pauses as they scuttled about the large living room area. The rest of us just about died with laughter as Paul and the twins artfully captured the folly of that part of the song.

I was equally impressed with the three guys as they transformed themselves from dancing penguins into hard ‘air-rockers’ when Queen transitioned into the angry, hard rock segment of Bohemian Rhapsody. Paul grabbed one of the wireless mics from the stand and gave a grand lip-syncing performance, while Jon and Andy played some mean air-guitars in the background. I even noticed that Cathy couldn’t sit still at the end of the couch and was firing off a wicked air-drum routine, too.

All three ‘hams’ took exaggerated bows and blew kisses towards us as we shouted our approval of that masterful improvisation. When I looked at Sammy, Jennifer and Cathy, all staring at me after the three guys reclaimed their pops (sodas-cokes, depending on your location in the world), I had a feeling they were all thinking that this might be a good song for us to learn and play. I simply raised my eyebrows in response to their non-verbal plea and hoped they’d realize what a monstrous undertaking this song would be for a fledgling high school group.

Just as Nick Gilder’s Hot Child in the City came on the stereo, we had the only minor issue of the night at our small Friday night party. It seemed that Mr. Labatt had intercepted the delivery driver as he came down the long drive-way towards the guest house. Sam’s dad paid for everything; our ten large pizzas, four specialty pasta dishes, four panzarottis, and ten, half-gallon bottles of pop. After a few of us tried to give him some money, he threatened us with immediate expulsion from his guest house if we said another word about his hospitality.

Most of us took him at his word, and graciously thanked him for his generosity. Some of us even laughed when Andy Lunby persisted on, and we heard Sam scold him with, “You better hush your mouth, Andy, or you...” and she waved her hand about the room indicating all of us, “Won’t be invited back. My dad isn’t joking. He WILL ask you guys to leave, and not return to our home.”

When both Lunby twins apologized to Sam’s dad, Mr. Labatt said, “Listen, I’ve been truly blessed, and when I see Sam here with a bunch of good kids, good friends having a good time, I don’t mind sharing my blessings.” He then looked at Cathy, Jennifer and me sitting on the couch, and added, “As some of you have already heard, all I ask is that you leave the guest house in a similar state to what you found it in.”

“Thanks, Mr. Labatt,” was echoed once more from around the room after he ended his short statement.

As Sam’s dad turned to walk out of the guest house, he added, “Have a good night, folks. Oh, yes, Mike, Paul and Cathy, I’ve talked with your parents and all is set for tomorrow morning.” The sly look on his face told me that something else was up regarding that issue. However, as Mr. Labatt left the guest house my funny premonition also left my consciousness.

“I think there are paper plates and napkins in the cabinet near the sink ... over the toaster oven,” Sam called out as Andrew Werring, Bradley and the Lunbys moved to the kitchen table to break open the pizza and specialty boxes. “There should be a stack of plastic cups in there, too.”

“I’ll get them,” Elizabeth called out as she rounded the counter between the kitchen table and the sink.

“Bradley,” Cathy called out to Elizabeth’s boyfriend. When he looked up from the pizzas, Cathy used a quick head motion to indicate that he should go help Elizabeth with that small chore. He gave her a smile, slipped away from the table and hustled around the counter.

When Liz felt Bradley’s body next to hers, she turned to him and said, “Oh, I appreciate your help, Brad,” before giving him a short peck on his cheek. Seeing that, I gave Cathy a small hip bump to let her know she had done well.

Those pizzas and pasta dishes didn’t stand an ‘ice-cube’s chance in Hades’ of surviving with fourteen hungry teenagers tearing into them. My friends and I were like a starving pack of hyenas with a fat water-buffalo for a meal. It was amazing how quiet fourteen teenagers could become after everyone had a full plate and a cold drink in their hands.

As I was polishing off my second set of three slices of Hawaiian pizza, Cathy looked at me and asked, “So, are you getting close to full, yet?”

