>>34865905
eh, shit happens

File: NO U.png (714 KB, 787x508)

714 KB PNG

>>34865905
The tour manager sags down in the armchair, gun pointed at the drummer's chest as he hisses "You Judas Priest!"

The priest is holding a knife to the manager's neck, one foot on the arm of the chair "You!" he roars.

It doesn't look like they'll make any progress on their own.

>[]What's going on here?
>[]Try to separate them
>[]Try to distract one of them
>[]Write-in

Twitter (for run time announcements): https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge

Archive (for catching up): http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Rock+Quest

>>34866032
>[]What's going on here?

>>34865905
>>[x]What's going on here?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PW-6FKFnHx8

>>34866032
Kiritsugu doesn't have a limp, though

>>34866032
>[x]Try to separate them
>[x]What's going on here?

>>34866171
I'm guessing this is Kerry after several years of the Grail mud curse (or its rock and roll equivalent) eating away at him.

>>34866171
>>34866233
Wait what.

>>34866242
The combination of QM using their pictures for his characters and not giving them any names.

>>34865905
Reading this op, my interest is immediately piqued.

>>34866205
this

>>34866032
>I'd prefer if my drummer and tour manager didn't kill each other.
>So what's your story?

>>34866032
"Of all the tour busses on all the roads in all the world," the priest says, "I get onto yours. Damn it."

The man in the chair visibly grinds his teeth. "If I shoot you now," he says, more calmly, "the show's over and everything falls apart. I'm still trying to decide if it's worth it."

"Remember how well shooting me worked last time," the priest says, smiling at him.

You feel like you walked in halfway through a movie. At least it's not a subtitles-only French flick.

"What's going on here?" you ask, as calmly as possible. You can assume these guys have some bad history together.

"The last time I saw this damned priest," the manager says, sweat rolling down his face in the cool room, "I shot him in the heart. For excellent reasons."

Well, he doesn't seem to be a demon.

>[]He's our drummer - can we deal with this after the show?
>[]He's probably changed since then - I've seen angels sing with him
>[]Priest, what's your side of the story?
>[]Write-in

>>34866585
>>[x]Priest, what's your side of the story?

>>34866585
>Tell me more, this sounds like an interesting story.

>>34866585
>[]Write-in
"Whoa now, start at the beginning, not at the end."
"Call someone in for popcorn, you're both explaining the story in depth, and unless you want your arms dead by the end of the story you're going to drop your weapons too."

>[]Priest, what's your side of the story?

I'd love to hear this story

>>34866585
>[]Write-in
"Now that you've spoiled the ending, let's hear the whole story."

>>34866585
Give me one single reason to not metagame like a motherfucker right now

>>34866811
Because it is better for the story if you don't.

>>34866585
>[]Priest, what's your side of the story?

>>34866869
He's serving it to me on a silver plate

>>34866727
Seconding that.

>>34866811
My bag of reasons is empty, and I think QMs co-opting characters from known works are asking for it.

What's your plan?

>>34866905
Does it matter? The optimal option is rarely the most entertaining.

>>34866921
"Do you think Shiro would approve?" would be something, but seeing as deluge has given us the option to hear the full story, I don't think it would work out as I intend it to work out.
Quest Masters are a sneaky race.

>>34867052
Just imagine Shirou tracing different instruments halfway through the concert and using them perfectly right off the bat.

>>34867135
Tracing violates copyright!

>>34866585
"Can we start the story at the beginning instead of the end?" you ask as you get up and sit on one of the beds. "And if you don't want your arms to get tired, I recommend putting the weapons down."

Neither of them move, or volunteer an explanation. You're going to have to be more pointed about this. "Priest," you say, "I can't have a drummer with tired arms, and I want to hear your side of the story."

Another tense moment ticks by, and then the priest drops the knife, raises his hands, and back away toward another chair. "The church wanted me out of that pulpit so I could go back to doing what I used to do for them. This guy was on the wrong side of one of those missions."

