Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Earworm
"And the award for Best Music Video goes to..."
Gerard heard and felt his own breathing come to a stop. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so nervous. But it wasn't because he thought they wouldn't win.
He was worried about the song. He had forgotten it for most of the afternoon, but he knew it was just biding its time, waiting to resurface like an evil sea monster that would eat him alive-
"Gerard, let's go already!" said his brother excitedly. Gerard looked at Mikey, who was standing next to him and offering one hand.
"Why?" he asked placidly.
"We won, genius. 'Welcome to the Black Parade' won!" Gerard smiled and stood, leading the other band members up to the stage as cheers erupted from the audience. He remembered how awesome it had been to make that video. He gladly took the trophy and gave it to Frank, who raised it above his head and smiled.
"Thank you. Wow, looks like we've done something right for once!" Gerard said into the microphone. The crowd laughed. "There are so many people that helped us get here and make this all possible for us, mainly-"
Llama in a car, alarm a llama, llama, DUCK!
His face fell. He knew it. The song was back with a vengeance.
"Gerard, now is not the time to be talking about llamas!" Ray hissed at him. He swallowed nervously and refocused his thoughts.
"...I mean...not llamas..." He cursed to himself, careful not to speak into the mic.
Is that how it's told now? Is it all so old? Is it made of lemon juice? Doorknob, ankle, cold.
"I can't take it anymore!" he shouted, holding his hands over his ears and collapsing to his knees. "It's driving me crazy!" The band members rushed to his aid, though Frank was careful to set the award in a safe place.
"What is it, Gerard?" Mikey asked worriedly. Gerard looked out at the audience, a faraway look in his eyes.
Now my song is getting thin; I've run out of luck.
"Oh, you've run out of luck alright," he said darkly. He thought he saw a theatre full of llamas laughing at him.
"Snap out of it!" said Frank, waving a hand in front of his face.
"Gerard, are you okay?" asked Bob.
Time for me to retire now and become a DUCK!
A swift punch to the forehead sent the drummer sprawling. Gerard nearly pounced on him in rage, but Mikey and Ray managed to hold him back. Frank helped Bob stand up, ignoring the fact that his nose was now bleeding profusely.
"What's your problem?" Frank asked with a frown. Gerard just growled.
"I guess I deserved that," said Bob, tilting his head back and staring at the ceiling to slow the bleeding. A tech person ran out to see if he needed help, but he waved her away.
"What for?" Ray asked in confusion. Bob smirked in spite of his injury.
"The Llama Song."
Gerard would have attacked him again had he not blacked out.
Gerard heard and felt his own breathing come to a stop. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so nervous. But it wasn't because he thought they wouldn't win.
He was worried about the song. He had forgotten it for most of the afternoon, but he knew it was just biding its time, waiting to resurface like an evil sea monster that would eat him alive-
"Gerard, let's go already!" said his brother excitedly. Gerard looked at Mikey, who was standing next to him and offering one hand.
"Why?" he asked placidly.
"We won, genius. 'Welcome to the Black Parade' won!" Gerard smiled and stood, leading the other band members up to the stage as cheers erupted from the audience. He remembered how awesome it had been to make that video. He gladly took the trophy and gave it to Frank, who raised it above his head and smiled.
"Thank you. Wow, looks like we've done something right for once!" Gerard said into the microphone. The crowd laughed. "There are so many people that helped us get here and make this all possible for us, mainly-"
Llama in a car, alarm a llama, llama, DUCK!
His face fell. He knew it. The song was back with a vengeance.
"Gerard, now is not the time to be talking about llamas!" Ray hissed at him. He swallowed nervously and refocused his thoughts.
"...I mean...not llamas..." He cursed to himself, careful not to speak into the mic.
Is that how it's told now? Is it all so old? Is it made of lemon juice? Doorknob, ankle, cold.
"I can't take it anymore!" he shouted, holding his hands over his ears and collapsing to his knees. "It's driving me crazy!" The band members rushed to his aid, though Frank was careful to set the award in a safe place.
"What is it, Gerard?" Mikey asked worriedly. Gerard looked out at the audience, a faraway look in his eyes.
Now my song is getting thin; I've run out of luck.
"Oh, you've run out of luck alright," he said darkly. He thought he saw a theatre full of llamas laughing at him.
"Snap out of it!" said Frank, waving a hand in front of his face.
"Gerard, are you okay?" asked Bob.
Time for me to retire now and become a DUCK!
A swift punch to the forehead sent the drummer sprawling. Gerard nearly pounced on him in rage, but Mikey and Ray managed to hold him back. Frank helped Bob stand up, ignoring the fact that his nose was now bleeding profusely.
"What's your problem?" Frank asked with a frown. Gerard just growled.
"I guess I deserved that," said Bob, tilting his head back and staring at the ceiling to slow the bleeding. A tech person ran out to see if he needed help, but he waved her away.
"What for?" Ray asked in confusion. Bob smirked in spite of his injury.
"The Llama Song."
Gerard would have attacked him again had he not blacked out.
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