“Working on it,” I replied just prior to chomping down on the last bite of those pizza slices. “Want anything else?” I asked Cathy and Jennifer as I pushed up from the couch to claim any scraps that were remaining in the pizza boxes.

“No,” and “No, thanks,” were their quick replies.

All the Hawaiian pizza was gone when I made my third visit to the kitchen table. Fortunately, there were six slices of a Meat-lovers’ pizza, and a few stray Pepperoni and Supreme slices. I snagged three of the Meat-lovers and a Supreme slice, before I refilled my red Solo cup with Coke. As I returned to my seat at the end of the couch, both Cathy and Jennifer shook their heads in amazement as they saw my thrice, reloaded plate.

“What?” I rhetorically asked as they smiled across at me. “A growing boy has got to eat.”

“Dang, Mike!” Jennifer replied with a smile. She looked at Cathy sitting between us and said, “Remind me, Cathy that I should never to offer to buy his dinner in the future. It looks like he might be able to eat a whole paycheck’s worth of groceries in one sitting.”

My ex-girlfriend just chuckled at Jennifer’s statement, and then slapped her right hand down over my left knee, which nearly caused me to dump the contents of my plate on the floor.

“Hey, careful now,” I mumbled out to Cathy with my mouth somewhat filled with pizza.

“Sorry,” she giggled as pushed the Supreme slice of pizza back into the center of my plate.

After we put our plates in the trash, I heard some whispering over in the corner and saw Katy Forbes, Heidi Amstrong and Andrea Whiting huddled up together. About thirty seconds later, Katy asked in our general direction, “Do you guys feel like playing something? You were great last Friday, and uh, we’d rather hear you play instead of listening to the stereo.”

“You know we don’t have Lynette here to play keyboards,” Samantha replied to Katy’s inquiry.

“Do you guys need to have her keyboards on every song?” Heidi asked. “You can work around not having Lynette here, can’t you?”

“Probably,” Cathy chimed in. “But, I,” and she quickly looked at me, Paul, Sam and Jennifer, “we, wouldn’t want to make her upset by doing something like that, without her here or knowing about it.”

“But you’re not really performing on stage or anything,” Andi Whiting, Jon Lunby’s girlfriend offered. “I’ve known Lynette all my life, and I doubt she’d get upset if you guys were just jamming here for your friends.”

“What do you think, Mike?” Sam turned to me and asked.

“Oh sure, let the boyfriend take the heat if this goes south,” I chuckled as I pushed up off the couch. I then turned and took both Cathy and Jennifer’s hand, and offered them a pull up from the couch.

“Does that mean you’ll play for us?” Katy enthusiastically asked.

“I can’t see Lynette getting her panties in a wad over us playing a few songs,” I replied. Immediately thereafter, I added, “Ouch! ... What?”

It seemed my last remarks earned me a smack on my shoulder from Cathy, who chuckled, “Leave her panties out of this discussion, will you.” Her comment and loving smack helped relieve any remaining tension from the room as everyone laughed or at least snickered at our playful banter.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied as I scooted out of her reach and then walked over to where we had our instruments set aside. “Hey guys,” I called out to Jon, Andy and Andrew, “Could you help Cathy move her drums around, please and thanks.”

“Sure, man,” Andy said as they hopped up and listened to Cathy explain how she wanted them to hold then to safely move her drum kit. It took the four of them less than a minute to shift everything around to Cathy’s liking. She thanked the guys, and Andy and Andrew went back over and took our spots on the couch, while Jon sat down in front of it his girlfriend, Andrea/Andi.

At the same time, Jennifer, Sam, Paul and I went to pick up our guitars, with Jennifer also snagging her gold, tenor saxophone. After we had our mics, wireless ear-monitors and instruments set up, I took a quick glance at my watch and saw that is was quarter to eleven. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes before we’ll have to call it a night,” I called out.

“What do you want to do first, Mike?” Sam asked as she came over between me and Paul.

“Um, we probably should have a go at a few of those southern rock songs, don’t ‘cha think?”

Paul leaned in towards Sam and me and whispered, “We haven’t practiced any of them yet, besides ‘Ain’t That a Shame’. Are you sure about this, Mike?”

