Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
“Young lady, I’m gonna need you to reassemble my piano right now.”
“It’s a harp, Bob.”
“No, no. You can’t be a harp player; my drummer would be hurling drumsticks at you.”
“I swear to you that what I’m playing is a harp.”
“Uh-huh. And was it invented–”
“Harpo Marx did not invent the harp, Bobby.”
“–by Harpo…ah. So his name was just a coincidence, then?”
“Um, sure, yeah.”
Good to know.”
Ten years ago, a choogly-type pickup band was sent to prison by a military court for a jam they didn’t commit. These musicians promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the San Francisco underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire the B-Team.
J.A. Lane: Muscle, explosives, HVAC repair, showing Bobby how his phone works.
Bobby “Tall Napoleon” Weir: Brains of the outfit, also the sandals of the outfit. Good with a blade. Drives the winnebago.
Mikaela “Smiles” Davis: Hacker. Undercover expert. Does that Black Widow move where she leaps crotch-first into a bad guy’s face and spins him around. Also helps Bobby with his phone.
Donnybrook “Don Was” Washerdryer: Werewolf by night.
OR
Mikaela Davis has stolen her haircut from The Runaways and God bless her for it.
Look:
See?
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