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#remember how buster lose his bow tie?
sembaze · 2 years
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Buster visits Jimmy!!!
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bitsy83 · 7 years
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Sing 2 - Duets
(Just the first chapter of my fan-sequel to my new favorite movie. I just hope I can get this posting down ok.)  
Chapter 1 - A New Day
“I remember when I was a kid, my dad always told me to never let failure stop you from achieving your goals. After all, if all roads to success were easy, then everyone would be a winner. And you have to know how to lose in order to know what winning is really all about.
“Less than a year ago, I was an optimistic, but struggling, theater producer who barely had two pennies to rub together. My shows were failing, money was practically nonexistent, and I had more death threats than an Internet troll. My best pal, Eddie, told me time and again to just give up and let the theater go so I could move on to bigger and better things. What he didn’t realize was this was my bigger and better thing and I wasn’t letting it go for anybody. So, in a last ditch effort, I decided to do the one thing I knew would pack my theater to the brim: a singing competition! I won’t go into too much detail, but let’s just say this was both the greatest idea I ever had and the biggest mistake I ever made. I may have stretched the truth here and there about the prize money and maybe have put a bit too much pressure on my contestants and myself, which eventually led to the collapse - both figuratively and literally - of my beloved theater.
“I was a failure. A washed-up clown. A loose cannon, I believe someone stated. I had hit rock bottom, which meant one thing: the only place left I had to go…was up. But I didn’t do it alone…
“While I still had Eddie and dear Ms. Crawley in my corner, the competition introduced me a lively group of characters I would later on call my friends and close knit theater family. Johnny, Rosita, Gunter, Ash, Meena, and Mike. (Well, Mike when he wasn’t avoiding the loan sharks and killer Russian bears).  With their help, I was able to not only put on a fantastic show, but my theater was restored to its former glory, thanks to the illustrious Nana Noodleman.
“I swear, I’ve never seen this place so popular, not even when I was a kid! Obviously, I had to make some changes if I was able to make this second chance last.  Dear Mrs. Noodleman oversees the productions and gives insight on what should and should not be performed. We still put on various plays and concerts, but we’ve even gotten requests to use the stage as a wedding venue and other private events.  This is always good for a little extra spending money for any future shows we have, especially for my little theater family.  They still put on their shows and even help out backstage when their talents are not required onstage.
“For example, Rosita has offered to help out with prop and set design.  I guess when you are raising twenty-five children and one husband, organization and good imagination just come naturally to you.  Gunter has offered to be our official choreographer.  He’s an excellent teacher, though sometimes his students get a bit embarrassed when he breaks out the sequenced leotards.  While Meena has finally gotten over her stage fright and does occasionally perform, she happened to take quite a shine to working as a stagehand.  She’s hoping that it’ll help beef up her college resumes.  Poor girl’s been stressing herself out in getting into a good school so she can major in music and maybe even theater (a girl after my own heart).  
“Our up-and-coming rock star, Ash, has set an all-time record for rebounding after her ugly breakup with what’s-his-name.  Not only has she written countless new songs since her first solo performance, she reunited a few old schoolmates of hers and started a new band: Nature’s Rejects. (Not my first choice for a band name, but what can you do?)  This girl’s been getting gigs all over the city and has become a local celebrity.
“Last, but not least, Johnny.  I knew the second I looked at him that this kid was going to be a whiz on the piano and I was right.  He still gets lessons from Ms. Crawley, but he’s such a pro now that I think he only does it to have access to a piano.  Hearing him sing while tickling the ebony and ivory just melts your heart.
“The hands of fate has given me a new beginning. I may have taken a final bow at my old theater, but this revival will live on for generations to come! Or my name isn’t Buster…”
A knock on the door interrupted Buster’s monologue. “Good morning, Mr. Moon,” said Ms. Crawley as she shuffled into his office, holding a cup of coffee.
“Hold that thought, Ms. Crawley,” said Buster and quickly went to his camera tripod, turning off the recording button. “Looks like my auto-documentary will have to be put on hold. So, what is on the agenda today?”
“Well, let’s see…” With a shaky hand, Ms. Crawley pulled out her notepad. “Meena and Eddie will be working on the new sound system and lighting fixtures we ordered. Johnny will be in for his usual piano lesson. Oh, and Ash and her little friends will be using rehearsal room A for practice until about one, and then we start rehearsals for the new play. Rosita will be here early to help with the set design.”
“Excellent!” said Buster, sipping his coffee. “Just like a well-oiled machine.” He walked over to his window, taking a deep breath. “It’s gonna be a good day, Ms. Crawley. And there will be plenty more to come after that!”
***
“Honey, have you seen my car keys?” asked Norman as he was wiping Casper’s face with a paper towel.
“Coat pocket,” said Rosita, pulling an action figure out of Hannah’s mouth. “Ok, where did I put my binder?”
