Take a sad song and make it better

Chapter Nine

John and George had been drinking away their troubles all afternoon. They had gotten proper pissed pretty quickly, as soon as they had finished their little heart to heart. They had spent the last few hours jabbering on about this and that, telling jokes - both bad a good jokes - and retelling some of their favourite stories from the Goons show. They had definitely put their troubles behind them for just a little while, and it was good while it lasted.

The pair had stopped drinking in order to sober up a little bit before their gig tonight, and at the moment they were strumming away at their guitars, just to make sure they could at least string a few notes together. George put his guitar down after spending awhile trying to get his fingers to cooperate with his brain.

"Oi Johnny? Do ya mind if I stay here tonight? Since Mimi is gone and all...."

George asked, his words still slightly slurred.

"Oh yeah alright mate. Paulie is stayin' to me thinks... You know... I've just been thinking.." John said, his voice trailing off.

"You should quit that mate, its a bad habit thinking is." George quipped.

"Shut it. Now.... I was thinking 'bout telling Paul tonight... About you know.. Me. I want to get it over with." John said, trying his hardest to put his words together coherently.

"Oh.. Well I suppose its better to get it out of the way. Tell him after I go to bed though, if he gets upset I don't want to hear about it." George said.

"Oh sure mate you get out the easy way! I don't want to hear him get angry about it either ya know. But I don't think he will get upset... We were wanking together the other day right, and he said Elvis instead of a bird! That there's a good sign don't ya think?"
"I dunno John. I think everyone fancies Elvis a least a little bit. Doesn't necessarily mean Paul wants you to put your cock in his arse." George replied, chuckling slightly. John grinned devilishly and replied.

"You know I don't want to just put my cock up his arse. His mouth would do the trick too."

"Oh John you're so romantic!" George said, laughing loudly.

"No but really, I do want some kind of emotional relationship with him..... Like what I have with Cynthia, but with Paul instead." John sighed heavily and stood up, swaying slightly.

"Well come on Georgie, let's go do our gig and then potentially fuck up our lives." He said in his London voice.

"Oh yes John that sounds spiffing, let's go." George said sarcasticly. The pair gathered their instruments and walked out of mendips.

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John and George stood outside the entrance to the cavern, their guitars at their feet and a ciggy in hand.

"I bet you £5 that Paul is already inside, and that he yells at you for getting us drunk and leading me astray." George said smirking, smoke escaping his lips as he spoke.

"You're on son, Paulie loves me deep down. He won't yell at his dear old Johnny." John replied. He flicked his cigarette butt to the ground and squashed it with the toe of his boot before he lent down to pick up his guitar. George followed suit, and the young teddy boys pushed open the heavy wooden door, revealing the steep concrete steps that lead down to the cavern. As they walked down the steps they were greeted with the familiar scent of the cavern, the mixture of sweat, beer, mildew and a slight waft of vomit. The smell seemed to soak into your clothing and linger for days. It was the smell of rebellion, loads of kids squished in together, dancing and listening to the devils rock and roll music. It was all very undesirable to parents. Johns Aunt Mimi and Paul's father would force them to shower and get changed before they were allowed any where near their caregivers. Georges parents were more lenient, having raised more children they understood a teenagers need to rebel and explore. Pete's mum would be used to it, she ran her own rock and roll club a few nights a week so the cavern represented nothing out of the ordinary for the best family. Stu lived on his own so he didn't have anyone to give a shit, the lucky bastard.