“It’s just a practice, a jam session as far as I’m concerned,” I replied to my best friend and bass guitarist. “We’ll have to rework anything we do tonight, when Lynette joins us, so, I can’t see any harm in having a go at a few new songs.”

“So what are you thinking of playing, first?” Jennifer asked as she walked over to us with her twelve string acoustic guitar slung around on her back, and her saxophone in her right hand.

“Well, I’d like to include a couple of CCR songs in this Glencoe play list. Are you guys good with either Born on the Bayou, Green River or maybe Proud Mary? I’m not sure there’s a saxophone in those songs, Jennifer, but after we have a go at them, you might be able to work your magic and improvise a sax riff or two. So ... any preferences?”

“I’m all for Born on the Bayou and Green River!” Cathy chimed in and laid down a small drum roll for added emphasis. “I love CCR, in case you didn’t know.”

When I saw smiles all around after her statement, I said, “Let’s roll with them, then.”

As the others moved to our spots near their wireless microphones, I figured I better explain what we were doing to our friends sitting in front of us. “Uh, guys ... and gals, we’re going to use this time to fool with a few new songs for our first real, PAYING job at Glencoe. They’ve asked if we could play some good, old southern rock or southern blues music because of a school wide study. We’ve agreed to give it a shot. So, uh, forgive us if this sounds a little rough, or if we stop, start or simply say, ‘Screw it’ and move on without finishing the song. I hope you’re okay with that?”

“We’re up for anything you guys do,” Katy replied to which Heidi, Andi and Jon all nodded their agreement.

“I just hope the songs you play are good dance tunes,” Elizabeth said as a grin spread across her beautiful face.

“Are you going to get up and ‘cut-a-rug’ for us, Lizzie?” Samantha asked after hearing my elementary school friend’s comment.

“I just might, if one of these guys here are ready, willing and ABLE to shake their wild thing,” Elizabeth chuckled and turned, first, towards her boyfriend, Bradley and then around to Andrew, Jon and Andy.

“If you think I...” Andrew Werring replied, but was quickly interrupted by Andy with, “ ... or me,” “ ... can dance or lead you like Mike did last Friday at the Valentine’s Dance, you’re seriously out of your mind, Lizzie.”

Everyone had a small laugh at Andrew’s response to Elizabeth’s dancing request. I did see a small little pout spread over Liz’s face for a second or two, before she snuggled up against Bradley in the love seat.

After everyone settled back down, I said into my wireless head-piece “Alright. We’re going to run with a couple of CCR songs. How does, Born on the Bayou, sound?”

Without giving them a chance to answer, I immediately looked back at Cathy and hit a low note, which I bled out of my guitar for about fifteen seconds before I added the well-known opening E7 chord. I played two full measures before Cathy, Paul and Samantha joined in to create the complete sounding introduction to CCR’s best known song (at least in my humble opinion).

We saw smiles all around as our friends started to sway or lightly clap their hands to the slow southern beat. Just prior to starting in with the lyrics, I took a look over at Jennifer, who had her eyes closed and was absorbed, listening to the music. I guessed she was trying to figure out a way to incorporate her saxophone sound as I also saw her fingers moving lightly over the keys on her gold instrument.

Because I was focused on Jennifer’s actions, I missed the obvious starting point for the lyrics and laughed out, “Well damn, that was just dandy, wasn’t it?”

Cathy did a quick drum roll and cymbal crash prior to all of us stopping. “What were you thinking there, Mike?” she asked as I turned away from our audience and shook my head in disgust.

“Nothing, really,” I honestly answered. I turned over to Jennifer and said, “I was just watching Jennifer’s actions as she was concentrating on the sounds, and playing air-sax. I just let the starting point slip on by, sorry.”

“It’s good that you messed up there, Mike,” Jennifer then said. “I think I know how to fit my sax into the song. If you’ll redo that opening, I’m going to softly mirror Sam’s guitar sound before you HOPEFULLY begin to sing the dang song.”