Once the priest sits down, the manager relaxes, and lets the pistol fall into his lap, although hs keeps his hand wrapped around it. "Was there a right side to that farce?," he asks, "You killed my wife, and you can see what that stuff did to me. How the Hell are you still alive?"

The priest sits there and grins. "Why," he says, an angelic look on his face, "God smiled on me."

"Bullshit," the manager says, levering himself out of the chair, "God doesn't smile." He tucks the gun away under his suit and limps toward the door. "I'll send a van around at three," he says, turning around with his hand on the latch, "Be ready."

Then he's gone, and you're left with even more questions. You don't think you'll get them out of the manager unless he's very drunk - the answers seem too sad for him to willingly drag them up from his memory.

A look at the priest gives you the distinct feeling that if you ask him, he'll just grin at you and spin equivocal half-truths.

>[]Ask the priest anyway
>[]Talk to the priest about the pyrotechnics
>[]Practice with Angus' guitar
>[]Get some more sleep
>[]Write-in

>>34867683
>>[x]Ask the priest anyway
Let's hear what he will bullshit.
>>[x]Talk to the priest about the pyrotechnics
Your show will be quite safe for us, right. Right?

>>34867683
>[]Ask the priest anyway

>>34867683
>[]Ask the priest anyway

File: 1410708695772.jpg (47 KB, 500x375)

47 KB JPG

Just started to read this last night. The scene with the drummer reminded me of this. I'll leave it for you to use.

>>34867755
>ask for pyro experience
>lol i burned sum vampires once
>alright, you're in charge of pyro

Ashes are pretty safe, Anon

>>34867683
>Talk to the priest about the pyrotechnics
"I want them pointed in a way that will protect us from an assault from the pit, to be used only as an extreme measure."

Bump.

File: He's A Bastard, But He's (...).png (385 KB, 703x800)

385 KB PNG

>>34867683
"So," you say, looking at the priest, "what happened between the two of you?"

"Like you heard," the priest says, smiling at you, "I'm the Sherlock Holmes to his Professor Moriarity. Now, do you want to hear about what I've been doing all night?"

"Sure," you say, "tell me about the pyrotechnics." You finally notice the smudges of grease and soot on his face and his bare arms. He's got a strange set of tribal tattoos running down his right arm.

"I personally oversaw the setup," he says, stripping off his shirt, exposing his muscular chest, "good crew, and I worked a decent placement for us - the main attraction is a wall of flame we can send up around the pit. No Rammstein-style ejaculating fire for you, I'm afraid," he says, tossing his pants into a heap atop his shirt, "I had them wire a control box where I can work it while playing tonight, and now I'm going to get some sleep" he says as he disappears into the shower.

Well, at least he didn't set up a system for roasting the entire audience alive.

You've four hours until the van will come to take you to the concert.

>[]Go see if your repaired guitar is ready
>[]Practice with Angus Young's guitar until the priest goes to bed
>[]Go to bed yourself, for the extra rest
>[]Get fucking wasted in a cheap bar
>[]Write-in

>>34868416
>[x]Go see if your repaired guitar is ready

>>34868416
>Go see if your repaired guitar is ready

>>34868416
>Go see if your repaired guitar is ready

>>34868416
>>[x]Go see if your repaired guitar is ready
And try to fit a small practise with it if there's any time left afterwards.

>>34868416
>[]Go see if your repaired guitar is ready

>>34868416
>[]Go see if your repaired guitar is ready
Getting some practice with your new guitar would be good too

File: The Stuff.jpg (80 KB, 480x270)

80 KB JPG

>>34868416
(1/2)
You must have missed the priest's abscence when you came in last night, but perhaps he's not the only one who pulled an all nighter? With that in mind, you wonder if your guitar's repairs might be finished already as you pull on your pants.

Godo's is much the same as it was yesterday, a profusion of instruments hanging all over the shop's front room, the kid behind the counter. Although you're pretty sure there's a smudge of soot on his face. He recognizes you, and tells you to follow him back into the workshop.

