TALES FROM WITCHWAY WOOD: Crash 'n' Bang Read Online Free Page B

dances, Witch pantomimes. Do ’em all, don’t you?’
    ‘Worse luck,’ said Filth under his breath. Arthur shot him an impatient look and he gave a little shrug and began picking at his nail varnish again.
    ‘They should pay you more,’ said TT. ‘Talent like yours shouldn’t come cheap.’
    ‘I get the best rate I can,’ said Arthur rather stiffly.
    ‘Of course you do,’ agreed TT hastily. ‘I’m just saying you deserve more. I’m a big fan of you boys. I was at your first ever gig. When everything went wrong and all the drums got punctured.’
    Filth gave a little shudder. He didn’t want to be reminded of their first gig – a Witch Talent Contest that had ended in a full-scale riot. Come to think of it, a lot of their gigs ended in riots. People seemed to enjoy the fighting more than the music.
    ‘I asked for your autographs,’ went on TT. ‘You might remember.’
    Everyone looked blank. Their memories of the disastrous occasion included nothing as flattering as being asked for an autograph.
    ‘You’ve improved a lot since then,’ said TT. ‘I mean, a lot . Of course, it’s a pity about the sort of rubbish they make you play. Old-fashioned, isn’t it? Marches and jigs and whatnot.’
    ‘Yes, well, that’s what’s popular, I’m afraid,’ said Arthur.
    ‘I know,’ agreed TT sympathetically. ‘No taste at all, the types who live around here. Cloth-eared, every last one of ’em.’
    ‘Right!’ chorused the Boys.
    ‘All that boring old stuff. You’re better than that.’
    ‘We are!’
    ‘You know what you’ve got? Raw talent. With decent management, you could go far.’
    ‘Right!’ yelled Filth and O’Brian. Only Arthur didn’t join in.
    ‘Actually,’ he said shortly, ‘ I manage us.’
    ‘Oh, I know,’ soothed TT. ‘And you do a great job, I can see that. As far as it goes. You get the gigs, collect the money, all that. Somebody’s got to do it. Must eat into your creative time, though. Your essential piano-playing time.’
    ‘Well – yes, it does, a bit,’ agreed Arthur. It did. The band generated a lot of paperwork.
    ‘You’re a musician, right?’
    ‘Well, yes, but someone has to –’
    ‘You just want to make Crash ’n’ Bang music. Live the dream.’
    ‘Yes, but –’
    ‘A big stage. A wild crowd. That’s what you boys live for.’
    ‘Yes, but –’
    ‘Arthur.’ TT held up a small hairy hand, stopping him in his tracks. ‘You’re not seeing the big picture. Hear me out.’ He pulled The Daily Miracle from under his arm. ‘There’s an interesting piece in the paper you might like to see. And I’ve got a little proposal I’d like to put to you . . .’
     
    A branch snaps, some bushes rustle – and the tall dark shape emerges from the trees. Crouching low, it creeps towards the weeping willow tree that grows next to the Studio. It parts the branches and ducks beneath . . .

 
     
 
     
Chapter Seven
    Time Off
     
    It was the following morning and Sludgegooey sat in her kitchen, surrounded by the wreckage from the day before. Things were even worse because the mess from breakfast was now added to it. She was irritably eating an egg while her Broom barged about the place, sweeping up in a slapdash fashion and looking put out.
    Filth came shuffling into the room in his nightshirt. The Broom swept a pile of dirt into his path on purpose, then banged itself up against the wall.
    ‘You’re up, then,’ snapped Sludgegooey. ‘I put your egg on to boil an hour ago.’
    ‘Cool,’ yawned Filth.
    ‘No. Hot, actually. It exploded. You’ll have to scrape it off the walls. What time did you get in last night?’
    ‘Dunno.’
    ‘It was past midnight, wasn’t it? No wonder you’re up so late. I thought you said you’d clear up the kitchen.’
    ‘I will,’ said Filth. ‘I will .’
    ‘You said that yesterday. The Broom’s fed up with you, and so am I. This won’t do. It won’t do at all.’
    ‘Something came up,’ muttered Filth. He