fandomhigh | Rehearsal #2

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!event: pageant

Rehearsal #2

The ~~Dean~~ Principal sits in the theater. The set has been built... they only await... a script.

[OOC: Not using this, but I thought you'd be amused]

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"How did I get stuck with a solo?" John picks up the songbook and starts quietly singing.

Callisto glared at Crichton. "I hate you."

Jingle bells, Jingle bells...

Clang.

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

John's voice cracks like a kid going through puberty throughout the entire song.

Anakin plays the banthabell.

Sullenly.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of auld lang syne?
And days of auld lang syne, my dear,
And days of auld lang syne.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of auld lang syne?

Callisto, having no knoweldge of Lowland Scots, wondered why half the words were spelt strangely.

John coughs, clears his throat and starts to sing again.

Grandma got run over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas eve.
You can say there's no such thing as Santa,
But as for me and Grandpa, we believe.

She'd been drinkin' too much egg nog,
And we'd begged her not to go.
But she'd left her medication,
So she stumbled out the door into the snow.

"Mr. Crichton. Pressure points. Begin again."

"Right, sir. Just warming up the vocal cords."

Here comes Santa Claus!
Here comes Santa Claus!
Right down Santa Claus Lane!
Vixen and Blitzen and all his reindeer
are pulling on the reins.
Bells are ringing, children singing;
All is merry and bright.
Hang your stockings and say your prayers,
'Cause Santa Claus comes tonight.

Clang.

"That's some good clanging, Anakin."

"Thanks," Anakin replied, giving the bell another good whack. "How's your drumming coming along?"

"Uh, I should probably learn, huh?" He shrugs. "I guess I can try to wing it, huh?"

Re: Song!

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"I have no idea," Angel said, the very picture of ~~false~~ innocence. He read through the lyrics of White Christmas, wondering if there was a snowball's chance in hell that Bristow would believe for a second that he'd forgotten the words.

John shrugs and believes him ~~like a dork.~~ "You got a solo too, dude. Let's hear you sound like Bing Crosby!"

"I have to do impressions too? Crap."

"At least you don't have to sing about a donkey," John says, frowning at his lyrics. "Stupid donkey."

"But it's a cute little song about a donkey who delivers presents to - um, I mean man, who writes this stuff?"

John looks shiftily at Angel. "Yeah, right. At least you got a class. I'm singing about a mule!"

"Donkey."

"Cow," John mutters.

"I am not overwei - oh you meant the animal in the song. Never mind."

"Speaking overweight," John says and lowers his voice. "Have you seen the toaster and Santa at all?"

"No," Angel lowered his voice as well, leaning in for privacy. "And I'm worried about Toasty. I don't think we thought this through all the way."

"I haven't seen them either. Aeryn saw them in the hall yesterday but there's no sign of them now." John looks around. "You don't think Santa would hurt Toasty, do you?"