We're a Pavlovian Band

Dasani sat on her bed watching the rain out the window. She was a Pavlovian dog. Seeing the rain trickle down the glass made her keys jingle in excitement.

The rain was pretty monotonous as far as rain goes. It was all one colour and each piece went in the same direction, like omg it was all so mainstream. She needed to get out of here and start a new outkast non-mainstream life. She put on some shades and headed to the most gangsta district of Pavlovia.

There she formed a punk rock band called Outkast. Only the K was backwards for emphasis. Naturally she sang and pretended to play guitar. Her accountant, Walter, played a very polite bass, and the rich homeless guy from Poplar St. played drums.

She played a few kids' birthday parties. Then, at the height of their popularity, there was a croakus in the band and they split up, leaving poor Pavy to whimper alone under a cardboard box to stay dry.

Dasani never had a contingency plan for if becoming rich and famous didn't work out for her, so she had to eat her guitar, because it was easier than finding someone to sell it to for 'real food' money.

She had strange pains in her stomach for a few days, and she coughed up a screw in the night, but it filled a hole.

On the third day, a strange thing happened. She opened her mouth to shout at a young whippersnapper for trying to stick his tongue up her nose while she was asleep, but instead of the words she meant to shout, a new sound came out. It was kind of like what might happen if you replaced someone's vocal chords with guitar strings. Or if you replaced guitar strings with vocal chords. Except less gorey and nicer sounding than either of those scenarios would probably be.

Not being much of an opportunist, Dasani did nothing with this new development and tried to go on living as always.

Her mother called her inside the house. She wasn't a hardcore enough hobo to actually live in the streets, just the back yard. She ran to the door, wagging her tail.

"Well, where've you been all afternoon, little one?"

"Ab" said Dasani

"I beg your pardon?"

This isn’t right, thought Dasani. Her voice was supposed to have more of a Lassie quality, but it now it more closely resembled Robert Johnson. She tried to tell her mother that she needed help, but it only came out in the form of a demonished 10th.

Her mother didn't know what to do. So she called the fire brigade. They made her pay a fine and pick litter for pranking them. She tried to tell them it wasn't a prank, demonished chords serious fucking business, but they wouldn't listen. They were too busy wearing those yellow helmets and looking manly for all the hot single babes around. Around this time, Walter the accountant came looking for Dasani because of some unpaid Boneo tax. When he heard her burp out a chord he gasped in horror. "No! It's happening again!" He ran away screaming.

Dasani decided to pursue him, because it seemed like he knew something about her predicament.

He ran for what seemed like hours, though it was probably only 3 or 4 minutes. She followed him all the way to a disused phone booth, inside of which he disappeared and out from which, 30 seconds later, appeared a werewolf.

I mean, he was a werewolf already, of course, but Dasani didn't really know that until he came out all hairy and toothy and murdery.

"E#!" she yelled in shock.

"You mean F?" said Walter.

"That's what I said."

So they did some running and chasing and Benny Hilling and making out behind lamp posts until they got tired. As the sun started to rise Walter became human again and he didn't look so makey outy anymore. Dasani forgot how bald he was without his hair.

"Minor chord : (" she said.

Since probably around the moment when Walter started chasing her instead of running away from her, he decided he wanted to promote Dasani's beautiful if misunderstood voice.

He was an accountant. He could do these things.

Pretty soon she was playing more than just kids’ birthday parties. They made a lot of money together. But Dasani was upset because she only really liked werewolf Walter, which only happened one night a month. Her music became increasingly depressing and she lost her audience. Soon they were broke again and had to ask their old bass player if he'd lease out the mouldy end of the cardboard box to them.

There they'd make hot sweet furry love one night a month, and the rest of the time Dasani would make excuses like 'i'm not in the mood' or 'i'm on my dog period' or 'i just want to cuddle'.

She had to come up with a plan to make Walter stay werewolf. But how?

After much scheming, with scene dissolves to show a passage of time, she didn't come up with much more than putting moon dust in his cereal.

"What we need is a fresh start, Pavy," said Walter. "Let's jump on a freight train and disappear from here."

She was strongly conflicted between going with his plan and going back inside to watch Dora the Explorer.

Ultimately she agreed. She signaled the affirmative by playing a riff from a Yes song.

Walter didn't get it because she only ever used obscure Yes songs like Dear Father.

But he took her along anyway. They waited by the tracks all day, and somewhere around sundown they heard a train whistle blow in the distance. This was it. Last chance to turn back.

The next few minutes passed with them facing the tracks, avoiding eye contact, each lost in private thought.

Walter was wondering if he was being silly doing this. How could a hot bitch like Dasani ever love him?

She, meanwhile, thought G 7th.

The train finally arrived and they both jumped on and were whisked away into the night.

They planned on staying on the train for as long as it took to pass by somewhere exciting. That meant they had a long time alone together.

Thus commenced the most intense game of thumb-war known to man or dog or werewolf-man.

Afterwards they fell back, exhausted, and lay side by side looking up at the ceiling and breathing heavily.

'Wow, that was amazing,' said Dasani.

Walter lit a cigarette.

The cigarette burned down the train.

But it's okay because they were just passing by a beautiful island in Las Vegas. It would make a perfect place to start a new life.

The natives, as it happened, all spoke guitar chord. This was quite a delightful turn of events at first, but it left old Walter feeling left out.

Jorge tried to cheer him up with a knock knock joke.

"Knock knock"

"I am the one who knocks!" Walter cried, running to his tent and slamming the door.

He wanted Dasani to be happy, and she was happy here, being able to talk and all. But he couldn't speak guitar chord any more than he could choose to be a werewolf. Oh wait, he could choose to be a werewolf. He just didn't see any reason to do it more often than once a month.

But right then and there he resolved to stay werewolf always because he was ashamed of not being able to speak and wanted to hide himself.

When Dasani saw him she went 'phwoar.' She'd always had a thing for hair.

He managed to explain himself with a few dog noises, which she totes understood since she was a dog anyway. So everything worked out pretty damn well even if it was all by accident. They could sit around with their guitar chord friends, and whenever Dasani wanted to tell Walter something dirty like what she'd make him do for her later they could switch to dog speak. And everyone lived happily ever after and there were lots of puppies involved who spoke both guitar chord and dog, and grew up to be successful translators.