The Talent Show (9 page)

Other acts weren't quite as polished. A young juggler tried to keep three clubs spinning in the air, but he kept dropping them. A magician pulled a rabbit out of a hat, but it was obvious that the rabbit had been stashed in the box that was right under the hat. It was also obvious that the rabbit was a stuffed animal. A ventriloquist had a really lifelike dummy, but the dummy's voice sounded just like the ventriloquist's, whose mouth was moving.

Then there were the acts that were just plain
weird
.

A nerdy-looking boy named Ricky got up on stage. He didn't have any props, instrument, or prerecorded music.

“What's your talent, Ricky?” asked Mrs. Marotta. “You didn't write it on the sign-up sheet.”

“I do impersonations,” he replied. “I will now do my impersonation of a piece of bacon frying.”

Ricky got down on the floor. First he started shaking. Then he slithered around the stage and slowly pulled his legs in to make it look like his body was shrinking. The whole time, he was making sizzling noises. It actually
did
look a little bit like bacon frying. The judges gave him a nice round of applause.

Next, a girl named Amy got on the stage holding a short stick and a ball of yarn.

“What's your talent?” asked Mrs. Marotta.

“I am going to crochet,” she said.

“Did you say you're going to play croquet?” asked Reverend Mercun in the front row.

“No, I'm going to
crochet
,” Amy repeated.

She sat down on a chair and started pulling loops of yarn through the other loops.

“It's not the same as knitting,” Amy said as she worked. “You don't use two needles, and only one loop is active at a time.”

The judges watched her for two minutes, and put their heads together to discuss things.

“I have to admit it,” said Mayor Rettino. “The kid's got talent.”

“You're in, Amy,” said Principal Anderson.

The next contestant, a boy named Eric, climbed up on the stage carrying a laptop computer.

“What's your talent, Eric?” asked Mrs. Marotta.

“I'm going to do a PowerPoint presentation,” he announced.

The judges put their heads together to talk things over.

“I'm sure your PowerPoint is wonderful, but I'm not sure that it qualifies as a
talent
,” said Mayor Rettino.

“How come that girl before me was allowed to knit, but I can't do my PowerPoint?” asked Eric.

“It wasn't knitting!” Amy yelled from the back of the room. “It was crocheting!”

“We have to draw the line somewhere,” said Reverend Mercun. “We're really sorry.”

“Fine!” Eric said, and he left in a huff.

While the other acts were performing at the front of the stage, The BluffTones were told to set up their drum set and other equipment. Paul Crichton gave a copy of the “Stacy's Mom” lyrics to Mrs. Marotta, as required by the talent show rules.

“One … two … three … four!” Paul called out.

 

Stacy's mom has got it going on.

Stacy's mom has got it going on.

Stacy's mom has got it going on.

Stacy's mom has got it going on.

The band ran through the song without missing a note. All the kids, who had been fidgeting during the other acts, stopped and stared at The
BluffTones. Toes were tapping. Heads were bobbing. By the second verse, some of the kids were up and dancing.

I know it might be wrong, but I'm in love with Stacy's mom.

Paul hit the last chord and looked up. They had totally nailed it. Kids were clapping and whistling. The BluffTones took a deep bow. Clearly, Elke Villa had some competition on her hands.

The panel of judges—Mayor Rettino, Reverend Mercun, and Principal Anderson—had a brief whispered conversation.

“Excuse me,” Mayor Rettino said. “Will you boys come over here, please?”

Paul, Jim, Victor, and Rob put down their instruments and hopped off the stage confidently. They figured the judges were going to tell them how great they sounded. Reverend Mercun was looking at the lyric sheet to “Stacy's Mom.”

“Guys,” Principal Anderson said, “you're terrific, but I'm very sorry to tell you that you can't sing that song in the talent show.”

“Why not?” Paul asked. “Is somebody else doing it?”

“No … ,” the principal said.