She opened her eyes real wide at me as she gave me a small zinger for my prior miscue.

“Sounds good, Jenn,” Samantha called out to our saxophonist. Sam then stared at me and added, “Starting from the top, AGAIN!

I just smiled and shook my head as the little redhead took her turn at getting a tiny dig in on me.

After settling down, a quick nod from me gave everyone the plan for our second attempt at CCR song. Once more, I let a long, low sounding note escape from my Silverburst guitar before adding the first few intro notes. Everyone but Jennifer joined in playing, and this time I was definitely ready to lay into John Fogerty’s incredible lyrics.

I looked over to Jennifer as I walked towards her and saw that she had raised her sax up to her mouth and was preparing to join in as well. As I started in the lyrics, I heard the soft notes from her golden instrument mirror Sam’s rhythm guitar sounds.

When a few of my friends heard my relatively accurate southern Cajun voice, their eyes shot open as I sang:

Now, when I was just a little boy,
Standin’ to my daddy’s knee.
My poppa said, “Son, don’t let the man get you,
Do what he done to me.”
‘Cause he’ll get you,
‘Cause he’ll get you now, now.

And I can remember the fourth of July,
Runnin’ through the backwood, bare.
And I can still hear my old hound dog barkin’,
Chasin’ down a hoodoo, there.
Chasin’ down a hoodoo, there.

Born on the bayou.
Born on the bayou.
Born on the bayou.
Lord, Lord.

After I finished with those lyrics, I stepped out in front of my bandmates’ mic-stands and played the song’s first guitar solo on my Gibson guitar. I had seen John Fogerty do several guitar solos on some of the music videos from my past-future, so I tried to pattern my playing after that great southern guitarist.

As I worked through that first little guitar solo, I turned to Jennifer and said through the wireless monitor system, “You ready to take the next solo section?”

The beautiful brunette smiled brightly at me as she nodded her head and stepped up beside me in front of our mic-stands. At the appropriate moment, I dropped the neck of my guitar down as a sign for Jennifer to take over the main musical duties. I turned and walked back behind the mics, and looked at Sammy and Paul, who were having a good time watching Jennifer lay down a powerful but appropriate sax riff.

When I captured Cathy’s gaze, she zeroed in on me and mouthed, ‘Damn, this sounds great, Mike.“ I just smiled and nodded my agreement as she laid down a cool syncopated tom and cymbal run.

As Jennifer’s sax solo wound down, I walked up to her and we finished that solo section by taking turns providing the main melody, before we walked back behind the mics. My friends seated out in front of us were smiling and moving to the driving beat as I finished the lyrics to this kick-ass, swamp-rock song.

I was grinning from ear to ear as I finished singing and turned to listen to my band mates rip out a killer ending to this song. Cathy’s drumming was amazing as I turned around to face and read her body language on her finishing skins and metal run. In addition, Jennifer’s unique saxophone riff at the end simply smoothed out the ‘icing on the cake‘ of this southern rock song.

“That was awesome!” Katy called out immediately after Cathy shut down the song with a wicked run of cymbal crashes. It was soon followed by other plaudits from our friends as my three mobile band mates and I gave each other a few congratulatory high-fives. Jennifer and I then walked to the front of Cathy’s drums and gave our drummer a couple of huge high-fives.

“I think we have another winner for our southern playlist,” Sam called out as she escaped from Paul’s little bear-hug. She then asked, “Can, uh, you guys picture Lynette’s keyboards on that song?”

“Easy,” Jennifer immediately chimed in. “She won’t have a lick of trouble adding her ebonies and ivories to that song. It was fairly easy for me to add my sax, so I’m sure she’ll be able to duplicate that feat.”

Paul and I nodded our heads in affirmation with Jennifer’s words before we softly heard, “Can you guys do another CCR song?”

“I think we can manage that for you, Elizabeth,” I replied as I turned and smiled out at my East-Coast Swing dance partner, and her boyfriend, Bradley.

