The Devil on Kazoo

8: The Mad Teddy's

"Laid on the ground shook
Fearin' for his life
Then he ran all the way to town
Screamin', "It came out of the sky""

"It Came Out of the Sky" by Creedence Clearwater Revival

The last thing Bash expected to see that day was Syl and Kathy falling from the heavens.

In fact, when he'd woken up on that fateful morning, he hadn't expected to do anything but write a new song.

He'd been picking out riffs and melodies on his guitar for months now and he just needed the words to go along with it.

For Bash, study was his inhale, and playing was his exhale. He'd felt like he was doing a lot of inhaling lately.

Syl was the one who usually helped him with the lyrics, but she'd been so wrapped up in her latest painting that they hadn't gotten a chance to sit down together and write.

That Sunday morning, Bash had decided that he'd end the day with a new song or his name wasn't Sebastian Gibbs.

Apparently, fate had other plans, because the moment Syl and Kathy mentioned leaving the boat for the day, something came over Bash.

This "something" was an unusual feeling for him. It was curiosity. It was mischief. It was a protective instinct to take precautions regarding the things he cared for the most: The Crumbs and the ability to share music with the world.

So, he and Smiley devised a plan.

It took some convincing to sell Smiley on the idea; Bash being the dreamer and Smiley being the one who yanked his head out of the clouds.

It was a raggedy plan mostly made up on the way to Burrells Wharf itself, but the boys were confident in their ability to pass as potential Mad Teddy members.

Their father, who had fought during the Second World War, often told them stories about double agents infiltrating the Third Reich by pretending to be German soldiers.

Bash had always been fascinated by these tales of British heroes saving England by gathering intelligence and sneaking it back to the homeland.

Wasn't this, in one sense, what they were doing? Bash thought so. Smiley disagreed.

"Syl's going to be angry," Smiley told him as they made their way onto the polished docks.

"Not if we don't tell her," Bash replied. "Besides, we're only doing this for the good of the radio."

"You mean for the good of our radio. Not theirs."

"Precisely. Ours. The best radio."

Smiley lifted an eyebrow. "You've sure got a lot of confidence for a bloke wearing a moth-eaten sports jacket and clown shoes."

Bash looked down at his attire, then at Smiley's. He shrugged.

"It's all part of the act."

They made their way up to the yacht.

Bash whistled as he beheld its splendor. "Money can't buy happiness, but it sure comes close with this dapper thing, doesn't it?"

"You sound like an old man."

Smiley knocked on the side of the boat, as there was not currently a door in sight.

A young man appeared from the upper deck, his eyes scrutinizing but not angry.