“I find that song to be … suggestive,” said Reverend Mercun.

“Huh?” Jim asked. “Suggestive of
what
?”

“Are you saying the song is dirty?” asked Paul.

“The singer is in love with his girlfriend's mother,” explained the Reverend.

“Yeah, so?” asked Rob.

“Well, that's inappropriate,” Reverend Mercun said.

“Are you kidding me?” Paul said, his voice rising. “It's just a song. It's
funny
.”

“So just because
you
think it's dirty … ,” said Rob.

Victor shot them a look to get them to shut up. You don't talk back to grown-ups. Especially when one of them is a reverend.

“We could play ‘Satisfaction,'” Jim said.

“The song by The Rolling Stones?” asked Reverend Mercun. “That's suggestive too.”

“What's suggestive about it?” Paul asked. “That's ridiculous!

“How about ‘Wild Thing'?” asked Rob.

“That song is also quite suggestive,” said
Reverend Mercun. “There must be something else you boys can play that wouldn't offend anyone.”

“‘Stacy's Mom' won't offend anyone!” Paul said. “It was a big hit. It was on the radio. It was in a Dr Pepper commercial!”

“Why don't you fellows play ‘Wipeout'?” suggested Mayor Rettino. “I heard you played that at a birthday party recently. The kids loved it. And it doesn't have any offensive lyrics.”

“It doesn't have any lyrics at
all
!” Paul pointed out.

“We're not playing ‘Wipeout,'” Victor said firmly. “
Anybody
can play ‘Wipeout.'”

“I'm terribly sorry,” Reverend Mercun told the boys, “but the talent show has to maintain certain standards of decency. There will be lots of parents and grandparents in the audience. I'm sure you understand.”

“I don't understand!” Rob said.

“Come on, guys,” said Victor. “Let's get out of here. We don't need this.”

“Hang on,” Paul said. “Can we have a minute? Band meeting.”

The BluffTones went off to the side of the
stage and huddled up like a football team.

“This is bull, man,” said Victor. “They can keep their stupid talent show. We don't have to take this.”

“What are we supposed to do about it?” asked Jim.

“What if we changed the words?” Rob suggested. “Like, ‘Stacy's Mom is the bomb.'”

“That's lame,” said Paul, “and it doesn't have the right number of syllables, either.”

“‘Stacy's Mom can really sing a psalm,'” said Victor, which made everybody crack up.

Paul took a minute to think things over. His dad had told him a lot about rock and roll history. He had learned one thing—nobody ever got famous in music by following the rules. They said a white guy couldn't sing black music, and then Elvis came along. They said guitar groups were on the way out, and then The Beatles came along. They said you should treat your instruments with love and care, and The Who and Jimi Hendrix came along and destroyed them right on stage. They said rock music was dead and played out, and then along came punk, heavy metal, and rap.

The way to get famous, Paul decided, isn't to do what you're told. If you want to be famous, you break the rules and piss off the powers that be. Rock and roll is about freedom and rebellion. If he compromised now, when his career hadn't even started yet, he would be compromising for the rest of his life. This was a moment of truth, a turning point.

So he came up with an idea.

“Okay, here's what we're gonna do,” Paul told the band. “We tell them we'll play
another
song. Whatever they want to hear. ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat.' I don't care. Then, on the night of the talent show, we get up on stage and do ‘Stacy's Mom.' That will blow their minds!”

“We're gonna get in trouble, Paul,” said Jim. “You know that, right?”

“Good,” Paul said. “Let's get in trouble! Let's be rebels.”

“Yeah, what are they gonna do?” asked Victor. “Suspend us?”

“Let 'em,” Paul said. “We'll be rock and roll outlaws.”

“Okay,” Rob agreed, hesitantly. “I'm in. Let's do it.”

The BluffTones broke their huddle and went back to talk with the judges.

“So what's it going to be, boys?” asked Principal Anderson.

