I sighed and approached the platform. Dekoki the kappa and Yuto the Oni from team Yokai both patted me on the back. So did one of the skeletons from the Bleak Congregation. The gremlin DJ had a small microphone onstage already attached to a stand and placed at Donut height. He slapped a second microphone into my palm as I turned to face the crowd. A pair of screens sat at an angle, facing the stage, showing the lyrics.
A pair of happy faces danced back and forth on the screen with the words “Get Ready to Sing!”
I activated theGelded Choirboyscroll.
You’ve been Choired! What a beautiful voice you have!
Donut looked up at me. I could see my reflection in her sunglasses. My cheeks were burning red, and I wasn’t sure if that was nerves or if it was a side effect of theChoirboyscroll.
“Remember, Carl. Just sing naturally. It’s okay if you mess this up. I already put us down for a second go just in case. Follow my lead, and we’ll be fine.”
“I’m ready,” I said. I startled at my own voice. I sounded as if I’d just sucked on a balloon full of helium.
“Here we go,” the DJ called. The music started to play, filling the club with the happy synth pop that could’ve only originated in the 1980s. The crowd cheered and started blissfully jumping up and down to the beat. The little performance gauges appeared over each of our heads. Across the bar, Mongo screeched with encouragement.
Okay. You can do this.
And that’s when Dwight the unicorn stabbed the DJ in the face with his horn.
[ 57 ]
All hell broke loosein the bar.
The music continued. The gauges remained ready to judge our performance. Half the crowd continued to bounce and cheer, but the other half was suddenly beating the shit out of each other.
I exchanged a look with Donut. We didn’t have a choice. We had to sing the song. With the DJ dead, this would be our only chance.
“You killed Lucienne!” Dwight roared drunkenly at me and Donut, the dead gremlin still attached to his twinkling horn. “You killed her, and I’m going to stab you in the fucking spleen!” He whipped his head, and the corpse sailed across the bar.
But Dwight was drunk, and his aim was off. Instead of hitting me or Donut, the dead gremlin slammed into Yuto, the large red demon from team Yokai. The gremlin exploded like a jar of salsa against the chest of the demon, who roared indignantly. The Oni swung a fist at the unicorn, who wasn’t even close, and instead connected with some scarecrow monster, who blasted into a spray of glittering straw. His two partners, also scarecrows, turned on the red demon and attacked. The Minister of Blood-Letting and his skeletons jumped into the fray, defending their Yokai friends.
That idiot unicorn was going to get himself killed. We couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. We needed him to live until at least the next heat started.
But then it was time to sing, and I couldn’t think of anything else.
“We’re talking away,” I sang, starting the song. I ducked as a bottle flew through the crowd. It sailed over my head and exploded against the curtained wall, spraying the back of my head with glass and cold beer. “I don’t know what I’m to say . . . I’ll say it anyway!”
A gremlin fighting a Draconian bowled onto the stage, then rolled toward Donut. I kicked them both, sending them away before they could crash into her.
“Today is another day to find you...” Another bottle crashed against my chest. “Shyin’ away.”
Dong Quixote was suddenly in the middle of the fray, swinging his gigantic nickel sock over his head, clearing the stage in front of us, howling at the top of his lungs.
“Oh, I’ll be comin’ for your love, okay.”
Donut sat poised at the microphone. It was time for the chorus.
“Take on meeeee!” I sang.
“Take on meeeee!” Donut echoed, singing her part, her Auto-Tuned voice high and, thankfully, in key. The sound pierced through the chaos like a knife. She shot a low-powered magic missile, and it blew an axe out of the hand of a Draconian who was about to sink it into the back of Dong’s head.
“Take mee onnnn,” I continued.
“Take on me!”
“I’lllll beeee gone, in a day or twoooooo,” I cried, hitting the extra-high note.
There was a chime from the performance gauge floating by my head, and digital sparkles showered off it.