G-String Boogie

One of the interesting things about playing in a band is the people (and behavior) you see on the dance floor. Mix one part pounding beat with four parts alcohol and inhibitions waltz right out the door. What’s left resembles the mating ritual of flightless birds as they attempt to entice a mate prior to breeding season.

Once the birds were paired up, we slowed the tempo and played what we referred to as “belly-rubbin’ music.” These slow, romantic dances generated a great deal of body contact between the participants including groping and bumping of beaks. After which, many of the pairs would immediately leave the club in search of nesting grounds.

Occasionally, a couple of the males would get their feathers ruffled while in competition over a female with particularly attractive plumage. Sometimes a third male would swoop in and steal the prize while these two idiots battled for testosterone supremacy.

If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the conductor of this Orchestra of Keyboard Clickers is Maestro WillamenaWisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.

Copyright - Bjorn Rudberg
Copyright – Bjorn Rudberg

Eureka Springs, AR – Police and emergency personnel responded to a 911 call last night at the Rowdy Beaver on Hwy 62. One of the patrons collapsed on the dance floor and appeared to stop breathing.

“It was scary,” said bartender, Anita Drink. “The band was going into the chorus of Mustang Sally when this guy went down like he’d been shot with a gun.”

Evidence collected at the scene indicates the guitar player may have been responsible for the incident.

“It was an accident,” swears guitarist, Fret Boardman. “I hit C-major and Bam!—down he went—struck by a chord.”




40 thoughts on “G-String Boogie

  1. Reading the intro, you very easily could have written for Hawkeye on M*A*S*H. But, I digress …

    I love that guitar man’s name — Fret Boardman. Classic! Fun stuff again, Russell. Six guitar strings!

    I saw the website for The Beav — place looks cool and the food looks terrific!


  2. You’ve done it again, Russell. Hilarious. XD The Rowdy Beaver sounds like it really rocks. Do they make their own special house beverage nearby? Also, that’s the first time that I’ve ever heard of death by chord. XD


  3. Oh dear! Russell, it’s too early in the morning (5:30) to be LOLing 😀 Yep, I agree with Kent, you could have written the intro as one of Hawkeye’s monologues. Your chosen character names – in both the intro and the story – are impeccable as ever.


  4. Anita Drink? There’s the chick for me! And the Rowdy Beaver sounds like a place you and me should go to. I’m sure if we hung out with Fret Boardman, we could get his spillover! Very fun this week, Russell, and also love the scholarly dissertation on bird mating rituals as well.


  5. Music that kills… interesting concept. When I saw the song, “Mustang Sally”, I instantly thought it was some erotic experience that killed him…but a C-major chord… hahahaha that was perfect! 🙂


  6. Russell, you never cease to amaze me! Anita drink every afternoon at half past 4 (I fudge a little). Your story is so clever and there is a bar there called the Rowdy Beaver. Who went down on the floor – anyone I know? Tell your upper-class other half hi for us! Nan 🙂


  7. I didn’t notice the first read that I could click on Rowdy Beaver and bring up their website. I thought it was a fictional place until I thought about the other comments and went back to read it again. That place looks great, especially the food!


  8. LOL! I think you’ve just put the real fun in bar hopping. Thinking up names for the patrons. We need a hashtag twitter game!

    And I agree with Kent. You could have written for Hawkeye Pierce. Or should I say Cock-eyee Pierce.


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