The workshop looks nothing like it did yesterday. Heavy tarps cover the stacks of wood, the power tools have grown spikes and glow with a fell inner fire and there's a furnace made of cinderblock burning in the center of the room, fueled by guitars, their necks savagely snapped to make them fit in the firebox. The smoke is coiling into words and phrases in a language you haven't laid eyes on before curling out of the open skylight.

Godo is hammering something on... ...is that an anvil? In a guitar shop? You watch him hold the glowing piece up with tongs to examine it, then throw it into a barrel full of a dark liquid, which hisses and boils as the piece sinks into it. You walk around, and see the words "Jack Daniel's. Lynchburg, Tenessee" burned into the side of the barrel.

Holy shit.

>>34869121
META VOTE:

>[]Understated guitar - we know its worth, and it's a great guitar, but it's a sleek, classic design
>[]Head-turning guitar - it's a cool guitar, obviously a custom job
>[]XXXTREME GUITAR - look, you don't need an explanation

Write in any design elements you want on the guitar with your answer. I won't get them all, but ideas are always good.

>>34869294
DOUBLE HEADED GUITAR

>>34869294
>[]Head-turning guitar - it's a cool guitar, obviously a custom job
Shaped like a cross with the words "In rock we trust" along the bottom

File: lespaul.jpg (191 KB, 740x489)

191 KB JPG

>>34869294
>[]Understated guitar - we know its worth, and it's a great guitar, but it's a sleek, classic design
At first glance it simply looks like a bone-coloured Les Paul, but there's power hidden within it waiting to be unleashed.

File: Berserk v17 p198.jpg (228 KB, 1072x442)

228 KB JPG

>>34869121
Fuckin' hell it's that Godo isn't it?

>>34869294
>[X]Head-turning guitar - it's a cool guitar, obviously a custom job
Also, how about we have the bones of the demons we killed used for the tuning knobs?
>>34869368
I also support this suggestion.

>>34869294
>[]Head-turning guitar - it's a cool guitar, obviously a custom job
good old "V" design, neck made of metal, body looks red and white.
the catch? the guitar itself is white, all the red is blood runes

>>34869396
Of course. Our guitar is now too big, too thick to be called a guitar. It is more like a huge slab of iron.

>>34869294
>[]XXXTREME GUITAR

All these mutually-incompatible design suggestions.

This is as bad as letting questers name characters.

>>34869294
>>[x]Head-turning guitar - it's a cool guitar, obviously a custom job

File: Spoiler Image (106 KB, 600x404)

106 KB JPG

>>34869294
>Head-turning guitar
heh

>>34869294
>Understated guitar - we know its worth, and it's a great guitar, but it's a sleek, classic design

>>34869121
(1/2)
Godo wipes his hands on his thick shop apron, then turns toward you. "Give it another half hour for assembly," he says, jerking his head at a table with guitar pieces and other strange things spread over it, "it's not my best work, but it's decent." His eyes flicker to the empty pegs on the wall, spaced too far apart for any guitar you've ever heard of, and then he turns back to his work.

You stand back and watch as he fishes the small piece of metal out of the barrel of Jack. It turns out to be the last tuning key. If Godo is hand-forging the tuning keys, you can only wonder what kind of work has gone into the other pieces. And he says this isn't his best work? You can only imagine what kind of monstrous instrument that would be.

Your guitar is half-assembled on a work table covered in scrawled writing in a language you don't know. The peeling paint has been stripped off the V-shaped body, and the wood has been sanded, stained, and polished to bring out its inner lustre, then coated with a clear sealant. The cracks have been filled with jagged white pieces of demon bone.

Demon bone seems to be ductile, since Godo appears to have flattened out the face of one of the skulls and mounted it in the body so that the bridge, its saddles worked from knocked-out demon teeth, forms its lower jaw. The horns are still attached, and jut out of the guitar's body at an angle, a few inches below the neck join. The fretboard is inlaid with tiny white letters, doubtless carved from demonbone scraps, spelling prayers, imprecations, and dirty jokes in Latin. The frets themselves are tempered steel, like the tuning keys.

