What would Rammstein say?

PT.12

Rammstein...in a Karaoke bar.

(Scene: a karaoke bar in San Francisco. Rammstein have finished their show there, and have unanimously decided to spend the evening here because of its 'All You Can Drink Jager Night', not for the Karaoke. Flake, Paul, Olli, Till, and Doom are seated at a table. Doom is perusing a dictionary-sized binder of song selections.)

Doom: I do not believe they don't have a single Cannibal Corpse song.
Olli: -Or Cradle Of Filth.
Paul: Or Oomph!
Flake: Ja, their selection is pretty lame-I tried to find 'Pet Sematary', but no luck.
Till: (Under his breath.) Danken Sie Gott for small favors...
Flake: What was that-?
Till: Nothing, nothing...where did Reesh go?
Olli (Looking towards the door): It looks like he's arguing with the doorperson.
Doom: Arguing-? What about-?
Richard (To doorperson): WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO SMOKING?!?!
Flake: Clearly, Reesh is not aware just how crunchy-granola San Francisco is...
Doom: Well, we all know how irrational he can be when it comes to nicotine-remember how we got booted out of the Vatican?
Paul: 'You let altar boys smoke up the place with those damn censors, but I can't light up one lousy Gitanes?' Ja, the Swiss guards didn't take kindly to that...
Richard: You know, we have a saying for this where I come from...
Flake: Oh, scheiss...Till, go grab your friend before he says something we'll all-
Richard: 'You're being a little brown!'
Flake -regret.
Till (Leaping from his seat and bolting to the door): OH, fuck... (Grabbing Reesh and clapping a hand over his mouth) Richard, Schatzie, you shouldn't wander off like that. (Smiling to doorperson-a large woman who closely resembles Glen Danzig, but more butch) Apologies, Meine Dame-Richard here is, ah, 'special', and this is one of his rare nights out, so-GAH! Richard, I've told you before, no biting! Now go back and join the other boys (grimacing) ...NOW!
(Scowling, Richard goes back to the table.)
Doorperson: No worries, Dude...but what did he mean, 'brown'-?
Till: Ahhh...I think he was complimenting you on your suntan. He, ah, doesn't get out in the sun much...
Doorperson: Oh. That's cool. Hey, by the way, dude, nice guns! (Indicating Till's biceps.)
Till: Oh...well, thanks. (Smiles proudly.)
Doorperson: What do you bench?
Till: Ohhh...(flexing) Two, maybe two twenty...
Doorperson (Flexing her biceps- which are almost twice as big as Till's): Three-ten-but that's on a good day. (She pats Till's shoulder.) But that's cool, dude, that's a good start.
Till (Deflated): Uhhh...ja, well, uhhh...Oh, there's my drink! Nicetalkingtoyoubye. (He returns to the table-quickly.)
Paul (Perusing book): Well, they do have some Led Zeppelin.
Doom: 'Stairway To Heaven'-? Have you ever sat through that song all the way through? Can you imagine what a nightmare that would be for a roomful of drunks...(Glancing at a twitching Richard) ...having nicotine fits?
Till (Muttering): ...'Three-ten'...I could do three-ten...if I really wanted to...
Flake: They have 'Hey Jude'.
Olli: Ten minutes of 'Naaaa...naaaa...naaaa...nanananaaa...nanananaaa...Hey Jude.' Forget it.
Till (Still muttering): ...It's not like I have the time to be bench pressing six hours a day...ja, that's it! Who has that much time? I have a life, you know!
Richard (Twiching): What difference does it make? We're just here for the Jager, anyway.
(Suddenly, a drag queen roughly 6" taller than Olli and wearing a beehive wig the size of an actual beehive looms over their table.)
D.Q.: Well, hellooo...looks like we have some virgins tonight!
Flake: Excuse me...?
D.Q.: Have you been to our Wednesday Night Suicide Karaoke And Jager Bust before?
Olli: Uhh...no...
D.Q.: Then you're virgins. Pleased to meet 'cha, I'm the hostess, 'Athena Penith'.
Richard: -Charmed.
Paul: 'Suicide'...? That doesn't sound good...
D.Q.: Oh, that only means the songs are picked for you. So you could get something rrrreally embarrassing! It's lots of fun!
Doom: Oh! Well, we're not here to sing. We're just watching.
