The Battle of the Century

Thanksgiving

Wes and I were walking down the street to the grocery store on Thanksgiving morning when we stopped by the music store where it looked like Dale was having a full-blown panic and Luther was just looking at him. Luther looked confused.
"Guys!" Dale spotted us. "Music competition!"
"What?" I couldn't understand him.
The next thing Dale said was gibberish.
"Dale." Wes said. "Slow the hell down. What. Are. You. Saying?"
"There's a music battle thing next month." Dale's facial expression looked like that of a kid in a candy shop. "Rumor has it that Chuck Berry is going to be there!"
Chuck Berry was one of mine and Wes' favorite musicians.
"Where do we sign up?!" Wes started jumping like a frog.
"Inside the music store, when it opens." Luther said. "But there is a sort of downside."
Wes stopped. "Eh?"
"There's only one last entry and a bunch of the disco kids are waiting out back. Where Jim comes in."
Shit. This was gonna be a hell of a time.
Our friend, Lars, walked up to us.
Lars is a student from Norway who is very into disco and doesn't really like rock n' roll like I did.
"Hey Lars." Wes waved.
"You are trying to sign up for the competition, yeah?" He looked at the flyer for it. "You know disco is what is most popular right now. Have you tried it?"
"Nah. Disco isn't our thing." Dale sighed. "It's alright but I ain't too in the scene of it."
"Lars!" Fred Banks and Manny Gilley, two more of our friends, emerged into our mob. "You rock n' rollers wanna sign up for this?"
I always thought Fred and Manny were brothers because they're so alike with the disco and the weirdness and they're always getting each other into trouble.
"Yessss." Wes was enchanted by the flyer. "We do."
"Ya know," Fred looked at me. "Disco is taking over. You guys should try that."
"Nah." Wes said. Rock and Roll forever, man."
"You and your rocking and rolling." Manny looked at us. "Disco is stomping it."
Jim, the store owner, unlocked the door. Wes, Dale, and I rushed in.
"Signing up for the music battle?" Jim asked.
Jim is an older man in his mid forties. He's got a calm attitude and he talks about Woodstock all the time.
"Yes." I said.
"Good thing you got in here before Raigner." Jim said. "I told him and his band to go around front like everyone else."
Lars and the others entered the store.
"Hey Fred!" Dale looked over his shoulder. "We need some drums!"
"I can't drum for you." Fred sighed.
Luther looked at Dale with a sort of gleam in his eye. "I can drum for you." He said.
"Luther." Dale raised an eyebrow. "Do you even know how to drum?"
Luther grabbed a set of drumsticks and went to the drum setup on display. He played a really, cool, badass drum solo so fast that it felt like minutes and seconds at the same time.
"Still need a drummer?" Luther crossed his arms.
"Just got a drummer." Dale said. "His name's Luther."
In my band, The Knights, there was Dale on saxophone, Wes on the bass, me on lead guitar, Denise Davis on backup guitar and secondary vocals, and Dale got Luther on as our permanent drummer.
Denise is the only one I haven't mentioned. Denise is my girl best friend. We hang out when we can. Usually meaning when her friends aren't up for anything and my friends aren't up for anything including anytime Wes got sick.
Back on track now, we were walking out of the music store when the Raigners spotted us.
"Hey!" Marshal shouted. "THEY ARE THE ONES WHO STOLE OUR ENTRY?!"
"Marshal is a bitch." Fred ran past them.
They turned around to chase Fred.
I remembered that I was only supposed to go with Wes and get a turkey because I was still grounded. But Wes could just tell dad that he signed me up.
"Come on, Wes." I looked at him. "Let's get to the store before Sharon finds out."
We continued to the store. When we got there Jenny was standing right at the door.
"Hey, Tom." She said.
"Oh hey." I replied.
She followed us inside. We talked for a while then got back on track with picking up our stuff.
Wes and I picked up the turkey, some eggs, milk, and flour. We got the flour when Jerry and Don showed up.

"It's Davidson!" Jerry shouted.

Wes jumped in the cart. "Go, go, go!" he chanted.

I ran down the frozen section with Jerry and Don, their feet rapidly pounding behind us.