(First off -- dammit, Acyl, I couldn't stop laughing. Kudos, man. That was awesome.)
* * *
"HELLO, PARAGON CITY!"
The crowd let out an inarticulate, enthusiastic roar.
The lone, solitary man on stage frowned and leaned closer to the crowd. He was wearing no microphone and there was no equipment on the stage with him, but his voice echoed across the open-air auditorium as though from fifty-thousand-watt speakers. "I'm sorry, what was that? I can't hear you!"
Another roar.
"That's better," the man said, nodding. "I can almost hear you now. Paragon City, are you READY to ROCK?!"
He waited half a beat while the crowed chorused "YES!", then raised his hands. The crowd fell quiet, anticipating. He pointed at the back of the stage, and a drum set appeared in a swirl of lights, followed immediately by a slim drummer dressed in black, bald and expressionless. The spotlights -- again with no visible source -- gleamed blue off his shiny dome.
Next the man spread his hands to either side, his back to the audience. Two more figures appeared, identical to the first; one held what could only be described as a bitchin' axe, the lights winking from the frets; the other held a mighty bass guitar, almost as big as he was.
The first man swung back around to face his audience and grinned. "Hold on to your seats, kiddies," he said in that booming voice. "I'm the One Man Band, and it's TIME TO ROCK!"
* * *
Next up: Axe/Willpower Tank
--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
* * *
"HELLO, PARAGON CITY!"
The crowd let out an inarticulate, enthusiastic roar.
The lone, solitary man on stage frowned and leaned closer to the crowd. He was wearing no microphone and there was no equipment on the stage with him, but his voice echoed across the open-air auditorium as though from fifty-thousand-watt speakers. "I'm sorry, what was that? I can't hear you!"
Another roar.
"That's better," the man said, nodding. "I can almost hear you now. Paragon City, are you READY to ROCK?!"
He waited half a beat while the crowed chorused "YES!", then raised his hands. The crowd fell quiet, anticipating. He pointed at the back of the stage, and a drum set appeared in a swirl of lights, followed immediately by a slim drummer dressed in black, bald and expressionless. The spotlights -- again with no visible source -- gleamed blue off his shiny dome.
Next the man spread his hands to either side, his back to the audience. Two more figures appeared, identical to the first; one held what could only be described as a bitchin' axe, the lights winking from the frets; the other held a mighty bass guitar, almost as big as he was.
The first man swung back around to face his audience and grinned. "Hold on to your seats, kiddies," he said in that booming voice. "I'm the One Man Band, and it's TIME TO ROCK!"
* * *
Next up: Axe/Willpower Tank
--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs