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The Bare Necessities (Non-Profane Edition)

Page 22

by John Harding


  “I've got some popcorn to do if you want.”

  “I couldn't eat another thing,” Paige moaned. “Have you got a TV in your room?” She and Jack nodded. “And a double bed and duvet?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then come on then,” Paige said, grabbing him by the hand. “You're not getting laid, but you might get a goodnight kiss,” she teased. “Come on it's Friday, live a little. See if this 'great friend' is going to cuddle up to you.”

  Jack could only laugh at Paige's drunken expression. “It'll be like we are on tour again!”

  * * * * *

  “Where are we going?” Paige moaned. “It's like, 7am in the morning. And a Sunday. I am sure it's illegal to get me and Hazel up at this time of the morning.” The two sisters yawned and stretched.

  “Getting ourselves on the front of the newspapers,” Claire replied. “That's why Jack has brought his video camera.”

  “I am not becoming a suicide bomber, I told you that! I'm far too pretty to be blown up.” Jack laughed and giggled at Paige stretching out on the chairs of the minibus.

  “It's that Sue Garratt. She came out in favour of the Russian President and Church and stuff on Friday.” Paige shrugged.

  “What?”

  “Pussy Riot. Don't you ever read the news?”

  “No,” Paige sneered. “What a stupid thing to say. It's just boring and …”

  “Oh shut up!” Claire snapped and sighed, before explaining who Pussy Riot were and what had happened, in a biased and partisan manner. “So, we are going to pay Christian Outrage a visit. At their church. Especially after what she said on Peter Moran's show yesterday. Weren't you listening?”

  “Course not,” Paige snapped. “So why 7am? Church isn't until 10, right?”

  “No,” Claire told her. “Well yes. But they are based in Southend. The main people in Christian Outrage and Sue Garratt all attend the same church – and it is hours away.”

  Paige lay back on the chair and groaned. “Wake me when we get there.” It took a little longer to get to Southend as Jack got lost as they navigated towards the tunnel that took them under River Thames and then towards the seaside port.

  Jack had to brake sharply to avoid a cyclist and the violent stopping motion of the vehicle dumped the dozing and horizontal Paige onto the floor, and caused a volley of profanity to leave the lips of the beautiful singer towards the wobbling man on his two-wheeled vehicle. “What?” Paige asked Claire, aggressively. “You think I shouldn't tell him, he was a 'twat?'”

  “No,” Claire replied. “I am just thinking it is a headline we could do without.” Paige muttered under her breath and returned to her horizontal position on the minibus chairs, nursing her bruised sides.

  They arrived at the little church in the suburbs of Southend and had to wait in the vehicle for half-an-hour; Claire wanted their entrance to be at “the perfect moment.” Jack had stopped the minibus in the next street, but as 11am approached and when the band thought Christian Outrage were half way through their church service, Jack slowly reversed the minibus into the small car park and stopped outside the church entrance. They could hear organ music coming from inside the building, and Claire took a few deep breaths.

  “Now I am here, I am not so sure,” she muttered, but Paige shrugged.

  “So what? It's only Christian Outrage. What's the worst that can happen?”

  “We get arrested,” Claire replied and looked pale.

  “What? Again! Look, you woke me up at some ridiculous hour, drove me across the country, threw me on the floor of a minibus. It better be for a damned good reason,” Paige ranted, and Claire nodded.

  “I'm being silly. Right, slight change. I am on vocals with you,” she told Paige. “And Jack has the amp.” She waited for Paige to mutter something and then added. “It's battery powered. And we have our backing track without our voices on CD to play. But it's in and out in two minutes. Hazel's going to record on camera.”

  “Right.” Paige looked at Hazel who had a video camera in her hand, holding it in front of her face and pointing it around the minibus. “Shall we get stripped?”

  “You want to do this as a naked protest?” Jack asked.

  “Well yeah, why not?”

  “Because … because we really will get arrested!”

  “Nonsense,” Paige replied. “What's the point of the Bare Necessities protesting if we want to wear our clothes. Feeble!” Claire nodded.

  “Yeah, that was the point.”

  “Ahh, do it for me!” Paige begged her male band mate. “I'll give you a kiss.”

  “You always give me a kiss,” Jack demanded. “You are always kissing me.” He snorted and sighed. “Come on then.”

  The three of them checked around the vehicle for anyone watching, and got undressed. Jack was shaking with fear, but both Claire and Paige were excited and eagerly disrobed. Hazel was filming them and Claire realised, looking into the camera.

  “Two days ago, the fascists in Russia sentenced three members of Pussy Riot to jail for over a year. Their crime? Performing in a church. While the ludicrously harsh sentences were criticised around the world, the fascists at this church, known as Christian Outrage welcomed the sentence. Well, we are here to give them a little reminder that we support the heroines at Pussy Riot. We are here to do a little rendition of a cover from our album.” Hazel looked around the bus and the three naked performers smiled and nodded.

