Xander was able to make good time to the auditorium since he followed the path everyone else in the school was taking. Thankfully there was no assigned seating and Xander was able to sit in the back near the aisle. Xander didn’t like being in the front of a crowd, there were too many people that could watch him from behind.
When Xander sat down, the guy next to him gave him a sidelong look like people give when they’re staring without meaning to stare. After a little while, Xander asked the guy, “What?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” the mob character said, ”It’s just… why are you wearing so many bandages?”
“I got hurt.”
“Really? Because… I don’t see any obvious injuries on you…”
“I got better.”
Before the nitwit mob character could say anything else, there was a tonally shabby set of musical notes denoting the beginning of the assembly. A spotlight appeared that shone upon the stage of the auditorium with an unenthusiastic voice saying over the loudspeaker, “And now, the principal of Maoujanai Highschool will give the commencement speech.”
The voice sounded a lot like the announcer of K-Billy Supersounds of the 70’s from Reservoir Dogs…
And from the side of the stage emerged a man wearing a burgundy colored silk suit of immaculate tailorship design, with a head of hair that started black, became more and more deeply crimson red as it went down to brightly burning embers at the ends. He nonchalantly walked over to the podium and tapped on the headset mic that was set over his right ear. After the annoying THUMP THUMP of his striking the mic finished resounding, he struck the mic a few more times, making a mini-beatbox out of the action. While that was going on, Xander muttered out of amazement and confusion, “Chaz? I thought he was the narrator?”
Chaz then stood bolt upright and shouted at the sky above him, arms outstretched, “I am whatever I choose to be!”
Chaz performed a rather thorough clearing of his throat, straightened his tie, tapped some bullet point cards into a proper pile on the podium, then threw them at the audience like he was a shitty impersonation of David Letterman. One person in the audience gave a pained scream as Chaz shouted, “W’azzup, everyone! I’m your Friendly Neighborhood Entity of Pure Chaos, Chaz! And yes, I have incomprehensible powers at my beck and call whenever I wish for them, and whenever I don’t! And I’ve made my stupidly overpowered self your principle for this spin off series, so I hope you pubescent and hormonally overcharged mortals appreciate it. And if not, who the fuck cares. I don’t!”
Xander cradled his face in his hands, wishing he was stuck in a bad dream. The kind of strange and incomprehensible dream you only had after eating something spicy right before bed. But Chaz just continued on.
“Now, I know it can be a little intimidating to be in the presence of someone who’s consumed entire dimensions… Actually, I don’t because I’ve never met anything more awesome than myself, but it’s humble for me to pretend, at least. What was I saying? Oh, that you’re insignificant in my presence and some kind words to allay your fears. Well, don’t worry, I don’t have plans to tear your Spin Off Series reality asunder and swallow your souls as I do so. You’re welcome. And in return I have a request of all of you students, as your principal. And that is not to be good student who strive for academic excellence or to follow the rules. All I want is to be entertained. So that means you can all do whatever the fuck you want to do.”
Xander whispered to himself, “I seriously doubt Chaz knows jack shit about being a principal.”
From on stage, Chaz continued his little one man show, amusing only himself, and potentially a few fangirls of his that read this spin off series. And the progression of Chaz’s little speech for his own entertainment involved him pulling an electric guitar from the opening inside the body of the podium, which he then kicked out of his way and off the stage. It ended up landing on the same guy that was hit by the cards earlier and he cried out in pain again.
“Now for the concert,” shouted Chaz, as the curtains behind him opened up and a stage platform with the other three members of “Chaz and the Chazlings” rolled up for Chaz to step onto. “Let me introduce the band for you all!”
“First, your lead guitarist and lead vocals, myself, Chaz!”
Chaz indicated to his left, where there was a man wearing super baggy pants and a ratty hoodie. His face was smushed together like he’d just eaten a pointlessly rebellious lemon. “Playing the thankless task of the bass, is Chaz!” And it was indeed Chaz, wearing a knit beanie that said in stitching, ‘My Grandma knit me this hat.’
Chaz pointed a thumb behind his shoulder towards the drummer who had aviator shades, a stained bandanna, and a sleeveless white shirt on that clearly showed massive sweat stains on it. “Playing the drums, is Chaz!” For some reason, this Chaz only had one arm.
Chaz then indicated to his right, to a man wearing a tight brown shirt and blue jeans. He had a beard and curly brown hair while wearing rose tinted sunglasses. “And playing on the cowbell, is Will Ferrell!” And by god, it really was him!
And thus Chaz and the Chazlings began to perform Don’t Fear the Reaper as a megatron screen showed the frets and animations of the song behind the band. Yes, the frets. Because the Chazlings were all playing the Rock Band video game instruments and not real instruments. Moreover they had horrible coordination, getting one in ten frets per performer and Chaz’s singing voice was completely off tone. Like he wasn’t even trying to be on key and was just freestyle karaoke performing. The only one who was doing well was Will Ferrell, who was squirming his body around and swinging his hips like they were lethal weapons as he smacked his cowbell which he held above his head.
It was a detestable thirty second in which Xander’s only solace was that the graphic behind the Chazlings was blinking red, showing that they were on the verge of losing the level and all the spectators would be released from their aural suffering in a few moments. And then the indicators for the instruments all hit rock bottom of the progress indicator and nothing happened. After a moment of mortified confusion, Xander exclaimed, “Chaz turned on ‘No Fail Mode!’”
After another five minutes of plink plonking, wink wonking, dink donking and the like, the song came to an end. Chaz wiped his forehead as though he’d accomplished some great and satisfying feat and said, “Alright! Great! Thanks for this Will Ferrell, you were on fire!” The two then fist bumped. “You ready for the next set?”
“You know it, babe!”
“Alright! Wayward Son, next!”
“That song doesn’t even have any cowbell,” shouted Xander in exasperation.
“Like I care,” shouted Chaz back. “One-two, one-two-three-four!”
The next song turned into an exact repeat performance, including the completely pointlessly involved cowbell. Xander silently stood up and walked out of the auditorium, his next destination being his own home to rest and recover his will to live.