The agressively-shaped head is disassembled - it's a hollow piece of metal, filled with the gears of the tuning mechanism, and empty space carved out to lessen the guitar's weight. "In rock we trust" is engraved on the side. It's waiting for Godo to slot the last tuning key in.

>>34870389
(2/2)
You watch him put it all together and lock it down. He shows you how to open it if you ever need to correct the simple mechanism yourself, and you realize that you could probably use the head of your guitar as a small secret compartment.

It takes him longer than expected, so once you finally get your hands on it, you don't have much time to practice, but you sling it on strum a few chords in the workshop. The sound is wonderful - it's still got its heart of chrome. It doesn't feel much different, it feels more like itself than it did, if that makes sense. It doesn't, but you're a rock god - you're allowed to not make any sense. Leave it to the fans to interpret your lyrics for years after your death.

Except you'll never die.

There isn't much time left when you get back to the hotel room. It's dark, and you can hear the priest's deep, even breathing.

>[]Observe sleeping priest
>[]Awaken priest with rock
>[]Look for the DJ
>[]Write-in

>>34870422
>[x]Awaken priest with rock
>[x]Look for the DJ

>>34870422
>[]Observe sleeping priest

And then >>34870493

>>34870422
>>[x]Awaken priest with rock

>>34870422
>[]Awaken priest with rock

>>34870493
this

>>34870422
It's sometime after two in the afternoon, right? Rock and roll ain't noise pollution, but people often mistake it for that late at night. Right now, though, nobody should have an issue.

You swing the guitar forward, feeling its weight through the shoulder strap. The horns are angled so that they don't get in your way, which was your main worry about the new design.

It's time for the real trial run.

With no warning, you launch into a scorching guitar solo, fingers hammering up and down the frets. Sparks dance from your fingers to the forged fittings, lighting up the dark room with small blue flashes.

The priest levitates three feet off of his bed, then flails onto the floor, taking the sheet with him. He glares at you from the floor as you stop playing and fiddle with the tuning keys.

"We've got less than an hour," you say, as you alternate between tightening the tuning keys and picking the strings. You want to get it just right.

The alarm clock starts going off - apparently you only beat it by a few minutes.

And it was completely worth it.

A door to the other room in the suite opens, and Cliff Williams' head pokes into the room. "So I hear you got a new guitar," she says.

...That's a really good mask the DJ is wearing.

>[]I see you got a new mask
>[]Just got my old one repaired
>[]How was mask shopping?
>[]Excited for the show?
>[]Write-in

>>34871316
>[x]Just got my old one repaired
>[x]How was mask shopping?

>>34871316
>>[x]Just got my old one repaired
As miiiiight be obvious.
>>[x]Excited for the show?

>>34871316
>[]Just got my old one repaired
>[]How was mask shopping?

>>34871316
>Excited for the show?

>>34871316
"No," you say, smiling, "just got the old one repaired. How was mask shopping?"

"If you dont' count the creepy shop that wanted three hairs and a drop of blood from everyone you wanted a mask of, it went pretty well," she tells you. It's disconcerting to hear her young voice from the unmoving latex lips of the late band's bassist.

If someone had told you a week ago that you'd be in a dark hotel room with a young lady wearing a Cliff Williams mask a week from now, you would have laughed them off.

"Excited for the show?" you ask, as she pulls the mask off. Thank God.

"Mostly nervous," she says as she folds the mask, "I've been working on building loops and setting up my synth so I can handle the rhythm guitar and bass ACDC uses, or used, oops."

Now that she's taken off the mask, you realize that she's looking past you as she talks. You turn, and see the priest zipping up his pants. Damn, but he's got some defined abs, and it can't just be genetics. He's obviously worked hard for those.

"I'm not preaching right now," he says, smirking, "your salvation doesn't depend on how much attention you're paying to me."

