The Rise of the Scream Queens

Fries

"The fuck? Why is Jay Z getting inducted into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame?" Marceline asked surprised. "He's a great fucking rapper but definitely not a rocker!"

"Marcy..." Bonnibel said with slight disappointment at her wife. "Is that really the part you're concentrating on?"

"I mean getting inducted is great," Marceline said. "But they really should make like a Hip-Hop Hall of Fame because it makes no sense for a rapper to be inducted with us." Bonnibel rolled her eyes in fake annoyance.

"You're such a doofus." Bonnibel said.

"But I'm your doofus." Marceline held Bonnibel's free hand in hers as the other had the letter of induction.

"Yes, you are." Bonnibel smiled and leaned in to share a kiss. Marceline thought back at how this happened, it was her third time being inducted into the Hall of Fame, the first time was with the Scream Queens, and the second on her own. If I form another highly influential band I'll beat Eric Clapton. Marceline thought.

...

It all started when she ran away from home. Well, not really. It was less Shosanna running from Hans Landa at the beginning of Inglorious Basterds and more her packing her things and leaving as soon as she turned 18 while her father was still at work. Where did she go? You may ask. Well, she was homeless for like two days during which she played street concerts on her bass and looked for a job. She eventually found one working at a music store where the owner literally just told her "The more you work, the more I pay. Text me when you'll be working." Of course, she worked almost all shifts which the owner was delighted about as it meant he got to be paid for doing literally nothing and letting Marceline do all the work. Once the owner trusted her enough to not be around while Marceline worked she started sleeping in the back and went to a gym nearby in the mornings to use the showers in there. At night, before going to sleep she played more street concerts so she could make more money. Best of all, she enjoyed both of these things. She got to listen to music in the music store and share her knowledge with the customers and at night she got money for practicing her instrument, once she was confident enough she started singing as well which tripled the money on her hat at the end of the day.

"Alright, this next song I actually wrote myself," Marceline announced to the small crows that had formed around her. "The lyrics really need some work, I'm not the greatest lyricist out there. But I like the tune." She started the hip-hop beat that she had made on her phone on Garage Band the night before and started strumming on her bass. Yeah, strumming on a bass she thought it was ridiculous but she didn't own a guitar.

Daddy, why did you eat my fries?

I bought them, and they were mine

But you ate them, yeah you ate my fries

And I cried but you didn't see me cry

Daddy, do you even love me?

Well I wished you'd show it

'Cause I couldn't notice

What kind of dad eats his daughter's fries?

And doesn't even look her in the eye

Daddy, there were tears there

If you saw them would you even care

She let the last chord ring out and the beat finish. After a second of silence, the crowd went wild, cheering and clapping. She then went on to play Everything Stays, a traditional folk song in her own style. After she was done with the set and was packing her things a dark-skinned girl with long undulated hair walked up to her.

"Your songs were amazing! Can I invite you to a coffee?" the girl asked. Marceline's stomach rumbled.

"Please." Marceline begged.

...

Keila watched in horror as Marceline demolished a giant piece of apple pie she had bought for Marceline.

"God, you're hungry!" Keila exclaimed.

"Yeah," Marceline said. "I only eat one meal a day rather than three."

"Why?" Keila asked.

"Cause I'm broke." Marceline said as she gulped down the coffee.

"I can help with that." Keila said and Marceline put down her coffee and stared at Keila. "Our bass player just left and we need a new one."

"Why'd she leave?" Marceline.

"He," Keila corrected. "And because our singer is a drunkard and he was sick of him."

"Looks like you need a new singer." Marceline mumbled as she grabbed the coffee cup again.

"If only there was a Lemmy." Keila smiled at Marceline and she stopped drinking and put her cup down again.

"You insult him by comparing us." Marceline stated.

"A Cliff Burton with an angelic voice then?" Keila offered.

"Thank you," Marceline said. "But that's still heresy." They both laughed together.

"So what do you think?" Keila asks.

"Imma need to hear you guys," Marceline answered. "What do you play?"

"I'm the lead guitarist." Keila answered.

"What are your band's influences?" Marceline asked.

"Let's see..." Keila thought for a second. "Metallica, Megadeth, Black Sabbath, Slayer, Exodus, Iron Maiden...Dio...Avenged Sevenfold, System of a Down, Motorhead, Alice in Chains...Slipknot, Deftones, Pantera."

"Metal's great but I'm more into punk." Marceline said then took a sip.

"Then bring punk to the band," Keila retorted. "We don't wanna be bounded by genres if you write a song we want to play it even if it's Salsa."

"What about Flamenco?" Marceline tested.

"Sure," Keila said with a smile. "We could do something cool with it like Innuendo by Queen." Marceline seemed satisfied with the answer.

"Can we arrange a jam session so I can make up my mind?" Marceline asked.

"Sure!" Keila exclaimed. "Does Thursday work for you?"

"I'll clear my schedule," Marceline answered then took out the pen she always carried in case she got an idea and wrote down her phone number on a napkin. "You can text me the rest of the details." Marceline said as she handed Keila the napkin.