D.Q.: Well, hon, if you want to take advantage of the all you can drink Jager, you gotta sing!
Till: Ohhhh, scheiss...
D.Q.: Oh, you're German! Well, who knows, one of you might get '99 Luftballoons'.
(Till has a sudden attack of acid reflux. Richard's twitching worsens.)
D.Q.: Don't worry, dolls. Even if you can't sing a lick, it'll be fun. I mean, you don't look like you've ever sung a note in your life, big boy. (She pats Till's shoulder.) I mean, what are you, a pro wrestler?
Till: Ja...ja, as a matter of fact-I'm 'aTILLa The Hun' from Berlin. And I could probably body-slam your doorperson over there in a minute flat...(Glares at doorperson)
D.Q.: Oh, I wouldn't try it, babe-Tank there was the gold medal winner in weight lifting six years straight in the Gay Games.
(Till groans and shrinks into his seat.)
D.Q.: Anyway, Schatzis, drink up and have fun! (She leaves.)
Flake (Suddenly): Oh! 'Athena Penith'! I get it! (Cackles delightedly.)
Paul: Oh, well, knabes, let's think of it as an opportunity to experience a uniquely American form of leisure time activity.
Flake: Well, actually, karaoke is Japanese, going back all the way to the early 60's, and only been discovered by Americans in the '90s...
Richard (Rolling eyes): Thank you, Flockapedia...
Athena (At the mic): Hey, hey, guys, gals, and everyone in between! Welcome to Suicide Karaoke! We have a whole bunch of Karaoke virgins tonight, right over here-
(The spotlight falls on the Rammies' table. Paul smiles obligingly, Till attempts to crawl under the table, the others hold napkins up to their faces, and Richard is too deep into nicotine withdrawl to notice anything.)
Athena: -And they're all from Germany, so I am as happy as a little gurrrl! (He pinches his nipples through his bustier like 'Dieter' from 'Sprockets'. Laughter-except from the Rammie table.)
Flake: ...I don't get it...?
Till (Under his breath): Please, please, let me get Chris Isaak...not Pink, not Jonas Brothers....please, please...
Paul: -What are you doing? You're an atheist.
Till: -There are no atheists in foxholes or karaoke, Paul.
Athena: Let's get this party started wiiiith-you! (Points to Olli.) C'mon up here, you long cool drink of water! (He does so.)You've got...(looks at one of the slips of paper in his hand.) 'Achey Breaky Heart'!
(Flake claps a hand over his mouth in horror. Doom chokes on his drink. Richard's twitching reaches St. Vitus proportions.)
Olli: Pardon, Gnadige Dame? Was sind Sie sagend?
Athena: Oh...errr...looks like we have a translation problem, gang.
Olli: Was bedeutet 'Achey Breaky'...? Haben Sie einen Schvanzstucker?
Athena: Uhhh...that's okay, Stretch. You're excused from this round.
Olli: Sie haben reizende Bruste. Fahrvergnugen!
Athena: Ah, yes, Fahrvergnugen to you, too, hon.
Olli (Kissing Athena's hand): Buckstabu!
Athena: You betcha! Hey, can we get another round for Bruno over here?
(Olli sits, smiling smugly. The Rammies glare at him.)
Till: You. Weasel.
Olli (Sipping his Jager): I have spent 39 years avoiding having to sing anything-no reason I should start now.
Athena: Okay, next, let's go wiiiith...you! Come on up here, Frodo!
Paul (Looking around, realizes he's 'Frodo'.): Oh!
(Paul joins Athena onstage, smiling like the good sport he is.)
Doom: If he pulls a show tune, I swear I'm going to jam my drumsticks in both my ears.
Athena (Pulling a song title): Aaand you've got...'Da Da Da'!
Paul: 'Da Da Da'?!? By Trio?!? Oh gott, I remember that one! I was in high school when that came out! I love it!
Flake (Rolling eyes): Of course, he loves it-everybody who had a bleached mullet in 1982 loved that song.
(Music starts.)
Paul (Singing happily): 'Ich liebe dich nicht, du liebst mich nicht, aha!'
Athena (To crowd): Come on, everybody, you know the words:
Athena & audience (except for Rammies): 'DA! DA! DA!'
Richard: Doom, can I borrow your drumsticks when you're done with them...?
(Paul leaves the stage to raucous applause.)
Athena: Give it up for the Ringbearer! Let us know how that business in Mordor works out, doll.
