Watch Guitar Jaguar Fly

The green Jaguar was flying down the road, the engine screaming out a mad cacophony of metal parts moving against metal parts. The driver of the beautiful car was frowning, his face pinched into a grimace, giving him an odd resemblance to a fly with his huge bulging eyes, long thin nose and tightly pursed lips. He glanced at his watch and mumbled a curse under his breath. He was going to be late.

A few moments later, he could see his destination come into view. The glare of the neon lights calmed him, and he hoped that the manager of the bar would be forgiving of his tardiness. The driver slammed on the brakes in the gravel parking lot, halting the car in spray of pebbles and dust. He reached for the guitar case in the back seat, got out and started running for the door that the entertainment was supposed to use to get backstage.

Once inside, he removed the instrument and played a few chords as the manager yelled at him for being so late for the set. But because of all the noise, he couldn’t tell that the guitar was out of tune until he was on stage and starting to play the gig. The boos and hisses from the audience over the lousy sounding guitar made him even angrier than he already was. When a beer bottle went whizzing past his head, he walked off the stage, got in his car and drove away.

He was never asked to play at that bar again, nor did he ever want to do so. It was the worst night he had ever had when playing guitar for a crowd.

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The title of this piece came from the four words I needed to use within the story itself as part of an assignment for the writing club at my college. The story itself was, and still is, not that great, but for about 15 minutes of thinking and writing, I think it came out okay.