Blue guy: Bob fuzzy one who had been glued: Curls (striped like a tiger under shirt, orange overall), has antennas. other fuzzy one: Dick (pale green fuzzy thing) Manager: Fred, four-ten, stout, looks like a human, is a troll. Xander woke up to a gentle poke, looking at the guy hanging into his cubicle. "We there yet, Bob?" "Just about to land." "Okay." He got out, stretching first then finishing the soda he had stored in the mini-fridge. He looked outside, seeing a big city with strangely colored building coming closer. "What's this place?" "Our first stop. Remember, don't eat the green worms." "Not looking forward to any worms," he admitted. "Do I need to help haul and tote or just play bodyguard and doorstop?" "Play doorstop once we get into the lounge," Curls said, walking around him. "Can't bring the soda in, it'll upset the natives." Xander finished it and tossed the can into the recycling bin. "Good choice." The bus landed with a screech of tires and they looked outside. "Hey, no groupies, I'm disappointed. Is this our stop?" he yelled, looking up. The door opened and he leaned out, looking around. "Doesn't look like an arena." He looked at the top of the bus, staring at the little guy sitting up there. "Where's the arena?" "Was here," he mumbled. "Uh-huh." Curls looked around and smiled at a young boy. "Where's the arena this time? You guys moved it on us and we can't make pretty music without it." The boy gaped, then drooled in awe. "Left, then up the street. The blonk building. You're Curls." Curls winked and tossed out a copy of their newest CD, leaning back into the bus. The door closed and he hooted and squealed, bringing all his friends while the bus moved off. Xander looked at hi. "Who's driving the bus?" "The bus fairy," Dick said, patting him on the back. "Don't worry, he's pretty cool but now and then he doesn't ask for directions." "I think we've all had those moments," Xander admitted. "That's how I ended up in Oxnard instead of somewhere more exotic." He shrugged and grabbed his notebook and pen, heading off after the guys once they parked again. They made it to the lounge area after some groupies tried to stop them. The guys handled it with smiles and a lot of signing. "I'm not supposed to get into that sort of situation, right?" They all shook their heads. "Good. Happy fans are nice fans who don't stalk." They all nodded at that, lounging in the back area of the room. He went to check out the courtesy bar, frowning. "What're the purple things?" "Worms," Curls said. "The orange things?" "Worms," Bob said. "Are the M&M looking things worms?" Xander asked. "No, those are M&M's and Bob's," Dick said. Xander walked the bowl over, earning a grin. "Thanks, man. Anything else besides worms?" "No but the orange worms look funny." "Wasn't there something about the orange worms last time?" Bob asked. Curls put his feet up, considering it. "Not that I remember." Dick nodded. "Yeah, something about them glowing and times of the year. Something about ripeness I think." They looked over at the squeak. "Oh, that was it. When they're ripe they change your gender. Cute look for you, Xander!" He smiled and waved a hand. "Better you than us, man. Wouldn't want to disappoint the fans again." "Gee, thanks. Why do I look like a cheap stripper with bad implants?" he demanded, hands going to his hips, one foot tapping. He realized it and looked down "Oh, hell, I turned into Stripper-licious Buffy." He walked off in a huff, going to find a native. They all stared but one giggled. "Not like I knew, guys. Is there an antidote?" They all gave him confused looks. He wrote it out. They stared in confusion. He wrote it in a common demon tongue, and one laughed. "Not funny." He glared. He wrote something else out. 'I'm from Sunnydale. I know witches.' That worked, someone went to find someone to help. Bob leaned out. "Did you scare our fans?" He held up the paper. "Around here that's a compliment. Give it a few hours, maybe it'll wear off." "And I'm supposed to look like a ho until then?" "Gives us eye candy and a new song to write," Dick called. "We won't ask you for a taste, dear." "Gee, thanks. Wouldn't go for it anyway," Xander told them, walking back inside, trying to make the t-shirt less tight around his chest. Someone peeked around the corner. "Hey, manager guy." "The call me Fred, Xander. Ate the orange worm?" "We forgot what it did," Curls said, jotting down musical notes. "Oops." "The best advice I can give you is to not eat anything you don't recognize, kid." He came in, looking him over. "Though you do look very nice." His hair had grown out to shoulder length and his body was highly anime-style now. The rear view was just as nice too. "I'm not for sale, Fred." "Wasn't going to suggest it, but maybe the guys could use you for some promo pictures?" "We'd get a bad rep if they knew where he was from," Dick said, jotting down more music on Bob's sheet of paper. Bob swatted at him and crossed it out, going back to his own. "Mine works better with that bridge." "Yours sounds like bird tweets, Dick, quit trying to write music for the masses and write it for the specialty planets." Bob looked over. "We could use a cage dancer." Xander glared at him so he grinned. "What?" "I may look like a stripper with bad implants but I'm not a stripper with bad implants. I still have no rhythm." "Fine, you sit in here and be courted," Curls agreed. "Fred, how much longer do we have?" "Two hours, boys. So, can I talk you into doubling up on this arena?" he asked hopefully. "They asked me to break arms if you bother them," Xander said dryly, making Fred snicker. "Think I can't, even in this form?" "No, you probably can, Xander." He patted him on the head. "The hair needs to grow out more and then you'll be a really pretty girl." "I'm not a girl. I never wanted to be a girl and me having girl problems would really suck since my only information about PMS is Buffy and Willow." He shuddered at that. "So, no, being a girl won't be good for me. Thanks anyway. How long before it wears off?" "Few hours," he admitted. "Local time. You boys sure?" "Break something small on him, Xander," Dick ordered, flicking a hand. "We're writing our next album." Fred sighed but walked off shaking his head. "Anytime he starts to nag you have the right to break something small. As long as he can book us dates, sign our paychecks, and hand over money we're good with him limping or whatever." He flicked a hand again, going back to his writing. He did glance over at Xander then back to the music he was working on a few times. Xander sat down to figure out how to write this one up. Yeah, he was definitely going to have a *few* stories to tell when he got home. He heard the gong and the guys got up, making him frown. "Local time is faster?" They nodded, Bob taking most of his M&M's with him out to the stage. Xander followed along to make sure they weren't bothered on the way and to hear some of their music. They settled behind their normal looking instruments and he gaped a few minutes later. He was on tour with the demonic/alternate reality version of Yanni? He had thought they were a heavy metal band. He checked the crowd, they were headbanging. It was very odd. He went back to the green room, listening to the music. It was nice. It was calming, soothing, and then suddenly they switched songs into something that made him feel a bit hornier. They came back for a clothing change. "When you guys said you were a heavy metal band last night I was thinking Metallica. Not Zamphir." Dick snickered, shaking his head. "This is wild and crazy stuff to most demons and realms, kid. Metallica would make their heads explode. Ricky Martin made some heads explode when he came here on tour once," he mused, changing his shirt. "Do you actually listen to Metallica?" Bob asked, popping a few more M&M's. "Yeah." "The stuff from before they cut their hair or after?" Dick asked. "They cut their hair? When?" "Back in like, the early nineties, dude," Bob said with a smirk. "Besides the fact I was ten in 1990 and didn't know what a CD was then? I'm an equal opportunity listener. If I like it, I do." "Tell me your momma made you listen to classical?" Bob begged. "Country and Western." They all shuddered. "You didn't bring any with you, right?" Curls demanded. "Because that's a known cause of depression across the multi-verse. It's a banned substance in some of them." "A few things but that's when I'm having a sad music day. They're going to start whining soon." The band nodded, walking out together. "We'll make sure you don't have to listen to any of the sad stuff, Xander. That way we don't get banned too," Curls called as he walked up the hallway. Fred was pacing. "Sorry, Xander compared us to Zamphir." "It's a great compliment. They're getting restless." They went back out there and the crowd went nuts, shouting one of their newest hit, which made them smile and rock into that song next instead of their planned one. *** Xander followed the guys back onto the bus, staring down at his chest. "At least they're starting to shrink," he muttered. Dick kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, dear. You do know our species are not compatible?" "Yeah but you needed a kiss for that compliment earlier." Xander looked confused. "Zamphir is *huge* on our circuit. He's a heavy metal rock god on our circuit." He beamed. "Have fun with them. You should get to enjoy having the boobs of doom for a few more hours. We'll land in our next city tomorrow sometime." He headed for his cubicle, turning on some music in there. Xander got into his own cubicle with his newest soda, settling in to stare at his adjusted body once he was naked. He could see a hint of his penis starting to come back so he decided to play with his breasts for a while. Not like he was going to get groupies on the tour so he might as well make the most of it. TBC... |
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