fandomhighdorms | Fourth Floor Common Room, Thursday Evening, The Barry Gibb Talk Show

The fourth floor common room had been transformed. Do not ask how the best talk show hosts ever had found a disco ball to hang from the ceiling, one that showed off their matching white double-breasted pantsuits. They were here to sing about politics and chew bubble gum, and they were all out of gum.

There were chairs arranged in a semi-circle, for the important political guests, brothers Barry Gibb and Robin Gibb (also known as the surviving two thirds of the best effing band ever, the Bee Gees) faced away from the studio audience. As if on cue, Barry and Robin spun around, and began to sing.

"Here we are
In a room full of strangers
Discussing politics
And the issues of the day
Well, I want to talk to you
Though you may not want me to
I'm still gonna talk to you
I don't care what you say

Talkin' it up
On the Barry Gibb talk show
Talkin' bout issues
Talkin' bout real important issues
Talkin' it up
On the Barry Gibb talk show
Talkin' bout politics
In this crazy, crazy town
Oh yeah
Yeah yeah
Yeah yeah"

So maybe George and Squall had been gremlin-bit earlier this evening and thought they were washed-up disco superstars now hosting a belligerent talk show about politics. That might be cool, too.

(~~There will be OCD for this.~~ OCD UP! Come be a guest on the show, or a member of the studio audience, or stand in the back with a camera! JOIN US.)

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Crisis averted for the moment, "Barry" straightened his jacket, sat back down, and puffed out his chest. "Well," he said. "Well, that's better. Now, Gov-er-nor Hay-ley, tell us your thoughts on the Re-pub-li-can primary."

Robin, who was largely useless except as back-up vocals, chose that moment for another harmonizing assist.

"Pri-hi-hi-hi, pri-mary race, pri-mary race. Pri-hi-hi-hi, pri-mary race, pri-mary race."

It wasn't ripping off "Stayin' Alive" if you wrote "Stayin' Alive."

Edited 2012-01-06 02:59 (UTC)

"I don't really think I have any," Dorothy said. This was all so very strange. She was not only from a different time, but didn't pay much heed to politics in her own time.

"I don't think I even know what a primary is, actually. So it would be hard to have an opinion without knowing anything."

"You're... you're Governor of South Carolina and you have no clue how politics work. How typical. Typical of Americans and your complete..." He trailed off, and then stood up and yelled again. "Do you know who I am? I'm BARRY EFFIN' GIBB! I grew up on the streets of Sydney!" He started flailing around with kicks that looked vaguely kung-fu-ish and vaguely dance-like but mostly stupid. "I'm from effin' AUSTRALIA, where men are men and women are men and politicians better know their stuff or we'll EFF THEM UP!!! You wouldn't last TEN MINUTES there!!! A koala would eat you in the EFFING AIRPORT!!!"

Robin jumped up so he could turn Barry's insane ramblings into a neat little riff.

"Eat-en by ko-alas, in the air-port! Eat-en! By ko-alas! In the air-port! (Right in the air-port!) In the air-port! (Right in the air-port!) Eat-en right in the air-port! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!"

Robin was totally pulling his weight as cohost. Really.

Edited 2012-01-06 03:37 (UTC)

"I've dealt with worse than koalas," Dorothy said politely. "Witches and wheelers and flying monkeys. But I do know there are lots of dangerous animals in Australia. I suppose this explains your... particular attitudes."

She assumed growing up with angry animals might make one somewhat surly and rude.

Robin at least understood the undercurrent, and decided now was a good time to cut in.

"He missed his nap today."

"Ohhhhh," Dorothy said with an understanding nod. "I know the cows can get just as ornery if they miss their naps. I guess it can't be helped."

She was so patient.

"DID YOU JUST CALL ME A COW!?!?!?"

Barry turned around and kicked his chair clear across the room.

"I'm BARRY EFFIN' GIBB!!! I grew up in Queensland, Australia!!! I lived for three months with a family of Tasmanian devils, and then killed them with my mind!! ARE YOU CALLING BARRY EFFIN' GIBB A COW?!?!?!"

Robin facepalmed. Again.

Apparently, nothing in that particular rant struck him as a useful musical cue, so he was sitting it out.

"That doesn't seem very nice," Dorothy objected. "If they were kind enough to let you live with them, why would you do that?"

She was starting to give up on being polite to this boy. He seemed just downright wicked.

Barry was starting to foam at the mouth a little, now. "BECAUSE I'M BARRY EFFIN' GIBB!!!"

He got right up in Dorothy's face, and while the real Barry Gibb might be kind of goofy-looking, Squall most assuredly was not.

"I'm Barry Gibb, and this is the Barry Gibb Talk Show! If you talk back to me, I will rip out your spleen and play ping-pong with it on national television, and then pour hot coffee in your gaping wound!!! That's what we do in Australia to people who are RUDE!!!"

"Not really," Robin said. He finally stood up again, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You're not s'posed to scare off guests any more," he said. "'Sbad for ratings."

Dorothy was only fourteen, and even if she'd faced things such as wheelers and witches and wizards, this was actually pretty scary.

So you'll have to excuse her for getting teary-eyed and getting out of her seat very quickly.

"You're very rude," she said, hurrying for the door of the common room.

Squall would be very, very sorry tomorrow.

"Score one for Barreeeeeeeeeeee!" he sang, doing a dance. "Score one! For Barry! Score one! For Barry!"

Robin looked at his brother distastefully.

"You're telling the network," he said.

Barry looked wounded. "Come o-on, Rob-in, don't do this to me," he pleaded. "Robin, I'm your brother. Don't do this, Robin. Don't look at me like that."

"No," pouted Robin, looking away.

"Come on, Robin, talk to your brother. We're brothers. We were babies at the same time. We had the same parents, Robin. The same PARENTS."

He reached out a hand imploringly, and began singing. "Ma-ma, da-da. Ma-ma, da-da. Bar-ry and Rob-in. We-are fam'-ly"

Robin didn't want to look back, but he couldn't resist the siren call of his brother's falsetto.

"Bar-ry and Rob-in, We-are fam'-ly, Bar-ry and Rob-in, we-are fam'-ly, Ma-ma, da-da, Bar-ry and Rob-in, we-are fam'ly, all the Gibb fam'ly, mak-ing mus-ic, all the Gibb fam'ly, stayin' to-gether, fam'ly, fam'ly, yeah (yeah!)"

"Stayin' together, stayin' alive, livin' together, singin' together, Barry and Robin yeah yeah yeah yeaaaaaaah!"

Fourth Floor Common Room, Thursday Evening, The Barry Gibb Talk Show

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