So rather than continuing to fight, I opted to write more. Thought I'd include the climax of the scene here as an excerpt for your enjoyment. Ready?
The setup. They're in a bar. A dive. Definitely not a high-class place. And the band on the stage is the worst band in the entire world, who announced earlier that this was their first gig out of their garage. Chad and Dakota are trying to figure out what song the band is now playing. It seems familiar, but they're not sure.
“Hotel California,” she said. “They’re playing Hotel California.”
Cocking his head, he listened. Yeah, OK. Could be Hotel California. Could be a musical rendition of the death of a cat. “You sure?” he asked.
At that moment, somebody started to sing. The lyrics were definitely those of the classic Eagles tune. One of the night’s ‘special guests’ had joined the band on stage and was trying to sing harmony. At least, that’s what he thought they guy was doing.
Chad glanced around the table. Matt’s head was in his hands, his shoulders heaving just as Dakota’s had been moments ago. Dunc had pulled his shirt up over his head. And Bert was methodically slamming down the beer in his mug, refilling, and repeating the process with the speed of Superman chasing Lex Luthor.
Chad howled with laughter. He couldn’t help it. Between the sounds of the worst rendition of one of his favorite songs coming from the stage and the reactions of his buddies, there’d been no hope of holding back.
It looked like the band’s drummer noticed too. Without ceremony, the dude came out from behind his drum kit, climbed down to the floor in front of the stage, turned his back to the crowd, and dropped his pants.
Yes, the entire audience was being mooned by the giant, hairy, toothless drummer.
Dakota screamed. Dunc pulled his shirt down from over his head, followed Dakota’s gaze, then dove underneath the table. Matt fell out of his chair. And Bert just kept slamming down those drinks.