That's the last laugh your band has for a long time. The next several hours pass in a haze of sound checks, stage tests, choreography, costuming, light checks, a brief test of the pyrotechnics (which you unfortunately miss), and a little bit of practice on your ACDC covers.

Then, all too soon, you're waiting in the wings, sweating under your latex mask, remembering Brian Johnson's voice, listening to the noise of the crowd, and trying to remember how to duck walk.

Then you get the signal, and it's time to take the stage.

>[]You are Angus Young and Bon Scott rolled into one, and you're back in black
>[]You are a humorous Angus Young impersonator, and you're on the razor's edge
>[]You a rock god wearing an Angus Young mask
>[]Write in

>>34872341
>[x]You are Angus Young and Bon Scott rolled into one, and you're back in black

Let's do it for the real Angus

>>34872341
>[x]You are Angus Young and Bon Scott rolled into one, and you're back in black.
But never forget,
>[x]You a rock god wearing an Angus Young mask

>>34872443
>[]You are Angus Young and Bon Scott rolled into one, and you're back in black

>>34872341
>[]You are Angus Young and Bon Scott rolled into one, and you're back in black

File: 1407506752725.jpg (131 KB, 720x540)

131 KB JPG

>>34872341

>Bon Scott... ...and you're Back in Black

Wasn't that the album they did after Bon died, as a memorial?

>>34872341
>You a rock god wearing an Angus Young mask

>>34872341
You have 3/5ths as many members as the real ACDC, but you've got the skill and the burning hatred of them all burning in your vocal cords and your fingers. There's an easy, familiar feeling the the schoolboy outfit as you duck walk out onto the stage to the first few drumbeats of Back in Black.

The crowd is huge. If you weren't a rock god, you might have stage fright, but a massive audience just excites you. It's a moving sea of faces, color, and blinding stagelights. There's an angry buzz, doubtless caused by the keyboard on the stage, and the conspicuous lack of two members of the band, but it dies as they hear Bon Scott's voice sing the song his band wrote as a tribute to him.

Yeah, you can do the voices, if the stakes are high enough.

And tonight the stakes are as high as you've ever seen them. The house is packed out, and you've stunned everyone old enough to recognize the voice. The priest is easily handling the simple percussion, the DJ is holding down the rhythm guitar and bass parts, and it briefly crosses your mind that if you have to cover a high-profile rock act, ACDC's the one to do, since the instrumental parts are usually so simple.

You're doing a decent job with Angus' guitar, but you really wish you were using your own, and you're not used to playing with a hookup.

>[]Scan the crowd for familiar faces
>[]Go over the top with your theatrics
>[]Just play the song, and play it well (what, don't you have the biggest balls of all?)
>[]Write-in

>>34873215
>[x]Scan the crowd for familiar faces
>[x]Just play the song, and play it well (what, don't you have the biggest balls of all?)

>>34873215
>[x]Just play the song, and play it well (what, don't you have the biggest balls of all?)

No time to faff about

>>34873215
>[]Scan the crowd for familiar faces
>[]Just play the song, and play it well (what, don't you have the biggest balls of all?)

>>34873290
>>34873334
>>34873363
So you guys have small balls?

>>34873215
>[]Go over the top with theatrics

>>34873215
>Go over the top with your theatrics
We're going to upstage AD/DC, and the crowd will like it

>>34873215
You've got to cement your reputation, you've got to do this right. You've got to nail the song. You concentrate on your technique, you feel the rhythm run through you. Your hands start to remember this guitar from the lessons Angus gave you - this is the guitar he was thinking of. You're playing for him, for the whole band, for every one of those poor suckers who sold their souls for rock and roll.

But rock concerts aren't just the music, not just the lights and the crowd, and Angus in particular was always a stage clown. The duck walk is just the beginning of his bag of tricks. They've set up platforms on the stage, and you make the jump as you pick out the guitar solo, to the delight of the crowd. You could go crazier, but you're focusing on your sound.

You sneak a couple of searching looks into the crowd, but you don't recognize anyone. Who would be here that you could recognize, anyway?

It's the music for you, and you for the music, moving from song to song, the perfect guitarist. It might be harder than it looks, but you're making it look damn easy.

They crowd seems to be ok with you, but there's no real high voltage out there, the way there was when you first hit Bon's voice.

>[]Look a bit harder for a familiar face - weren't the blonde and the old guy coming?
>[]Angus would be laughing at you, while he spasmed on the ground - time to kick up the theatrics
>[]Continue playing ACDC's mechanically simple songs with the utmost attention to getting the perfect sound
>[]Write in

Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>34874174
>[]Angus would be laughing at you, while he spasmed on the ground - time to kick up the theatrics

Time to Rock 'n Roll, Baby!

>>34874174
>[]Angus would be laughing at you, while he spasmed on the ground - time to kick up the theatrics and time to switch for our guitar

>>34874174
>[]Angus would be laughing at you, while he spasmed on the ground - time to kick up the theatrics

Also switch out the guitar

>>34874174
>[X]Angus would be laughing at you, while he spasmed on the ground - time to kick up the theatrics
>Maybe sneak in a few other glances towards the crowd.

>>34874174
It's time to prove you've got big balls. There's another riff coming, and you collapse like you've been thunderstruck, and hammer the riff out while going into fits on the floor. Classic Angus. The crowd eats it up.

Once you finish the riff, you jump back, and you're constantly in motion, head jerking to the beat, legs swinging wildly, manic energy incarnate.

Then you get an idea. Your drummer's just sitting there, right? And he's pretty muscular, as you've seen. Without warning, you duck walk behind the priest and jump onto his shoulders without missing a note. You almost can't believe you did it. It's even harder to believe that the priest kept his rhythm, but he did.

That's a fun solo, playing sitting on the priest's shoulders, and the crowd loves it, but you can't help but wonder if you could go bigger. The verse starts, and you bring one foot up onto the priest's shoulder.

Then you're standing on your drummer's shoulders, belting out the song and strumming Angus' sweat-soaked guitar, spotlight lighting up your swaying two-man tower.

It's good the be a rock god, you think, as a sudden breeze blows through your hair and the crowd roars. Your schoolboy cap comes off and falls so the stage, rotating comically.

>[]Time for the final Angus-ism - the striptease
>[]Enough being ACDC, it's time to flick the switch
>[]You haven't gotten in the front row's grill yet - time to get up close and personal with the crowd
>[]Write-in

>>34874887
>>[X]Time for the final Angus-ism - the striptease

>>34874887

>[]Time for the final Angus-ism - the striptease
>[]You haven't gotten in the front row's grill yet - time to get up close and personal with the crowd

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>34874887
>[]Time for the final Angus-ism - the striptease

Where is that "there was a time we should've stopped, and we've clearly passed it. So let's keep going..." pic when I need it?

File: Oficially Past The Point.jpg (111 KB, 1058x705)

111 KB JPG

>>34874887
>>34875212
>[]Striptease

File: 1408731937528.jpg (100 KB, 1058x705)

100 KB JPG

>>34875212
Here ya go

File: Gh3_god_of_rock.png (156 KB, 576x360)

156 KB PNG

>>34875273
>>34875278

Thank you gentlemen, may the God of Rock smile upon you and regale you with epic Solos

>>34874887
You jump from the priest's shoulders onto the center of the stage and stick the landing, to a swell of crowd approval. You wonder what to do next.

Then it hits you - the final Angus-ism.

The striptease.

There's only one problem. You've only got drums and a synth to back you up. You want at least a guitar, and you can't play and strip at the same time. So it's time to get down in the front row's faces. You strum the guitar bent half-over, legs jerking to the beat as you pace the front of the stage, asking the crowd for someone who can play the guitar.

You catch a familiar face in the crowd. The old man from the hotel breakfast, the personnel consultant, is down in the first few rows, and he's raising his hands.

The crowd's passing forward another few candidates. Nothing much sticks out about them - there's too much confused motion to see anything. You wish you saw the blonde.