  Jack got out the vehicle at the front and opened the side door to allow Paige and Hazel to disembark from the minibus. He picked up the heavy amp as well as the two microphones and a tiny portable music device. He left the door open, but put the car keys on a chain around his neck and the three of them walked up the steps and stood outside the door. “Just waitin',” Claire told the camera as Jack attached the wireless microphone receivers to the amp and turned it on. Claire gave a deep breath, smiled and nodded.

  Paige was suddenly nervous and closed her eyes as the doors burst open. She hesitated for a split second as the whole congregation turned to look at them and Jack put the amp on the floor in the aisle. “Two days ago, you condemned Pussy Riot,” Claire shouted into her microphone, and the sound filled the hall. “So we are here to tell you that was wrong.” Sue Garratt struggled to her feet near the front.

  “This is God's house,” she shouted at the naked three teenagers. “And you shall ...”

  Her words were cut off as Jack started the backing track and Paige began to sing. “Look inside, look inside your tiny mind and look a bit harder, cause we're so uninspired, so sick and tired of all the hatred you harbour.” Claire ran towards the front of the aisle and gestured towards the shocked vicar and members of the Christian pressure group.

  “So you say it's not okay to be nude, well we think you're just evil, you're just some fascist who can't see the future; your point of view is medieval,” the two girls sang as Sue Garratt desperately tried to shout over the two singers, but was unable to compete with the powerful amplifier. Several of the congregation had resorted to jeering at the two girls, and a couple of the younger members were trying to film the unfolding protest on their mobile phones.

  “Fuck you, fuck you very, very much.” The profane words caused the vitriol towards the singers to increase and Paige knew they couldn't stay for much longer. They had the element of surprise and shock, but they knew someone would be calling the Police, and she gestured towards her friend. “Cause we hate what you do, and we hate your whole crew, so please don't stay in touch!”

  Claire skipped down the aisle and blew Sue Garratt a kiss. “Fuck you,” the mild mannered girl screeched. “Free Pussy Riot,” she yelled and the four of them ran out of the church and jumped into the back of the minibus with the equipment while Jack started the engine and sped down the road to put as much distance between the church and themselves before stopping in a side street to get dressed.

  “Amazing,” Hazel cried and giggled.

  “That's how you deal with small-minde
d nutters who don't like you,” Paige told her.

  “You beat them at their own game?” Claire told her.

  “No,” Paige sneered. “You fight dirty.”

  Chapter XIX

  “And have a report from Southend,” the radio host announced.

  “Turn it up, turn it up,” Paige screeched and Jack looked up from the motorway to touch the radio.

  “That the band The Bare Necessities, made an expletive-filled stop at the church of Christian Outrage founder, Sue Garratt, to protest at her support for the sentences given to Pussy Riot. We go live to Iqbal, on the scene for us. Iqbal, what happened?”

  “Well it appears that around two hours ago, four naked protesters …”

  “Three,” Paige corrected the radio. “Sloppy journalists. Hazel was clothed during her filming.”

  “...Burst into the Sunday church service and aimed a song from their album at Sue Garratt and swore repeatedly, before being ejected.”

  “Pah,” Paige snorted and Claire glared at her, before putting a finger over her lips.

  “I have with me, Christian Outrage founder, Sue Garratt. Sue, what exactly did they do?”

  “Well as you said. These … heathens, these terrorists burst into the service, violated the sacredness of the church and sang the most disgusting song I have ever heard, spitting dangerous lyrics towards me. There are children in the audience, and they shouldn't be hearing that sort of material. It's depravity. Pure depravity. Something should be done about it, and I will be talking to the Police.”

  “Do you have a message for the Bare Necessities if they are listening?”

  “Stop,” Sue said firmly and Paige burst into hysterics. “Just stop. It's not too late to repent. But them corrupting society has to stop, and we at Christian Outrage will do our best to stop them.”

  Claire's phone vibrated and the good natured girl answered it by pressing the speakerphone option. “Claire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Travelling back from Southend,” Claire giggled and he swore.

  “So it was you.”

  “Yep,” Claire said proudly “Sweet, huh?”

  “No,” Andre said firmly. “Bloody stupid. What you've done is just raised the profile of one of the few people who had a problem with you. And media loves conflict. Christian Outrage are going to get a lot of media time now thanks to you, is that what you want?”

  “But so will we, surely?” Claire muttered.

  “No. Everyone knows about you. Your songs get airplay, and you are well known. Sue Garratt less so. So now you will be on the front page with this nutter trying to get you banned. Is that what you wanted?”

  “But … but.”

  “Next time, can you please talk to me about your stunts.”

  “I think we are being told off,” Paige whispered.

