At first life was simple. Papa sang bass, momma sang tenor, me and ol' Holler Log would join right in there, our voices raised in the innocent joy of popular music, bringing happiness to the drab, dismal, and, most of all, British world around us. But soon we were driven far from the public eye by the vile and vicious violence of a Beast!
We were followed...hounded one might say...daily...nightly...afternoonly...over hill and over Dale (who subsequently sued) relentless in his pursuit, , his hot breath in our ear, dogging our very footsteps!!
Late at night I could hear him beneath my window...panting. Growling. Licking the siding. I swapped bedrooms with Marion Davies but it didn't help. Like the Beast that he was he soon picked up my spoor!!!
In desperation we assumed a disguise for our next performance!
But after our very first show under our new identities, as we raced down the alley at the back of the theatre, headed toward our limousine in an attempt to avoid the shrieking hordes of fans waiting out front, there, blocking our path like a path blocking blocker of paths was...
We froze in horror!!!
Shock-instant, heart freezing fear-took hold of our hearts! A shock more horrifying than finding a small peevish owl in ones toilet!!!!
"What do you want from me fiend!" I shouted, struggling against my bonds. "I will not go gentle into that good night, sir! I tell you I will die with the words of Patrick Henry on my lips-'Give me liberty or give me..."
"...give you what?" Said the Beast, saliva dripping from his flews.
"Well I forget. Something. Honor? Probably something like that. Honor or Victory or something."
"Dinner? Give me liberty or give me dinner? Sort of a last meal scenario thing? He could have been hungry. I would have been."
I lowered my steely gaze to his.
"And are you hungry, foul BEAST?" I asked, daring him to show me his fangs, baring my lovely throat, determined to go down into death with a sardonic smile playing about my cruel yet sensuous lips.
"NO no no no no nooooooo, good heavens no." He looked down in sudden chagrin. "Oh and I meant to say I'm sorry about your mate Johnny Jones by the way but I asked him what he was doing and he said 'Your momma' and I lost my temper a bit. I have a touch of gastritis you see and I'm afraid it makes me somewhat vexatious at times."
Well. Color me stunned. I gazed in wonder at this prodigy before me. "What is it you want then, Beast?" I ventured.
"Well, I don't know." I said. "We can't always be running off down to the pet store for fresh shavings and bags of kibble. What kind of nourishment do you require?"
"Bananas," he replied, the saliva now flowing in a copious stream from the corners of his mouth. "Bananas are lovely. I always keep a bowl of them on my kitchen table. They're such a decorative fruit, you know...very long...and yellow....and, you know, long and yellow."
He twisted his handkercheif anxiously. "And you know, I can do this one trick-actually its very popular at parties- you see, I take a handful of vegetable shortening and ask one of the younger boys to go bring me a banana from the bowl, right? And then I unbutton my "
"Yes, that's wonderful," I said. "I'm afraid ocarina virtuosity, vacuuming and louche party hijinks aren't enough to earn you a place with the Ladybirds. Do you have any other talents we might find useful?"
"Allow me to demonstrate," he said.
And so it was that the Ladybirds gained a new voice.
If you'd like to book an appearance of the popular british vocal combo 'The Ladybirds Plus One' You can reach us at our website here: 05780O4UJ5.COM
or contact Robert Plant at:
Suite 55, Upton Sinclair, Liver Fluke, Finister Bar Sinister-on-Whipweal, UK, NORTHERN HEMISPHERE, EARTH 3BM 9G7