>[]Take the old personnel consultant
>[]Anyone but the old guy

>>34875817
>Take the old personnel consultant

>>34875817
Take the old dude.

Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>34875817
>[]Anyone but the old guy

We're making our first big show, what we do here will define our reputation for a long time.

>search the crowd a bit more, that chick from breakfast should be around.

>>34875817
Take the old guy, If you wait too long it won't have the same impact

>>34875817
>[]Take the old personnel consultant

>>34875817
(1/2)
You gesture at the old guy, the first few ranks of the crowd part like the red sea, and you haul him up on the stage. He's wearing a very Old West outfit, complete with leather duster. You're not sure it's exactly the right aesthetic, but it is getting rather chilly as the night wears on.

You take off Angus' guitar and help him put the strap on. He strums an exploratory chord - seems to know what he's doing. "Keep it slow," you tell him, as you turn back toward the audience.

Great, now that you've got the proper musical backing for your sensuous display, you can get back to getting your dirty deeds done dirt cheap.

You move in time with the rhythm over to one side of the stage, and roll your shoulders to loosen your schoolboy jacket. The old man's pretty decent, but he's just providing a canvas for your performance. You grab one cuff and start to pull it down your arm. The crowd rumbles as it realizes what you're about to do. You stop, turn, and raise your eyebrows at them. Inside a mask. Well, you can settle for tilting your head.

Finally, you take off one arm of the jacket, and then the other, bouncing to the beat. You skip the length of the stage, whirling the jacket around. Once you reach the end, you swing the schoolboy jacket between your legs, and grab the rest of it behind your back, pulling it taut against your crotch.

Then you hump your jacket.

It feels good, the roar of affirmation from the crowd. You look at them, cocking your head humorously, then start whirling the jacket over your head. you let it fly into the crowd, then walk across the stage, coming up on your toes every beat, and fiddling with your tie. The art of striptease isn't in the stripping, it's in the tease. You've got to make them wait, make them want it, make them think you're going to give it to them, then hold it back at the last second.

You finally finish fumbling with the tie, and let some lucky fan in the crowd on this side of the stage have it.

>>34876555
(2/2)

Now it's time for the moment of truth.

>[]Full Monty - get naked
>[]Classic Angus - moon the audience and be done with it

>>34876555

Classic Angus

Gotta be a tease

>>34876589
>[]Classic Angus - moon the audience and be done with it
Naked gets you kicked out of to many places

>>34876589

>Classic Angus

>>34876589
>[]Classic Angus - moon the audience and be done with it

File: Completely Trustorthy And(...).png (47 KB, 349x279)

47 KB PNG

>>34876555
As you turn to take center stage, you notice the old guy watching you, a little more intently than you'd like - he should be paying attention to the music. It makes you nervous.

You slowly unbutton your shirt as you walk to the center of the stage, stepping with the beat. But, once you reach the middle, you don't turn to show off your chest to the audience, no, you turn your back on them.

They know what's coming.

You bend over, and put both thumbs inside your waistband. You slide the shorts down a bit. Then you pull them back up, and look over your shoulder at the crowd. The swell of noise coming off the crowd lets you know that you had them fooled - they thought you were just going to up and do it. No, that would lack class.

Now you're going to do it.

You slide the shorts down, mooning the crowd, and mouth "flip the switch" at the priest. The roar of fire swallows the crowd's swell of amusement at your backside, and a fifty-foot curtain of flame shoots up between you and the audience. The shorts split in half, and you notice a hole in the stage. Huh, you dont' remember seeing it before, but maybe your antics ripped up the tape they had covering it or something.

Anyway, you've got to move fast. You rip off the mask, rip off the shirt, rip off the remains of the shorts and underwear, and wad them all into a ball as you run for the backstage. The fire's only going to last for so long. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the drummer and the DJ beginning their own transformations.

You toss your bundle backstage and grab a pair of gray suit pants, already fitted with a stylish black belt. You pull them on in record time and slip into a pair of dress shoes. You grab your guitar and head back for center stage.