  “Yes. I heard that. And yes you are. I know you meant well and you probably do feel for Pussy Riot, but this is certainly not the way to go about promoting your cause.”

  Claire gulped and sniffed. “Is that it?”

  “Yes,” Andre said firmly. “Any idea on how to spin this, Claire? 'Cause I will have editors left, right and centre asking for a quote. Asking why my clients just swore at a bunch of kids at church.”

  “Just say that the band were so shocked by her evil words that …”

  “... You decided to interrupt a church service. That's like slapping Mother Teresa to some people.” Andre ranted for another five minutes with Paige muttering that they could just sack him.

  “He's right,” Claire admitted as she put the phone down. “What a stupid idea.”

  “Your stupid idea,” Paige reminded her. “I lost my sleep for nothing.”

  “Will you stop moaning about your sleep?” Claire snapped. “And I'm sorry. I thought it would work and send a message about Pussy Riot.”

  Hazel shrugged. “But we still have the video,” she muttered. Claire hummed and looked out the window as the countryside raced by and then jumped when her phone vibrated again. She refused the call, but Andre rang back a second and third time.

  He clearly gave up trying to get hold of Claire as Paige's phone rang, and she pressed “answer” and put it on speakerphone.

  “Guys,” Andre called excitedly. “Are you free tonight?”

  The three of them looked at each other. “Yeah, why?” Claire asked.

  “I need to catch up on my sleep,” Paige objected.

  “Flee Wilson is playing tonight at Wembley.”

  “And you have tickets?” Paige cried. “Oh, I love you. She defined women in rock along with Joan Jett in the seventies. Oh Andre …”

  “No Paige, she wants you to open the show. She's a fan, and she liked what you did in Southend. And her first choice pulled out. She wants you to …”

  Andre didn't get to finish as three extremely excited teenagers yelled at each other. “Yes,” screamed Paige. “We'll do it! We'll do it!”

  * * * * *

  “Pardon?”

  “Paige says she won't talk to you unless you are naked,” Claire replied as she held their dressing room door ajar.

  “Why?”

  “Because she is in an awkward mood,” Claire teased. Paige hissed at her friend.

  “It's not me that wants to see him naked,” Paige exclaimed. “It's you.”

  “Ssssshhhhh!” The black-haired voluptuous girl moaned and pushed her hair behind her ear. She rubbed her mouth to remove the biscuit crumbs and even straightened her pubic hair. “Are you naked yet?”

  “I'm in the middle of the corridor,” their agent moaned. “I can't get undressed. I just need to speak to you. Let me in.”

  “Paige says no bare ass, no chat.”

  “Claire, please tell Paige that I can't get undressed here.”

  “Ahh Paige says …”

  “Paige says come in,” the red-haired girl cried and opened the door to their suited agent. She shut the door as Claire glared at her and then turned to face the well-presented man. “And now get those clothes off.”

  “But …”

  “Just do as she says. Claire wants to see you naked.” Claire blushed, and Paige just shrugged as she walked to the back of the dressing room where a make-up artist was finishing her craft on Jack. Paige picked up Jack's phone and took a picture of the stripping Andre and uploaded it to the band's social networking presence with the caption, “even our agent gets naked for us.” Jack snatched his phone back as it finished uploading and Paige giggled.

  “You are a naughty girl,” he teased when he saw the picture.

  “Leave it,” Paige begged and looked across at Andre's frown. “What's up?”

  “Christian Outrage are protesting outside the stadium,” she was told. “Five hundred people are here, and the Police are worried …”

  “What, that there may be a mass tea-and-biscuits session,” Claire flippantly added. “Seriously, what are a group of middle-aged religious extremists going to do?”

  “I don't know, but they are protesting and it has drawn news cameras. So please, Paige, Claire be on your best behaviour. We could really do with you not inflaming the situation.”

  “You should have been a school teacher,” Paige moaned. “Every time you talk I think I am being told off.” Andre shook his head and Paige sighed. “OK. I will be suitably behaved.”

  “It's not you that had to explain your little church stunt,” Andre moaned.

  “Andre, you're our agent. You get paid to take the flack,” Paige replied and crossed her arms. “What's the point of an agent if he wants us to be school prefects. Your job is to explain away our silliness.”

  “Don't I know it,” he grumbled and sighed, before wishing the band the best of luck.

  “I'm nervous,” Claire admitted and held out her arms to hug their naked agent, squeezing him tightly. “We've not played to this many people before.”

  “We played to millions on the 'net,” Jack told her optimistically, but
Paige was answering her phone and Claire wasn't listening as she hugged Andre.

  “Hello?” Paige answered and then swore as Hazel's voice came through the handset.

  “I'm sorry, we can't get to Wembley.”

  “Why not? I left tickets for everyone and …”

  “Yes, it's not that,” Hazel interrupted her. “There is a protest downstairs … about you.”

  “Christian Outrage?”

 

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