y a band,” Dan said.
Robb hit upon an idea and stood raising his arms in the air to gain the room’s attention.
“We need a name and I know how we can find one. Have a moment with your drinks dear gentlemen of substances, I will be right back,” Robb said.
Simon was sipping his Stella and filling his cheeks with the fizzing, biting liquid before swallowing. He watched Robb leave the room. Simon followed every footstep; the thudding thundering airborne vibrations of resonating pulse almost touched him as they sped across the living room ceiling. He could feel all the room’s vibrations, he was at one with the room and electricity was pulsating above his head. He crouched a little lower.
Simon listened as the steps came crashing down the stairs at speed and Robb burst enthusiastically into the room clutching a pile of books in his arms. Robb stepped towards the table and spilled the books on the crowded wooden top.
“What’s this for?” Dan asked.
“This is my band name creation scheme. If it works, I am going to call it Robb’s Great Band Name creation scheme for length.”
“And how does Robb’s great band name creation work?” Tony asked
“Well, band members, and Tony, we all turn to pages and read anywhere on those pages. It is inevitable we’ll find band names suitable for our purposes.”
“an excellent idea. What books have we got?” Dan said.
“Acid Kool-Aid Test for you, Daniel”
“Top book. And for my learned friends?”
“1984, A Clockwork Orange, Ulysses, Dharma Bums, Howl and Sartre’s Nausea for a European feel.”
Simon had seen the film of A Clockwork Orange and found it un-watchable. He liked Michael Crichton novels. Robb handed him a faded, brittle copy of Howl.
Robb was standing.
“Simon, you start, man, flip to any page and read out words from somewhere on the page.”
Simon opened the book and his eyes ran over a few words until he said, “Neon fruit Supermarket.”
Robb and Dan laughed.
“Dan, random page and word please.”
Simon started to read from his book again.
“Dirty Boogie, Golden Mouth Flashes, Merry Pranksters, hear a flea fart.”
Simon started again
“Aisles full of husbands, avocado babies, Milky breast, locomotive sunflower.”
“Locomotive Sunflower is a good band name, man.”
Dan shook his head. “Not necessarily.”
“A band name has to look good,” Robb said.
Robb, Mal and Dan had written various versions of ‘Locomotive Sunflower’. They had all decided that Locomotive Sunflower was not going to be their band name.
Simon was gulping from his can which was now becoming light. He had noticed that the crate of Stella was almost empty. Its plastic had been ripped open and now hung like the skin of a savaged carcass.
“Everyone get their book. We’ll go around the room, four attempts each at random places, I’ll write the names down and at the end we’ll have our band name. Everyone ready? Dan, Ulysses please.”
Dan opened the thick book at a random page.
“The dab, the brill, the flounder, the denizens of the aqueous kingdom, polly bullocks of immaculate pedigree.”
They laughed again.
Simon was looking at the cover of the Jack Kerouac book.
“The Dharma Bums,” he said, showing the cover of the book to everyone.
The title was written in a psychedelic font.
“That does look fgood,” Dan said, sitting forward.
“What is a dharma bum?” Mal asked.
Robb was grinning. He liked the name. “A dharma bum is a free spirit who travels the country like a vagrant embracing ancient eastern spirituality. It’s an American beatnik thing. I think we should use it.”
“The Dharma Bums, live at Glastonbury. I think it sounds excellent,” Dan seconded.
“I like it,” Simon said.
“I quite like The denizens of the Aqueous Kingdom,” Tony added.
Robb stood. “First album can be The denizens of the Aqueous Kingdom by the Dharma Bums.
All in agreement raise your hands?”
All hands went up.
Simon drank his third can dry and lay down. As the world began to spin like a record, everything was possible, he wished Tabitha could see him now, he wasn’t wasting life. He wondered if anyone played an instrument.
D Rudd-Mitchell (David) is a recent English graduate, future teaching assistant, aspiring writer and occasional poet. He has had flash fiction published in Plastic Brain Zine and the Projectionists Playground.