Crack Classic Rock Oneshots

Robert Plant x Roger Daltrey

A/N: ...what? That's a good pairing. Plantrey. Plus, classic rock musicians are beautiful princesses.

MAYBE I'M BORING BUT HEY LET'S REMIND THAT REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Enjoy!

--

Once upon a time there was The Who's band vocalist, majestic, one of a kind... The Hair.

The Hair, or — as his friends sometimes called him — Roger Daltrey, was walking thru the streets right after he had a fite with Townshend. So he was walking an walking an suddenly he stopped because somethin drew his attention.

The newspaper. He carefully read the headline, hoping that he misunderstood — but unfortunately there was no mistake.

They've written that... that... No, it was impossible... that Robert Plant is the most beautiful princess in the whole classic rock. Dun dun dun duun this is the time y'all gasp.

The blood in Daltrey's veins was on fire. Who dared to write these heresies?! He's going to beat the shit out of that person.

"I am the most beautiful princess!" he screameded and every1 in the street looked at him like he as an idiot well he was. "Plant, you fucker!"

"Did you call me?" Roger suddenly heard a Zeppelin's voice behind his back.

"You lil fucker, you've stolen my title." Annoyed musician threw the newspaper in Robert's face. They started to argue.

"People, come on, girls are fighting!" screamed someone from the street, but the blondes killed him with their eyes for death so he died deathly. Rip.

"I am the most beautiful princess!"

"No, I am!"

Suddenly Roger Taylor entered the center of this scene, nearly crashing into arguing musicians. He got off the car, brushed his hair back and spoke:

"I'll dispel your doubts who is the most beautiful princess here." He fell silent for a moment, to be more dramatic. "Me."

"Fuck off," the vocalists said in unison.

Then Magical Mystery Bus crashed through the wall of the nearest building. "Wait a minute," said Paul McCartney, sticking his head out of da window. "Were you talking something about princesses?"

So girls were looking at each other annoyed, ready to fight, ready to kill each other for the noble title, when suddenly Princess Gwen came in her pumpkin carriage carried by white stallions, threw a Texas Praire Chicken at them and drove away.

The rest shrugged.

"Okay," saideded Plant to the rest of the musicians gathered in a circle on a sidewalk, the best gathering evr lol. "Lets solve this like civilized man, not rock stars."

"Which means?" Macca risedd his purrfect eyebrow.

"Let's make a contest. Then we'll kno-" Everyone looked at the sky, interrupting Plant's words. The giantic prism appeared between clouds, dispersing white light into different colours (bc crackif magic), from which The One and Only Roger Waters majestically emerged with a sound of a harp in the background.

The bassist came to them slawly. "I see some contest going on here." He snapped his fingers. "I won. I don't need your applause. You can go home now."

There was a silence.

"You're fucked up," said Paul. "You can be a judge at most."

"Pfft," Floyd huffed. "I'll go along with this proposal, you miserable mortal man."

So the contest has begun in the middle of London city. Soon a big crowd gathered to wacth the musicians' duel, taking bets as if they were crazy.

Who do you cheer for?

"The first competition: embroiding. Dear contestants... you can embroider anything you want. The more fancy it'll be, the more points you'll get. Start!"

And so they took off! Needle to needle, stitch to stitch!

"Ladies and gentlemen, they rush like a summer storm! Who's gonna win? Who's gonna win? Roger Taylor has just finished! How shitty... uh, I mean great embroid!"

Soon the musicians finished and picked up their works proudly over their heads. Daltrey embroidered some cheesy flowers and that kind of shit, Roger Taylor his car (Brian cried disappointed very very), Plant dick and Paul his own face.

"The winner of this competition is... Robert Plant!" Roger Waters announced, to the irritation of the rest. "The next round: timed make-up!"

This time the battle was very tough. At some point Roger Taylor suddenly exploded.

Every1 screamd.

"Sorry," said Keith Moon, hiding a stick of dynamite into his pocket. "My fault." And then he left.

"Seems like we've just lost one contestant. Shame," horsey shook his head. Daltrey smiled widely and wickedly bc one enemy was out of his hair. Out of his hair, ya get the joke? lawl lawl.

"The time's over! Let's see what ya did."

Everyone had totally perfect make up, but Paul McCartney won unquestionably because his makeup was the best in the world. #Paul_x_mascara_is_real

Anyway, Roger Daltrey was very unhappy — it didn't look like he was gonna win. But still, he had a chance and he wasn't gonna let these lousy imitations of musicians win. The last competition was coming.

"Dance contest!" People applauded with an excitement. "You have to choose ur partner!"

Before Roger Waters had finisheded that sentence, John Lennon appeared next to Paul and Jimmy Page next to Plant. Daltrey felt much alone so he took a telephone out of nowhere and dialed Townshend's number.

"Hey, bitch, you have to dance with me."

"What."

"No time to explain. Come here."

So all the bootiful pairs started to dance. Everyone was spinning majestically through the dance floor, maybe except for Lennon, who was stepping on Paul's foot and ruined his score so annoyed Macca killed him and everyone cried.

While dancing, Daltrey was keeping his eyes on Plant. His delicate moves, his beautiful face. The more he watched, the more he believed that it was the Zeppelin, who deserved this title. Not him. Robert Plant.

"Fuck it," said The Who's vocalist. "This contest is pointless. Robert Plant is the most beautiful princess here."

Robert blushed deeply, hearing those words. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

They looked each other in the eyes.

"You know what?" Plant took Daltrey's hand insecurely. "Fuck this stupid contest."

"Hey, what about me?" said jealous Jimmy all of a sudden.

New happy pair ignored him and walked away towards the sun falling behind the horizon, painting sky orange, to shag- I mean, be together until the end of their lives. Jimmy Page ran away with a bottle of Jack Daniels, to drown his sorrows.

...

"I won!" Paul McCartney screamed.

THE END