“On the counter near the coffeemaker.”
It was just another chaotic morning at the breakfast nook for Rosita and family, though the morning routine has had some upgrades. Ever since Rosita performed her song with Gunter, Norman saw her in a whole new light. After a long, heartfelt talk, he realized that he had been taking his wife for granted and should have been helping her with the kids as well as her new job at Moon theater. So now, Norman gets up with Rosita and together they help the kids get ready for school and getting their own schedules on track. Rosita was never one to complain, but she was so happy to finally get a little extra help in the morning as well as around the house. Although they still kept up her strange contraption to get the kids out of bed and do the cleaning while they were both at work.
So, after giving the kids their backpacks (Rosita did the girls while Norman got the boys) and sending them on their way, Norman and Rosita took a moment to fix each other up.
“Bye Norman,” said Rosita, straightening his tie.
“Bye bye, Rosita,” said Norman, handing her her purse. “Tell Gunter I said…what’s hello in German again?”
“Guten Tag. And I will.” Rosita chuckled and gave her husband a loving kiss. “See you tonight, honey. Have a great day at work.”
With that, Norman went to the car while Rosita hummed down the street in the opposite direction. It was gonna be a good day; she could feel it.
*** Meena hummed to herself as she was preparing the pancake batter. Since she was plugged into her tunes, she didn’t hear her grandfather come up behind her, trying to steal a few extra chocolate chips. His attempt was thwarted thanks to Meena’s mother smacking his trunk.
“No dad,” she scolded. “You remember what the doctor said about your blood pressure: cut back on the sweets!”
Grandpa just harrumphed and went to sit down at the breakfast table. “I still think I need a second opinion. That doc’s a quack.”
“He’s a duck, dad…”
“So I got a bit of a sweet tooth,” he continued. “I’ve been eating like that since I was Meena’s age and I still made star quarterback on the college football team.”
“Well, you’re not her age now, so you’re gonna have to follow doctor’s orders. Besides, I made you a nice bowl of oatmeal instead.”
“I can make something else,” said Meena, who had taken off her headphones.
But her mother shook her head. “You finish up on the pancakes, sweetie. You know how you grandma loves them. Speaking of which, I better go see if she’s having trouble finding her glasses again.”
After placing the bowl of oatmeal in front of her disgruntled father, Meena’s mom left the kitchen to head upstairs. Once the coast was clear, Meena picked up the bowl of chips and went over to the table. She held a finger to her lips and sprinkled a few chips on his oatmeal. Grandpa chuckled. “That’s my girl.”
“Mom does have a point though,” she said. “I don’t want you getting sick.”
Grandpa laughed as he took a bite of his breakfast. “Aw, I’m as fit as a fiddle, Meena. Don’t you worry about me. Or should I say ‘Don’t you worry ‘bout a thiiiing!”
Meena giggled. “Very cute, Grandpa.” She gave him a small kiss on his head, then went back to the stove.
“That reminds me, baby girl. Did you ever hear back from that dream school of yours?”
“Lincoln?” Meena shook her head. “No, not yet. Although I’m starting to wonder if I still have a shot…”
“Of course you do! So the other schools you applied for turned you down. So what? If they had half a brain, they’d have taken you in a heartbeat! Once you become a world-famous singer, they’ll be kicking themselves to their graves.”
Meena rolled her eyes. Once again, her grandfather was promoting her as a superstar singer. “Grandpa, I know you want me to make it big, but I want to do more with my life than just sing. I wanna learn everything I can about music. The history, the styles, the impact it has on different cultures. And thanks to Mr. Moon, now I’m kinda interesting in theater production.”
Grandpa coughed. “You mean, you’d rather go back behind the curtain again? I thought you were over your stage fright.”
“I am!” she said, placing the fresh batch of pancakes on the table. “I just want something to fall back on, that’s all. I can’t put all my eggs in one basket.”
Shaking his head in both admiration and frustration, Grandpa took another bite of his oatmeal. “Well, I can’t argue with your logic, baby girl. Just don’t deny the world your gift, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Who says I only have one gift to give?”
Grandpa laughed. “That’s true, that’s true. Nice to finally see some backbone growing outta you. Make me some coffee, baby. I’m gonna get the paper.”
***
Ash grumbled as she dragged her feet to the kitchen. She hated mornings, whether they be the crack of dawn or eleven o’clock. She was strictly an afternoon, evening, and night kind of girl.  She was about to start the coffee when she saw a cup for her was already made. Ash smirked and reached for the creamer. “Thank you, Olive,” she said over her shoulder.
