|Bret, Jemaine, and the Rogue Scissors
Author: HalfBloodPrincess123 PM
Murray gets the band a gig, but Bret needs a hair cut. This could get interesting. One-shot.Rated: Fiction K - English - Humor/Friendship - Words: 1,357 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 6 - Published: 07-06-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6116501
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"I'm here, Murray. You can see me."
"Bret, present," Murray confirmed as he made a note on his notepad.
"Right, Jemaine's present, right." Murray noted that. "Murray is also present."
Jemaine sighed. "Murray, do you really need to do that? Neither of us ever miss meetings."
"Yes, Jemaine, but Bret did last week, eh?"
Bret shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I quit the band, Murray. But I'm back now."
"'Quit the band', eh? And now you're back?" Murray wrote that down.
Jemaine clucked his tongue impatiently. "Yes, Murray. He does that a lot."
"Item one," The manager began, ignoring Jemaine, "I got you guys a gig. And there's gonna be record producers there, hmm?"
"No way!" Bret cried.
"Bret, it's probably some kind of mistake again. Remember the aquarium incident?" Jemaine pointed out, rolling his eyes.
"Hey, hey," Murray intervened, "That curly font is confusing. 'S', 'B', it's all the same! Sand could have been Band!"
"Right, yes, of course," Jemaine agreed with another eye roll.
"Anyway, guys, this is a big deal," Murray persisted. "I spoke to a guy on the phone. President Director of something… Yes, this is a big deal. And," He continued, "you can't sing 'Rock the Party'. And this gig has to be good."
"Murray!" Bret chided, "Our gigs are always good."
Jemaine's eyelids drooped and closed.
"Jemaine, you've nodded off. Jemaine to earth," Murray said, waving his pen in front of Jemaine's sleeping face.
"Murray, that's 'earth to Jemaine'," Bret pointed out.
"Yes, yes. Jemaine, wake up."
"Jemaine! Wake up! It's nap time!" Bret said, shaking Jemaine's shoulders.
Jemaine woke up instantaneously. "Nap time?"
"Anyway. Item two," Murray said impatiently. "Bret. Your hair is too long. You need a hair cut before the gig."
"When's the gig?" Bret asked grudgingly.
"A week from Friday."
Murray checked his list again. "Item three. Jemaine, don't you cut Bret's hair. It would look stupid."
Jemaine looked hurt. "But Murray, I cut it good last time!"
"Meeting adjourned, guys, gig on Friday," Murray hurriedly said. "I'll call you."
"Bye, Murray." Bret got up and walked towards the door. Meanwhile, Jemaine was falling asleep again.
"Jemaine!" Murray called. "Jemaine, I said adjourned."
Jemaine snored once.
"Jemaine, do you know the definition of that? Eh?" Murray pulled a dictionary out of his desk drawer and flipped through it. "It's gotta be in here somewhere…" He frowned and put the dictionary away. "Anyway, it means 'over'."
Jemaine snored again.
Murray got out of his desk chair and shook Jemaine's shoulders.
"Huh? What? Can I go now, Murray?"
"Well, actually-" Murray stopped. "Yes. Yes, you should go follow Bret. Eh?"
Jemaine shuffled out of the room.
He came back in the room. "The thing is, Murray, I can't find him."
"Who can't you find? Greg? I'll intercom him." Murray pressed the intercom button. "Greg? Greg, Jemaine-"
"No Murray, not Greg. I don't care about Greg. Where's Bret?"
Jemaine left again and soon caught up to his band mate.
"Bret, you left me alone with Murray."
"Well, you fell asleep, man," Bret said as the two of them walked down the street.
"There's Mel," Jemaine muttered, quickening his pace. Bret fell into step with him. "Be quiet, man. Look forward."
Both Bret and Jemaine groaned. "Hi, Mel."
"Hey Jemaine! Hi Bret! Ironic running into you here, huh!"
"Yeah, ironic," Said Jemaine, thinking that she was probably hiding by Murray's office, waiting for them to emerge.
