My Love Explodes!

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes.  Here is what I came up with.  I hope you like it.

Eton Mess were an Anglophile pop band from Limerock who specialized in short, catchy numbers delivered in English accents.  They worshipped The Move and XTC.  They smoked Dunhills and attempted Ben Sherman shirts.

O-Levels, also from Limerock, were a slightly different Anglophile pop band.  They also sang with English accents, but worked a grittier Kinks-meets-Paul Weller-with-some-Squeeze angle.  They sang songs about The Troubles and being on the dole, despite none of the members having ever left The United States.

The bands’ epidemic levels of Brit worship meant that neither could stand to be on the same bill with the other.  On the rare occasions that bookings occurred, competition was ruthless.  The members of Eton Mess took to wearing spats onstage, while the singer of O-Levels laboriously befriended an actual Englishman, a nice kid named Tony who had sustained a head injury and couldn’t stand loud noises.  His parents had moved to Providence when his mom got a job at a legal firm.

Despite lore surrounding the irresistible charm of English musicians, the members of both bands had difficulty maintaining relationships with women.  Eton Mess turned off potential girlfriends by loudly twitting around the Lincoln Mall wearing bowlers and shouting “I Say,” before ordering at Papa Gino’s.  Strained A Hard Day’s Night antics on a budget.  Meanwhile, O-Levels’ policy of enforced alcoholism and rainy day melancholy bummed the ladies out hard.

In total, both bands had 8 members.  Their average weight was 227 pounds (16 st. 3.)  Their general bulk, accrued after years of sedentary bedroom listenings to Muswell Hillbillies, Argybargy and Sound Affects, meant that most of the sharp ‘face’ threads of 1966 were unavailable to them.  They compensated with tent-like roundel t-shirts and Doc Martens.  In the summer, they wore cargo shorts.

Rickenbacker 360s through Vox AC30s.

Every one of them, unbeknownst to the others, was at the wrong end of a restraining order.       

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