Ever since her breakup with Lance, Ash wasted no time in moving forward as much as possible. One step forward including patching things up with her old friend, Olive; a raccoon Ash knew back from the third grade. Olive was loyal and friendly, though gifted with a sarcastic wit that she wasn’t afraid to unleash. They had been very close in the past, but once Ash started dating Lance during their junior year in high school, their friendship faltered.  Once the breakup happened, Ash contacted Olive again and the two of them were finally able to talk things over.  Everything connected to Lance (including music posters, clothing, old CDs, and his weird collection of bottle caps) was successfully removed from the apartment, Olive moved in and they got along swimmingly.
Olive chuckled as she sat at the table with the morning paper. “Figured it was either that or break out the air horn. How is it that I’m a nocturnal animal and still get up before you do?”
“You got messed up DNA?” said Ash. “So, anything about zombies in the paper?”
Olive shook her head. “Not yet, though apparently a piece of sand covered in oyster mucus is touring the country.”
Ash looked over Olive’s shoulder to see what she was referring to. The front page of the paper said Priceless 600 Year-Old Pearl To Be Displayed at City Museum. Below the headline, a picture of a large white orb was displayed on a velvet pillow in glass box. Ash let out a low whistle. “Wow, imagine having that on your eBay page.”
“Seriously. Hey, we rehearsing at the theater today?”
Ash’s second step forward was working on her music career and Olive was just the boost she needed. Olive was already great at the bass and was friends with a drummer named Brandy: a sweet, bubbly teenage skunk who was addicted to all forms of social media.  This actually wasn’t a bad thing since Brandy was in charge of the band’s Facebook page and Twitter account.  
“Yup,” said Ash as she downed the rest of her coffee. “Be sure to text Brandy.  I don’t want her missing the warm-up again.”
“Don’t worry; she’ll be there,” said Olive, wiping her glasses on the corner of shirt. Especially if she wants to see Johnny…
***
“Thirty-six…thirty-seven…thirty-eight…”
Johnny blinked away the sweat in his eyes as he finished up another set of curl-ups while hanging upside down.  He kept catching glimpses of the news broadcast during his sets.  
“The pearl will be displayed at the Cornea Museum for exactly one month before continuing its global tour,” said the cat announcer. “The pearl has been in the Mundabi family for nearly ten generations and is part of a very important tradition.  Whenever the current owner of the pearl passes away, the pearl must make a global voyage to various cities in the world before being handed down to the next heir. The pearl is said to be worth over five-billion dollars in American currency. Mayor Olsen has promised the Mundabi family that the pearl will have only the best security protecting it. Mr.  Mundabi almost rejected the city of Cornea after learning about the botched gold heist that took place last year.  The culprit was none other than Marcus “Big Daddy” Greystone, who is still currently serving time…”
Johnny turned off the TV and sighed heavily. He hated it when the news brought up his dad’s gang. Sure, his dad was a criminal, but he only stole money. He had never broken into homes or stolen personal items, even if the item in question was beyond priceless.
Thinking of his father led Johnny over to the collection of pictures he had sitting on the makeshift shelf in his room. All the pics were of happier times when he still lived in England and before his father had become “Big Daddy Greystone.” Most of all, it was when he still had his mother. His eyes fell upon his favorite photo of her.  Unlike Johnny and his dad, his mother was brown-furred gorillia.  She had a kind face and hazel eyes that always eased Johnny’s heart.  In the photo, she was wearing her favorite pink sweater and was holding Johnny when he was a toddler.  The young ape in the picture wouldn’t look at the camera, but kept his eyes on his mother, who returned the gaze with a beautiful smile on her face.  But what Johnny remembered the most was her voice.  Her passion for singing matched his own.  Every night before bed, he would sit on his father’s lap while she played the piano and sung him a lullaby, her melodious voice lulling him to dreamland. She was the exact opposite of his dad: kind, gentle, soft-spoken. She really brought a sense of balance to their family, until…
Johnny shook away the memory. Don’t think of that now, Johnny thought to himself.  He then looked over at the picture of him and his dad.  He must have only been about three or four and was propped on his dad’s shoulder, smiling and waving to the camera.  His dad had a large smile on his face as he looked up at his son, every bit of him shining with pride.  Next to the photo was the newspaper article of his father getting arrested, complete with mugshot.  It was like they were two different apes.  The news would always see his father as a notorious, heartless criminal who didn’t deserve a second chance.  But to Johnny, he’d always be his dad.  
Johnny picked up a marker and scratched another day off the calendar.  “Almost there, dad.”  Flipping ahead, he saw that there were only six months left before his father’s parole.  The prison visits had been helping him cope with the absence.  It was the first time he and his dad actually sat down and really spoke to each other as father and son and not gang leader and henchman.  Marcus promised Johnny, over and over, that things would be different once he got out.  Johnny believed him, but was still worried.  He knew that having a criminal record meant it’d be difficult to get a job.  Still, he couldn’t afford to give up hope.  
Looking down at his watch, he saw that it was time for him to get cleaned up and head to the theater.  After a quick shower and breakfast, Johnny grabbed his skateboard and locked up the garage.  
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