"I heard you guys got a really important gig! That's terrific!" Mel said, stepping closer to Jemaine. He nonchalantly stepped away.
"Uh, yes. Where did you hear that? Murray's only just told us."
"Word on the street," Mel said, lovingly stroking Bret's arm.
"Erm, right." Bret said uncomfortably, trying to step away.
"Bret, your hair is too long," Mel said, fingering the dark-brown mess that was his hair.
"I'm getting it cut."
"Really? Where?" Mel said persistently.
"Erm. A hair cuttery."
"It's called a barbershop, Bret, and I thought I was cutting it." Jemaine said, looking slightly hurt.
"Oh, yeah. That."
"Well, I have to go now… I'll see you guys soon!"
"Bye, Mel." Bret said glumly.
When Bret and Jemaine got to their flat, Jemaine found the scissors under the remains of a sandwich in the refrigerator.
"Bret, sit in that chair-" Jemaine realized they sold the chair to Dave's pawn shop- "Er, on the couch."
Bret obediently sat down. "Just don't make it look stupid."
"Yes, Bret, I'm going to give you a mullet."
Bret reeled in disgust.
Jemaine rolled his eyes. "I won't make it look stupid."
He took a piece in his hand and cut the ends off. Rather well, actually.
"All right, man?" Bret asked nervously.
He cut another piece.
"What? What'd you do?" Bret asked, panicking. He jerked his head around and felt the back of it. "Oh, no."
"Bret, it'll grow back-"
"Not by Friday, it won't." Bret got up and ran to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and groaned.
"Jemaine, this is worse than the last time!"
"Actually, I think it could be a new style-"
Bret had a bald spot on the side of his head, about an inch around.
"Jemaine, you cut Bret's hair! What did I tell you! Now you've made me mad!"
"Nah, Murray, you're not mad," Jemaine said, tuning his bass. He knew that if Murray was mad, things were not good.
"Yes I am mad! You've ruined the band, you know you have!"
"It's okay, Murray, I'll just hold my hand there during the gig-" Bret cut in.
"You can't hold your hand there and play guitar at the same time!"
"Yes, good point… Yes, good point."
Murray sighed. "You didn't think of wearing a hat?"
Murray straightened his tie. "Whatever, guys. Just play a good gig and Bret, turn your head to the right so you can't see the bald spot."
Bret nodded as he and Jemaine walked towards the stage to a full audience.
"One, two, three, four-" Bret counted off.
"All the hotties at the party.."
After 'Rock The Party' Bret and Jemaine left the stage.
"Guys, what are you doing? I said to not sing 'Rock The Party'!" Murray cried as Bret and Jemaine came to the backstage area.
"Oh, but I thought you said to sing 'Rock The Party'." Bret said.
"Excuse me, are you Bret McKenzie and Jermin Clement?"
Bret and Jemaine turned around. "It's Jemaine. But yes."
"Splendid. My name is Robert Wexley, and I represent Turnidup Records. I think you have a great sound, but the look… No, it's not the right time." The man said, shaking both Bret and Jemaine's hands.
"What? What's wrong with us?" Bret asked, nervous.
"Mr. McKenzie, don't take this personally… But it's your hair. It's weird. Anyway, I have places to be and people to meet and deals to sign, so if you'll excuse me."
Robert Wexley left the venue.
"Jemaine, I knew this would happen!" Murray said in an angry voice. "See, you've ruined all the band's chances!"
Bret hadn't come out of the bathroom, except to get food, since the last gig.
Which was a week ago.
Jemaine knocked on the door. "Bret?"
"I have a burger for you… Want me to bring it in?"
Jemaine opened the door and gave the burger to Bret, who was sitting, fully clothed, in the shower, with the water on.
"Bret, you're using a lot of water. You think you could possibly sit and cry without being wet?"
"I'm not crying."
"Oh." Jemaine paused. "Yes, right. Yes. Okay." He left Bret to his tears(even though Bret wasn't crying).
It was going to be a long week.