Clogs for Paws

[What should've took 3 hours took]Seven [to get to the] Seas of Rhye

The day after one's first show is always a rough one. Sore muscles, scratchy vocal chords, an adrenaline hangover, an actual hangover, you name it, Freddie had it. Now he sat in the back row of the band's van using John's amp as a pillow and Roger tried to navigate unfamiliar roads with only minimal casualties and road rage. Brian, the werepoodle in Freddie's book, sat next to him and was in charge of navigation. Roger surprisingly listened to Brian's directions, only missing a turn a few times because something (or a hot girl) caught his attention. John sat behind Roger tallying up their almost nonexistent earnings from the previous night.

Their venue was an pub called Old Eliza, a pub known for their free music Tuesdays when they would give new bands a chance to play before a small audience. Freddie, John, Brian, and Roger, standing before a poster that Freddie designed that boasted their new band name, Queen, played the songs Keep Yourself Alive, Doing Alright, Mad the Swine, and Liar.

"I can't believe the audience actually booed when we played Mad the Swine," Freddie complained as he recalled the previous night, "What nerve they got!"

"Thank god for Liar," Brian said. Freddie remembered how the crowd started to cheer again after they started to play his song after Brian's failed one. He felt bad for his friend as a look of defeat washed over his face. Of course, as soon as he got a chance for a guitar solo, the old Brian that Freddie knew and loved was back.

"Darling, they don't know rock n' roll when they hear it," Freddie assured as he tried to rub his forehead in an attempt to lure his headache away.

Roger scoffed and argued, "That wasn't rock n' roll. That was Sunday worship."

"Weren't you the one who was excited to do the song because of the cow bell?" John pointed out. He dropped the coins he counted onto the floor and cursed under his breath.

Roger completely ignored John's comment and went on, "Oh, and don't get me started on that arseface who called me a woman!"

John, Brian, and Freddie laughed. After the show, a man came up to the band and started to hit on Roger as he dismantled his drum kit. Roger's reaction was the least thing that the man expected. After the whole interaction, the man left the pub in a huff vowing to never come back again.

"He was so rude after I corrected him!" Roger continued, "Told me I was a 'bloody wanker' and stormed out like a coward!"

"Probably because you called him a little cunt first, dear," Freddie said.

"Oh, don't defend the prick," Roger bickered.

Brian tapped the map he held and said, "You are going to have to make a right at the next light or you'll add another quarter hour on our travel time."

Freddie closed his eyes again and tried to will himself to sleep. He felt the van make a violent turn and his body sway into the wall of the van. Their equipment slid towards his face and he screeched and extended his arms and legs like a stretching cat to shield himself from being crushed.

"Shit!" John screamed as he blocked the stacked up tom drums from falling down on top of Freddie.

Freddie muttered a soft thank you and raised himself up to a seated position. He opened his mouth to ask what happened, but Brian interrupted him.

"Roger, the light was red!" Brian fumed, "We almost got hit!"

"I acknowledged the law and I thought we had enough time, which we did," Roger said.

"I was almost crushed, you twat!" Freddie yelled. John sternly nodded in agreement.

"That car was miles away," Roger said.

Brian rolled up the map like a newspaper and lightly hit Roger with it. "Not by the car," he corrected, "But by the stuff in the back."

Yes, listen to Mr. Astrophysics, Freddie thought.

Roger set his eyes on the road again. "What were we saying that we could change for the next performance again?" he asked.

Freddie internally giggled, Smooth, Rog, real smooth.

Brian cleared his throat and suggested, "We could— Roger, take a left after the record store— We could serve food and drink."

"I meant music, but I like the sound of bribing them with refreshments," Roger said.

John agreed, "They are motivated by their stomachs! We could, if I counted correctly, afford to give it out at our last show at Varndean College."

Freddie grabbed a piece of paper and sketched out a new idea for a poster advertising for their next gig. "Rock Band Queen at Varndean College! Don't Miss out on the music and..." he penciled out. As the band brainstormed over what to buy, Freddie doodled around the edges of the paper.

"Alright then, what could we do?" Brian asked the group.

"Popcorn is cheap, which is within our budget," Freddie suggested without looking up from his sketch.

"Cheap. Cheap is good," John mumbled to himself. Freddie felt Roger boil with contempt. The drummer was known to prefer the more luxurious in life. Like Freddie, Roger yearned for more.

"What about orange juice for drink?" Brian asked as he pointed something out to Roger in the road. The van bumped over something and Brian sighed.

Roger asked Brian, "Orange juice? Really?"

"Honestly, I would prefer milk," John said barely above a whisper.

"We know, Deaky," Brian said.

John spoke up and replied, "Logistically speaking, of course, orange juice would make more sense than milk. My apologies."

Freddie wanted desperately to reassure John in his opinion, but he pat his back and said, "Look at our little accountant go. Exactly what I was thinking."

Except not, because cost and numbers aren't my specialty, Freddie internally added.

"Well, why not try something less expensive than that?" Roger proposed, "What about water?"

Freddie slipped his hair and replied, "Darling, if I saw a rock n' roll band trying to bribe me to their show with a glass of water I would turn around and walk as far as possible in the other direction."

Brian, John, and Freddie laughed while Roger kept his eyes trained on the road ahead.

"If it isn't settled dears, at least the idea is now naked out in the open," Freddie said, "Now, what are we going to do about Mad the Swine?"

"I've got an idea, a little embryo of a song called Son and Daughter," Brian said.

Freddie pushed on, "Yes?"

Brian chuckled and asked, "How do you feel about another big guitar solo?"