“That was great, guys,” Elizabeth replied and added, “I might have to sweet talk, both my mom into letting me go, and Laurie (Bradley’s older sister) into taking us over to Glencoe when you play at their school. What’s the date of this dance?”

“I think it’s, uh...” I fumbled with remembering the date, and smiled when Sam rescued me by calling out, “Friday, April ... the sixth.”

“Good stuff! Remember that date, Bradley,” Elizabeth said as she snuggled back up to her boyfriend on the love seat.

“Yeah, Bradley!” Andy and Andrew both ribbed our blushing friend, “remember that date.”

As that foolishness went on for a few more seconds, I turned to my band mates and said, “Green River, next?” Their quick nods let me know we were all on the same page as far as our band’s playlist was concerned. “Okay. Here we go,” and I once more led off with the lead guitar intro to this popular Credence song.

As I played an extended introduction to this song, I looked around and I saw that Jennifer had unclipped her saxophone and had pulled her beautiful twelve string acoustic guitar over her head. I just shook my head as I watched her shimmy her black jean covered butt over towards Sam and Paul before giving Sam a small high-five. When I turned to Cathy, she winked at me as she apparently caught me scoping out our saxophonist/acoustic guitar player’s awesome ass. Before I could even think of mouthing something back at her, Cathy hammered down on the skins to truly begin this swamp-rock song.

Paul, Sam and Jennifer seemed satisfied playing a supporting role off to the side on this song as I ripped the distinctive Fogerty sound on my Silverburst guitar. All three of them had smiles on their faces prior to my southern accented singing:

Well, take me back down where cool water flows, yeah.
Let me remember things I love.
Stoppin’ at the log where catfish bite.
Walkin’ along the river road at night.
Barefoot girls, dancin’ in the moonlight.

I can hear the bullfrog callin’ me.
Wonder if my rope’s still hangin’ to the tree.
Love to kick my feet way down the shallow water.
Shoefly, dragonfly, get back to your mother.
Pick up a flat rock, skip it across Green River.
Well.

Up at Cody’s camp I spent my days, oh.
With flat car riders and cross-tie walkers.
Old Cody, Junior took me over.
Said, “You’re gonna find the world is smould’rin’.
And if you get lost come, on home to Green River.”

Well.
Come on home.

At the end of that song as our friends were clapping and hollering at us, Sam walked over to me and whispered in my ear, “Do you want to stick with these CCR songs, and maybe a few southern blues songs for that Glencoe performance because, damn, Mike, you’re killing it with your southern Cajun sound?”

“Girl, I love CCR,” I replied with a smile but then added, “I wouldn’t mind tossing in a few Skynyrd or ZZ Top songs with those two CCR tunes.”

“That’s fine with me, Mike. What do you want to try next?” she asked out loud where everyone could hear.

“Ah ... Stephanie, the gal from Glencoe said they wanted a couple of true ‘blues’ songs, right? How about this pair of true southern blues songs, then?” I smiled at the others in our band before I gently started to pick out the opening guitar line from ZZ Top’s Waiting for the Bus.

After playing that little line for several measures, I stopped and asked my friends sitting on the couch, loveseat or on the floor in front of us, “You guys up for some ZZ Top blues?”

“Oh hell, yeah!” Andrew Werring shouted and pumped his fists in the air as he bounced around on the front edge of the couch.

“I’d love it!” Andi added from the floor in front of Jon.

“Alrighty, then,” I said as I turned back to my band mates. “Come in here for a sec, please?” I asked as I walked around beside Cathy at her drums. When Jennifer, Sam and Paul huddled there with us, I asked, “Do either of you want to sing this song? Jenn ... Sam?”

“I’ve never thought about singing it before,” Jennifer replied then added shortly thereafter, “Honestly, I’m not sure I know all the lyrics to it.”

“Make a fist for me, Sugar-Blues,” I requested. When she did, I gave her a slight fist-bump. I then softly said, “You should, now.”

Jennifer’s eyes sparkled for a second after that gentle kissing of our fists, and she throatily whispered, “Damn, Mike ... that gift of yours is just plain crazy.”