“Put us down for ‘Wipeout,'” Paul said.

Girls Will Be Girls

Tyler and his basketball-playing gorillas found that, indeed,
lots
of boys were auditioning to be in the talent show. A group of ten fourth-grade Elvis impersonators danced to Michael Jackson's “Thriller.” The kids in the crowd seemed to really enjoy a bunch of guys dressed as penguins riding fake surfboards while strumming fake guitars to the theme song from
Hawaii Five-O
. Where they found a dozen penguin costumes was anybody's guess. They even had a fake igloo as a prop.

Probably the lamest act was a group of five boys who called themselves “The Janitors.” They came out on stage dressed in overalls and holding brooms. There was no music. The entire act
consisted of one boy dumping a wheelbarrow full of dirt on the stage, and the other four sweeping it up.

“That's a talent?” Tyler asked his gorilla friends.

After The Janitors were finished cleaning up, the judges felt bad about sending home the boy who wanted to show off his PowerPoint presentation.

Between acts, Tyler and the gorilla boys were milling around backstage, where they found a stack of large plastic garbage cans. It's a natural fact that if you combine three or more sixth-grade boys, garbage cans, and time on their hands, it invariably adds up to one thing—drumming.

The boys began to beat on the garbage cans with their hands, and they didn't notice how loud they were until Mrs. Marotta suddenly came backstage to see what was going on.

They stopped beating on the garbage cans instantly.

“Sorry, Mrs. Marotta,” said Tyler.

“Sorry, nothing,” she replied. “That's going to be your act!”

The Drumming Gorillas were born.

It's human nature. Boys like to beat on garbage cans, and girls like to dance. Julia Maguire, Anne Zafian, and the other Beach Babes walked into the multipurpose room a half hour late for the audition. Partly it was because they had a hard time fitting the fake palm tree prop into Anne's mom's minivan. But the other reason was that Mrs. Zafian wanted the girls to make a grand entrance.

And they did. With matching bathing suits, hairstyles, and sunglasses, it was hard to miss the Beach Babes. When the popular girls entered a room, everybody always stopped what they were doing to watch.

“Sorry we're late,” Mrs. Zafian said breezily. “Can the Beach Babes still do their act?”

Mrs. Marotta was annoyed, but she tried not to show it. She knew that Mrs. Zafian got pleasure out of ruffling people's feathers.

“Of course,” Mrs. Marotta said. “Go ahead. It's your turn anyway.”

Anne's dad lugged in the palm tree he had built and set it up on the stage. The girls got into position. Electronic hip-hop beach music came out of the speakers, and the Beach Babes did their lip synch dance number.

There's just one word to describe this act. It was awful. Just
awful
. The girls were stumbling around, bumping into one another, completely out of rhythm. Their fancy set, colorful costumes, and professional music couldn't disguise the fact that these girls had zero talent.

Except for Julia Maguire, of course. After six years of ballet lessons, she could hardly believe she had agreed to join this group just so she could be with the popular girls. She wanted to hide her face while they were dancing.

When the Beach Babes finished their horrible act, the back door of the multipurpose room opened and
another
group of girls came in. They were led by Jenny, the girl who had been kicked out of the Beach Babes. And like the Beach Babes, this group had matching bathing suits, sunglasses, and a fake palm tree. The tree, which was slightly bigger, was carried by Jenny's mother and Sergei Propopotov, the Russian choreographer.

“What's the name of this act?” asked Principal Anderson.

“We're the Sand Kittens!” Jenny announced.

“Hey, you stole our act!” Anne Zafian yelled at Jenny.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Jenny said. “Sue us?”

Mrs. Marotta rolled her eyes. She had seen a lot of spoiled, snot-nosed kids and overbearing parents in her time, but this topped them all. She didn't want to see a fight break out between the Beach Babes and the Sand Kittens, so she quickly instructed Jenny and her group to get up on stage and do their thing.