>[]Ignore the old guy - he'll figure out something
>[]Instruct the old guy to (write-in)
>[]Instruct the old guy to get off the stage - he hasn't practiced with you yet, and he's a liability
>[]Write-in

>>34877172
>>[]Instruct the old guy to (write-in)
Rhythm guitar you dont have to play fancy that's my job.

>>34877172
>[]Ignore the old guy - he'll figure out something
Where did you find that pic?

>>34877172
>[]Instruct the old guy to get off the stage - he hasn't practiced with you yet, and he's a liability
This is our new shining moment, don't want anyone else to risk ruining the moment

>>34877172
>[]Ignore the old guy - he'll figure out something
Teach me how to be creepy mister old guy

>>34877172
an accountant, a personal consultant, a priest, and deadmou5 walk into a bar..

we are best band

File: what a crew.gif (2.97 MB, 390x245)

2.97 MB GIF

>>34877396
can you imagine the reactions we'd get when we get interviewed?

>>34877172
(1/2)
You decide to ignore the old guy - he'll figure something out, or maybe keep playing rhythm guitar. You don't have time to deal with him.

You face the curtain of flame, set your feet, and start to rock. You don't need a hookup, an amplifier, or a bank of speakers, no, you've got power in your hands, and it's coming out your fingers, lightning running through the strings and sparking off the horns of your rebuilt guitar.

The drummer and the DJ take their cue from you, laying a foundation of rhythm for you to set your flying house on when your soaring riff is over. The priest hits the control box, and the flame jets die from the inside out, revealing the stage.

File: Twelve Shots, Enough To K(...).png (61 KB, 445x280)

61 KB PNG

>>34878223
(2/2)
The crowd is silent. It's the moment of truth now. They know they haven't been seeing the real ACDC, but you've been providing enough of a show that they've gotten ok with it. This, however, is something completely new.

You lean back, thrusting the sparking guitar forward. Everything hinges on this opening impact.

Full-blown lightning bolts shoot from the horns of your guitar as you bring the opening riff to its final, colossal conclusion, the wall of scintillating sound crashing down like a wave. One touches a monitor, which promptly explodes, punctuating the end of the riff and heralding the beginning of the song.

It's a hard-driving narrative - motorcycles on the road, demons in busses, missions to rock the world, a condensed and embellished version of the story that brought you here. The priest is playing the flame jets as much as he's playing his drums, or are they wired to the DJ's loops? You can't tell, and you don't care. You've got give it all you've got, keep the rock flowing through you.

You hit the second chorus, and you've got the front rank of the crowd with you. It's a great feeling, hearing them sing it with you, and you're getting down, down in their faces, yelling at them yelling at you, yelling about the frustration of never being able to act on your dreams, and the release of being able to.

Then you notice you're playing alone.

You look over your shoulder, and you see the old man, a pair of six-shooters in his hands, holding the priest and the DJ at gunpoint.

Ah, fuck, the crowd didn't kill you, so the assassins are taking their shots. At least the crowd thinks it's all just part of the show.

>>34878238
Alright, it's been a fun 8 hours, but I'm burnt out, and I've got work tomorrow. Calling it here.

Next thread will open with the question of what to do about this creepy old man, and it definitely won't happen before Wednesday.

Twitter (for runtimes and announcements): https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge

Suptg (archive): http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Rock+Quest

STATS:

ROCK OFFS WON/CHALLENGED: 0/1
DEMON SCHLONGS SEEN: 1/???
ALIGNMENT: TRUE ROCK - "Rock is worth doing."

Feel free to ask any questions - I might not get around to answering them tonight, though.

>>34877324
I clipped a couple of wonderful faces from Zetman, which happened to fit this guy's description.

>>34878349
Awesome run as usual.
>Zetman
Dang the old guy went back to his old ways then? I stopped reading about the times he went into "I regret doing things the way I did them Zet, help me redeem myself yadayada" or something like that