I just laughed at her comment, and then asked towards Sam, “Do you want to harmonize with her?”

“I’ll see how it goes with her lead vocals,” Sam replied. “We can doctor it up when Lynette joins the mix, if we want to trick it up some.”

A quick round of smiling, head bobs indicated that everyone was hot to trot with some ZZ blues. Before we walked back out to our positions, I asked, “Do we just want to transition into Jesus Just Left Chicago?

“I think that would be so cool,” Cathy said as she laid down the easy beat for Waiting on the Bus.

“Do you mind if I sing lead on that song, Jennifer, Sam?” I asked as we moseyed around to our positions out front.

“Run with it, Mike,” Jennifer quickly replied while Sam just laughed and butted her forehead into my shoulder.

Just as we about to get started, Sam shouted, “Wait a sec, guys. I wanna play this on my twelve-string. I’ve just got a funky feeling about doing it on that, instead of on my Strat.”

“This outta be good,” I replied to Paul as we watched Sammy swap one guitar for another.

Paul then chuckled, “Got a little something for Jesus on your acoustic, baby?”

“I’ll just wing it,” Sam replied as she adjusted a couple of strings with the tuner knobs. When she was satisfied with the sound, she turned to Jennifer, smiled and said, “You ready to bring some blues, Girlfriend?”

Both of the beautiful teenagers then nodded over at me. I took a quick peek back at our drummer and Cathy gave me a quick, affirmative wink. I then began to pick out the bluesy opening riff to, Waiting on the Bus. Cathy and Paul jumped in with their drums and bass after listening to me run through that opening salvo, twice.

As I turned to take a peek at Sam and Jennifer, I saw that Jennifer was swaying and strutting to the beat. I thought, ‘Good Lord, she’s on fire!‘ I saw Jennifer slide her left fingers through her long, wavy dark brown hair. She appeared to be getting drunk on this blues music. Neither Paul, Cathy nor I missed a beat when she missed or postponed what we thought was the obvious entry point for her vocals.

Sam just smiled at me as she, too, recognized Jennifer’s missed entry point for her vocals. All four of us watched Jennifer as we continued playing. When she finally lifted her head up and opened her eyes, Jennifer appeared to be transformed into a sexy, slender, female version of Billy Gibbons, minus the long blonde beard.

Jennifer stepped up to her mic-stand, snatched off her wireless mic and got down and dirty with:

Have mercy!
Been waitin’ for the bus all day.
Have mercy!
Been waitin’ for the bus all day.
I got my brown paper bag,

And my take-home pay.

Samantha then easily joined in with her acoustic guitar, and mirrored my bluesy electric riff on the second verse. I was surprised in a good way when she played off my solo riff between the second verse and the final, third verse. She sauntered out from behind the mic-stands with me and stepped right up next to me as our fingers flew over our guitar strings.

When Sam and I turned to amble back behind the mics to let Jennifer take over center stage for the final verse, I saw that Paul had moved over beside his sister’s drum kit. He was grinning from ear to ear as he took in his new girlfriend, and his best friend playing guitars like two peas in a pod.

Sam and I both saw him mouth, ‘That was kick-ass pickin’.’

When Jennifer finished up with, “Well, I’ll be ridin’ on the bus, ‘till I Cadillac,” she easily reattached her mic to the stand, and dropped back behind Paul, Sam and me for the final few measures of the song. Then as we transitioned into Jesus Just Left Chicago, Jennifer quickly picked up her tenor saxophone, clipped her neck chain to it, and swayed to the music off to the right of Cathy’s drums.

Our original run through of this song wasn’t all that good, as all three of us guitar players weren’t on the same page or key. Just as I was about to begin singing, Cathy hammered her bass pedal and cymbals in a crazy manner which definitely didn’t fit the song. As we stopped playing and turned to her, she had a look of ‘are you nuts‘ on her face as she asked, “Can you guys agree on just ONE key for this song? Your timing was good, but good lord, didn’t you hear it?”

 
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