Ok so this is a one-shot anout Jasper and Nessie. It is a companion to my other story, Emmett's Bedtime Story. You don't have to read that first, but if you don't, the end of this story will ruin the ending to the end of Emmett's story, so I would reccomend reading it first. Nessie is pretty young in this. I don't own Twilight or anything that has to do with Elvis Presley.

Jasper POV

It was a Saturday night, and most of the family was out hunting. Alice and I were lying on our bed, watching TV when there was a knock at the door. I was glad for the interruption – Alice was watching some stupid fashion show.

"Come in," I called wondering who it could be.

The door opened and Nessie walked in.

"Hey, Ness," I said. "What can I do for you?"

"Where's Momma?" she asked.

"She's out hunting."

"Where's Daddy?"

"Out hunting with your Momma."

"Well, then, where's Uncle Emmett?"

"He's out hunting with Auntie Rosalie."

"Oh. Can you tell me a bedtime story?"

"Um . . . sure," I agreed.

Until this time, Alice had been engrossed in her TV show. I'd actually thought she hadn't even acknowledged Nessie, but when I agreed to tell a story, she immediately turned off the TV and got ready to listen.

I could only think of one child-appropriate story to tell, so I began to tell it.

"Once upon a time, there were four teenagers named Sadie, Richard, Debbie and Jim. They were seventeen years old and best friends. The only problem was that they were bored out of their minds. They lived in a rather small town where there was nothing for teenagers to do. Little kids could play with friends, go swimming or go to the kids' center, and adults could go partying or to a bar, but there was nothing for them to do."

"Uncle Jasper?" Nessie asked.

"Yeah?" I answered, a little irritated that she'd interrupted me.

"What's a bar?"

"Um . . . it's a place where adults go to um . . . well, yeah, they just go there," I said, trying to come up with an answer that her parents wouldn't kill me for telling her.

"Can I go?"

"No, sweetie, you're too young."

"Oh, okay."

I continued with my story.

"One day, the four friends were hanging out at Richard's house when Debbie had an idea.

'I know what we can do!' she exclaimed.

'What?' asked the other three in unison.

'We can start a band.'

They all agreed that it was a good idea, and after much thought, they decided to call themselves 'The Rock Band.'"

"Wow, that's creative," Alice commented.

"Shut up, Alice," I said, then continued on.

"For two years, the band members tried to write their own songs, and for two years, the band members failed to write their own songs. After two years of failure, they decided to sing songs that other bands had already created. They found some cool rock songs, asked the artists for permission to use them and began to practise."

"They knew all the singers?" Nessie asked, amazed.

"No. They e-mailed them."

"Where did they get the e-mail addresses?"

"Online. I don't know. Why don't you just listen?"

"Okay."

"Finally, when the members of the band were twenty-two years old, they got a gig at one of the local bars. They went and played all their songs, and the crown loved them. For about a year, they got gigs almost every weekend. They even had a few out of town!

One day, instead of cheering, the crowd booed and threw tomatoes at The Rock Band. When they discussed it later that night, they decided that they needed to find some new songs.

The looked, but they couldn't find that many new rock songs that were easy to play and they could get permission for, so they decided to sing other types of music, too. They started to sing jazz, country, metal and other types of music. Still, the crowd loved them, especially since they began to switch things up every two or three weeks.

One day, when they were looking for new songs to play, they came upon an old Elvis Presley song."

"Who's that?" Nessie asked.

"A singer from the 1950s. They called him 'The King of Rock.'"

"Is he dead?"
"Yes. Please just listen to the story."

"Anyway, since Elvis was dead and they couldn't ask his permission, they figured that it would be okay to use it. Besides, the song was right there for them to use, so why wouldn't they be able to use it?

They printed it out, along with the rest of the songs. When they were making photocopies, so all of the members of the band got one, Sadie noticed something in fine print.

She read it aloud, 'Those who use this song or any other Elvis Presley song in public will have to suffer the consequences. They will be faceless and emotionless forever. If you are wise, you will take this curse as a warning.'"

"Uncle Jasper, curses aren't real! Everybody knows that," Nessie said.

I was starting to get really annoyed with the interruptions, and Alice noticed. "Nessie," she said. "I think you should stop interrupting and let Uncle Jasper finish his story, okay?"

"Uncle Emmett lets me talk."

"I'm not Uncle Emmett," I said, and continued the story.

"None of the band members thought the curse was real. They thought it was just a joke, so they practised the song anyway.

On the night of their next gig, they decided to use the Elvis song as their grand finale. Little did they know, it would be their grand finale forever.

They played the song, and the audience loved them. When they were done playing, they stood on stage and waited, but nothing happened. So, they left the stage.

It was dark backstage, until a sudden green flash lit up the room. A disembodied voice said, 'I am the ghost of Elvis Presley. How dare you copy my song? Now you must suffer the consequences.'

There was another big flash, and the room went dark. The band members didn't say anything, because they no longer had faces and couldn't talk. That fact didn't bother them, since they no longer had emotions, either.

To this day, if they had feelings, they would still regret their decision to play the song."

Nessie just stared at me. "That was weird," she said. "I like Uncle Emmett's stories better. They're normal." With that, she got up and left the room.

Alice started to giggle.

"What?" I asked, irritated.

"Emmett's last story was about a gorilla playing tag."

I hipe you liked it - please review :)