Paul (Still bouncing with glee): See, Kerls, that wasn't so bad!
Till (Surly): Better zip it if you want to keep your 'Precious', Hobbit Boy...
Athena: Next! Let's go with...you, skinnybones!
(The Rammies, as one, turn to Flake, who sighs and climbs the stage.)
Doom: Ach, this is going to hurt no matter what he gets.
Richard: Ja, he's only got a three note range.
Till: Well, maybe he'll be lucky and get something like-
Athena: 'Walk On the Wild Side'!
Till:...Lou Reed.
(Flake brightens, as this particular song has less than three notes. He does a better-than-expected job to appreciative applause, then goes back to the table, beaming.)
Athena: All right! Nice job! By the way, Kate Moss called, she wants her bustline back! (Laughter from audience.) Seriously, babe, where do you keep your internal organs? In a bag? (More laughter.) Okeley dokeley, next up iiisss-you! Curly Locks!
Doom: *Sigh*: ...That would be me.
(Doom goes to the stage. Athena pulls a song title.)
Athena: -'Xanadu'!
(Doom grimaces.)
Olli: Oh, my god...Doom singing Olivia Newton-John!
Paul (Pulling out camera phone): YouTube, here we come.
Athena: Oh-oh, don't get excited-it's not Olivia, gang. (Disappointed sounds from the audience.) It's by Rush!
Doom (Delighted): Rush?!? Neil Peart? Yes!
(The song plays. Doom sings awhile in a painfully high Geddy Lee voice for a verse, then whips out his drumsticks-which he has actually been carrying in his back pocket- and performs the drum solo on tables, glassware, any available surface. Athena pulls out a lighter, prompting the audience to do likewise, arena-rock style. Song ends to applause, Doom bounds back to the table.)
Richard (Shaking even worse): Oh, scheiss, just watch me get something like The Pussycat Dolls, or Adam Lambert, or-
Paul: ...Celine Dion...?
(Collective shudder from Rammies.)
Flake: Oh, gott, don't even joke about such things!
Athena: Next...you, with the Pippi Longstocking shirt and the patent leather hair! (Richard groans, goes to the stage.) Well, aren't you just cuter than ten ponies! Let's see if we can get you something like Lady GaGa...(Richard winces)...or Beyonce...(Richard grimaces)...or Kelly Clarkson... (Richard whimpers. Athena pulls a song title.)...here we go! Well, this is an oldie-I was making my tampons out of moss when this one came out! (Laughter from audience. Flake looks puzzled.)
Flake: ...I don't get it...?
Till: You don't want to.
Athena: 'My Generation', by The Who!
(Richard brightens. Song begins. Richard's nicotine-fit shaking only accentuates the 'M-my g-g-generation' stuttering, and the crowd loves it. End. Richard returns to the table triumphantly. Through all this, Till has been shotgunning Jager and beer chasers one after the other, and mumbling to himself.)
Till: Maybe I'll get Serge Gainsbourg...or Leonard Cohen...
Athena (To Till): Well, you're the last of the virgins, Beefcake. Come on up!
(Till climbs the stage as Athena rifles through the song titles.)
Till (Under his breath): ...Something in a nice, low register...Tom Waits...Nick Cave...hell, even Amy Winehouse...
Athena (Pulling song title): -Let's see what Ahn-nold here gets...aaand it's... 'Barbie Girl'!
(Crowd goes crazy. Till turns pale and looks as if Athena had just minced a kitten in front of him.)
Athena (Thrusting the mic into Till's face): Go for it, Attilla!
Till: B...B...Barbie...? Ohhhhh...
(Till falls to the floor like a toppled Redwood, sending tremors through the bar and surrounding area.)
Athena: Oh, my beads...he really does have stage fright, doesn't he? Tank!
Tank (Climbing onto the stage.): I'm on it, dude. (She picks up Till, flings him over her shoulder and exits.)
Olli (To Paul): -Did you get all that, Paulchen?
Paul (With camera phone, filming Till's ignominious exit): OH, ja...
Flake: You know, people wait for years for blackmail material like this...
Doom: Ja, sometimes the gods just smile on you...
Richard (Shaking): Cigarette...now...
Till (From Tank's shoulder, mumbling): 'Come on, Barbie, let's go party...Life in plastic, it's fantastic...' *Urp*