A Collection Of Random Franzfics

studio au: YOU'RE OUT OF THE BAND

Nothing was ever quite right in the studio. The posters were hung unevenly. Things liked to fall off shelves. Someone's instrument always spontaneously fell or broke during practice. Galileo often accidentally destroyed something, or even someone. And Alex was always saying or doing things that just happened to be very dumb.

Today, he was kicking the other three members of Franz Ferdinand out of the band.

"You're out of the band, Hardy!" Alex shouted to Bob, who was across the studio watching minecraft roleplays.

"What?" Bob took out one of his earbuds.

"I put you on Craigslist!" Alex shrugged, staring at his laptop.

"Alex, no! You don't just do that!" Bob scrambled over to where Alex was sitting on the floor.

••

FREE BASSIST

a bit fat but otherwise lovely and very talented (Glasgow)

••

"You just put up that cat meme... But with bassist instead of kitten... Alex... YOU'RE OUT OF THE BAND!"

"Hey! I'm the frontman! You can't kick me out of my own band! The band you're not even in anymore! Only I can kick myself out!"

"Nick sings better than you, you know!"

Nick raced over from the corner, where he was previously drawing puppies.

"It's true!" He laughed.

"McCarthy, you're out of the band too!"

"Why, exactly?"

"Because Bob likes you and it makes me uncomfortable. Only I can decide who has good vocals. You kind of sound like a screaming twelve year old. Too many voice cracks. I just keep you in the back."

Paul walked into the room holding a ukulele.

"YOU'RE OUT OF THE BAND TOO, THOMSON!" Alex screeched, dive bombing the floor.

"Chill, Alex. It's just a ukulele. It can't hurt you. I can, though. But I won't."

"I hate those frickin ukulele fricks with their FRICKIN UKULELES!"

"Okay, SammyClassicSonicFan, I'm gonna go write some stuff up. Who's coming?" Paul suggested, placing his ukulele on the Cool Couch. Nick and Bob agreed and walked over to the Cool Couch.

The studio was some sort of organized chaos. Alex had his Banishment Corner. The Cool Couch was where they wrote songs, mostly.  The only reason it was called the Cool Couch is because that's what they all said when they saw it in that thrift shop down the road. No Macklemore intended. They also had an actual recording/practice space, but they rarely actually used that unless they were legitimately doing something, which was pretty unusual for the guys. They also had a cat tree for Bob's cat, Galileo. Next to the cat tree, there was a TV and an infamous Xbox where they played Castle Crashers, Just Dance, Mortal Kombat X, and an assortment of racing games. There was also a mini fridge for any late night snack runs, but it was mostly just filled with soda that Paul occasionally had chugging contests with.

"Ok, so, what should this song be--"

"GET OFF THE COOL COUCH!! Only band members are allowed on the cool couch!!" Alex shoved Paul off the couch.

"Have fun finding another drummer."

"And another bassist."

"And another pudding cup."

"FINE, OKAY, NICK'S BACK IN THE BAND."

Nick winked at Paul and sat on the Cool Couch.

"I'm gonna go check Craigslist." Alex started typing furiously on his laptop.

"Alex, you can't give me away." Bob tried to smash Alex's laptop, but failed.

"Some guy named Uncle Randy is picking you up in ten minutes!"

"W-Who's Uncle Randy?!"

"I don't know!"

"Paul, come on, you gotta hide me!"

Paul shoved Bob into the nearest closet and locked the door.

Ten minutes later, this "Uncle Randy" dude knocked on the door.

Alex opened the door.

"Hey."

"I'm here for a Craigslist cat? A bit fat but otherwise lovely and very talented?"

"We don't have a cat. We have a Bob, and I accidentally put him up on Craigslist."

"Why's there a cat tree then?"

"Seriously, we don't have a cat."

"Why?"

"Fine, his name is Galileo, but he isn't even here right now!"

"Alright, whatever."

Alex slammed the door and opened the closet.

"He wanted a cat, not a Bob."

"Why didn't you just give him Galileo?"

"Because he's your cat and you're my bassist and my best friend."

"Thanks, man." Bob stepped out of the dark, dusty closet and hugged Alex.

"You're back in the band, Hardy."

Paul turned around and death glared Alex. He was the only one still out of the band, and he wanted to fix that.

"I guess Nick's gonna be the drummer then, you know, since you don't already make him multitask in shows and he's so stressed to the point where he pukes backstage." Paul smiled.

"YOU'RE BACK IN THE BAND, THOMSON!" Alex cheered. He didn't like it when anyone brought up Nick's unhealthy level of stress.

"Alright, cool. Wanna go practice?"

"Of course!"