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A flash fiction story 

Denis, Denis

The youth club was just what Michael and Ian had been waiting for. Usually there was nothing to do in the village but now, on a Monday evening, they had somewhere they could go. Music, table tennis and time away from their parents.

It was 1977 but more important than the Queen’s Jubilee to them both was Blondie. With Michael’s new purchase held tightly in his hand they made their way to the record player which stood on a wobbly decorator’s table next to the stage. They patiently waited for the dreary Emerson, Lake and Palmer album to finish its run. It seemed like they had stood in the same spot for days when, finally, it came to its climax. They seized their moment. Onto the turntable went Blondie. ‘Denis, Denis’ belted out across the hall. Michael and Ian leaped up and down pogoing to the song. Causing it to jump a number of times.  They moved a little further away from the record player and continued leaping frenetically into the air.

They must have played it at least six times. The happy thirteen year olds loved the song. Tonight would go down as one of the most exciting that they had ever known. Although they had been warned not to play the song one more time by a small group of angry, bigger and much older Emerson, Lake and Palmer fans they just didn’t care. On it went again and once again they pogoed with gay abandon.

From the other side of the hall the group of ELP fans came rushing towards Michael and Ian. A big mass of long, angry hair was about to grab them and do their worst. They scooped up Ian and bundled him into the Gent’s toilet. They lowered his head down into the toilet bowl and flushed it. This was no baptism and smacked of injustice. Ian was unsure why he had been the chosen one and not Michael? It was Michael’s record, after all. Ian was left to wander back into the hall his hair dripping wet. Although a little shaken, Ian walked up to the record player. The ELP fans looked and laughed. Ian placed the needle on the record one final time and ran for his life out into the night. Michael was waiting for him outside. They both decided to head for home. As they wandered along the dimly lit path that lead to their homes Ian knew that he had, that night, taken a brave stand against Prog-rock.  

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