Are we still on topic though?
Actually, I've been meaning to bring it back to the topic of RAF Awards. I realized that I've been moving further and further away since Chapter 2.
Originally, this was going to be a series of stories about a bunch of RAFians, but as things went on, I realized that I actually started to become more interested in where my story ended up going. I admit, it does make the title a little uninformative of the actual content, but as this chapter will show, I'm planning on having a few chapters unrelated to the main plot that I'll (hopefully) tie up at the end.
Anyway, now that I've gotten that out of the way, new chapter.
Chapter 6: The Stick of Fate
Of course, not all of RAF had to deal with stalkers. While gh was working out what exactly to do with his situation, the rest of the RAFians were going about their own business; much of which, of course, dealt with the RAF Awards. A few days had already passed since the announcement, and things were just beginning to die down. “Beginning” being the key word, as the forum was still buzzing with activity. Even outside of the voting, there was quite a bit more activity than normal.
This seemed to bring out the more mischievous side of Demos. He had been playing pranks on the RAFians, and effectively scaring away the newcomers. Most of the pranks were of a rather benign nature, such as slipping a fake (at least, he was pretty sure it was fake) maggot into somebody's breakfast cereal.
“Demos,” Saffa said. She and Broken had finally decided to confront the demon. “What exactly are you doing?”
“Nothing! Nothing at all!” Demos replied in a way that implied that he was, in fact, doing something.
Broken raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it looks to me like you're trying to replace somebody's eye drops with soy sauce.”
“Aw, come on! You're not going to let me have just a little fun here?”
“I don't really see how that could be considered fun in any capacity.”
Saffa sighed. There was only one real way this could have gone. In typical RAF fashion, Demos began to break into song.
Now, you are ****ed! **** out of luck!
Tomorrow, you'll wake with your beds full of muck!
I will do my jokes, you'll wish you never spoke,
I'll even replace all your Pepsi with Coke!
Saffa interrupted Demos, more than fed up with his over-the-top theatrics.
We challenge you to a rock-off,
Give us one chance to rock your socks off.
Demos stared for a moment, perplexed. Out of nowhere, he let out a string of profanities. Shortly after, he resumed his song:
Ugh, the demon code prevents me
From declining a rock-off challenge.
What are your terms? What's the catch?
Saffa considered for a moment before replying:
If we win, then you apologize to everyone that you pranked . . .
And also, you will have to clean our threads!
Demos seemed to accept these terms. “And what if I win?”
“Then you can take Broken to hell . . .”
“WHAT!?” Broken was obviously not happy with this.
Saffa quietly said to Broken, “Trust me, it's the only way.”
“What are you talking about-”
Saffa turned to address Demos again. “To do all your paperwork for a week or . . . whatever.”
“Fine!” Demos bellowed. “Let the rock-off BEGIN!”
Suddenly, the three were in a Roman-style Colosseum. None of them were quite sure how they got there, but they decided to go with it if it meant getting done with the song as soon as possible.
I'm a demon, I can do what I want!
I can put olives in your croissant!
There's never been a rock-off that I've ever lost.
I can't wait to take Broken to hell,
I might even make him wear a bell!
He'll do my work for me, he might even cry, as well!
“STOP!” Broken screamed. He had heard quite enough.
“Come on, Broken!” Saffa said. “Let's fight his music with our music.”
“There's just no way that we can win. That was a masterpiece!”
“He rocks too hard because he's not a mortal man!”
Saffa slapped Broken across the face. “Damn it, Broken, he's gonna make you do all his work!” she said while he was still staring at her hand.
“No. . .”
“. . . Unless we bust a massive monster mammoth jam!”
This time, it was Underseen's turn to sigh. “Can we just get done with this?”
And with that, they began to sing, alternating lines:
Now it's time to blow this sucker down . . .
Come on, Broken, now it's time to blow doors down.
I hear you, Saffa, now it's time to blow doors down.
Light up the stage 'cause it's time for a showdown.
Not that lame crap that you'd hear at a hoedown.
Now we've got to blow this demon down . . .
He's gonna kill me if we don't blow doors down!
C'mon, Broken, it's time to blow doors down!
Oh, we'll piledrive you, it's time for a smackdown!
They sang these final lines in unison:
Hey Anti-Christ-er, Beelzeboss,
We know your weakness, drop the soy sauce.
We rock the forum and blow your mind,
We will defeat you for all RAFkind!
You hold the scepter,
We hold the key!
You are the demon,
BUT WE HAVE TEA!
We have the tea!
“You guys are ****ing lame!” Demos yelled after what seemed like the hundredth repetition of the final line. “And what does tea have to do with anything.”
“NO!” Broken yelled.
Suddenly, Broken sat bolt upright, roused from his sleep. “Wow,” he said to himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “that was a strange dream.”
I don't care if this made any sense, I just wanted to have an excuse to have an adaptation of a Tenacious D song.
Without all of the sexual stuff, of course, because that would have made this chapter even weirder than it already was.