It’s Nickleback. The song is called The Hammer’s Coming Down. And this is all Kris Norris fault.
I’m also sorry for the silliness for this flash fiction. I’m under a terribly busy schedule and wasn’t sure if I could participate in this exercise but I’ve decided I don’t want to let my girls hanging and just needed to set down a little time and muscle through it. It’s good for me to write and I do need the practice. Don’t forget to visit the other ladies:
Here is my entry for our song inspired Flash Fiction post for March.
I Do Not Like This
His brows were furrowed and the lights of the jukebox were reflecting off his face. Neon tubes pulsated on a colored metallic surface, blinking, and shining like nothing he had ever seen before. The rest of the bar was dingy and dark, much like the patrons. Many hard lined faces looked his way, watching him with curiosity. Judging the outsider with cold mugs of beer in hands or on tables, cigarettes hanging out of faded flannel pockets.
“What is this?” He asked, his voice hard and demanding.
The bartender leans over with a smile cocked on his face, “It plays music.”
The foreigner leans forward, dirty blonde hair cascading over his shoulders and his red cape scraping the dust on the floor.
“So, uh, guy. Aren’t you suppose to be somewhere doing…whatever it is you do?” A small man asks. His hair tousled with sweat and grease, his work boots worn, exposing the steel toe.
“I wait.” His voice says loudly, his eyes still locked on the jukebox, “My companions will come.”
The small man raises an eyebrow, “Oookay then. You want a quarter?”
“For what reason would I need your currency?”
The patron raises from his seat and digs into his pocket, coins clinking against each other. Removing his hand, he pulls loose change from his pocket and approaches the jukebox. The foreign man towers over the patron but his expression is both curious and judging with caution as the patron hands him a coin.
“You just put this in the slot right there and pick a letter and a number, then a song will play. Hey, can I…uh.” The small patron reaches up and taps the foreigners breast plate. “Well shit, that is real armor.”
“I am real.”
“Yup. You are the real deal.” Shuffling his feet nervously, the small man moves a few steps back, “My name is Gary.”
“I am Thor of Asgard.” Without a word more he took the coin and placed it into the jukebox, pressing letters and numbers at random. Mechanical sounds emerge from the machine and the lights come to life, brightening and pulsating in a rapid pattern. With a quick motion, Thor stands prepared, pushing his cape to his side. Music emerges and dominates the quiet of the room but creates a deafening tension as Thor appears alarmed and the patrons nervous. A few take their glasses and slide away from the bar, moving to tables at the far end of the room.
Gary holds up his hands defensively, “This is all it does!” He yells over the music. “It just plays music.”
“Why does he speak of my Mjolnir?”
“This man, he speaks of Mjolnir.”
Gary lowers his hands but Thor does not lower his defenses. Looking at the jukebox Gary replies, “You picked Nickleback ‘The Hammers Coming Down.’ It’s just a song.”
Thor moves his stance, broadening his chest, and gestures with his hammer. “I do not like this. This displeases me.”
“You can’t turn it off. It has to finish the song.”
Raising his arm, hammer in hand, Gary dodges quickly out of the way as Thor brings the hammer down. Pieces of glass, plastic, and metal scatter across the room. The bartender disappears behind the bar, hiding as debris crashes into the glasses behind him. A few patrons yell out in shock and cover their head with their arms.
A few seconds pass feeling heavy as if they had been minutes or hours. The bartender slowly rises and only a few patrons uncover themselves to see the damage done.
“I think you need to wait for your friends outside.” The bartender says, voice shaking.
“Is there a music outside?” Thor kicks pieces of destroyed jukebox away from his armor clad feet.
The bartender shakes his head quickly, “I promise you, there is no music outside.”
“Then so it be done.” And with a few long strides and heavy steps, his red cape flicked behind him as the exit door closed.