Karaoke

[Martin Hash]

The CBDL (Comic Book Defense League) put on a karaoke party in the Sheraton Inn during Megacon to raise donations. The idea was that fanboys would pony up $20 to force some poor artist or writer to strut their stuff on the microphone. My brother, Marshall, and I were there for the pre-party food. Marshall didn't want to stay for the main event. "I've never been to karaoke and I don't plan on this being my first time," Marshall told me flatly.

"Let's stay just a minute to see if anybody famous shows up," I pleaded.

"No," he said unequivocally.

"I'm driving and I'm staying," I insisted.

Marshall looked angry but he didn't move to leave. I think he was curious.

The MC came to the stage. "That's Mark Waid. He wrote 'Kingdom Come'," I told Marshall. Marshall obviously didn't know that Kingdom Come was one of the most successful graphics novels of all time.

The first guy must have practiced. He sang Frank Sinatra's "My Way", and he did a decent non-embarrassing job of it.
"That's George Perez - the famous penciler," I said. Marshall wasn't impressed.

Then there was a pause. They were making an announcement about somebody's keys being left at the podium. Some guy I'd seen around the show went to pick them up. The guy was scary. He was well over six feet tall with at least three-foot long straight, glossy black and bright orange hair and a mephisto beard. He was dressed all in black with black boots. His t-shirt read, "Smoke Crack, Worship Satan". His only jewelry was a large silver pentagram necklace.

"I'm glad he's not singing," I told Marshall.

Just then, four or five other guys rushed up and grabbed the big guy. He struggled to get away but without causing a commotion he had to stay. "We got a hundred bucks for you to do your part for the CBDL," Mark Waid said smugly.

"Hell, no!" was the big guy's immediate response. "Let go of me!"

"You've been asked to do 'Wake Me Up Before You Go' by Wham."

The audience gasped. Wham was an old 80's George Michaels pop group; clean cut, dressed all in white and wore slogans on their t-shirts that said "Choose Life".

When the song and video first started, the big guy struggled to free himself but wouldn't sing. The crowd started to boo. The public censor must have sunk in because the big guy started to sing. In crackly falsetto, off-key, pretending to use a beer bottle as a microphone, this guy mumbled and missed all the lines - he was awful. Eventually he gave up singing and pitifully tried to moon walk. Mr. "Smoke Crack, Worship Satan" finally stopped the travesty, yelled "F**k it!", threw his beer bottle at the stage, and stormed out of the room.

My mouth was hanging open in astonishment. The crowd was silent. Before I could recover my composure, Marshall leaned over and whispered, "So this is karaoke... This is pretty good."