Work Text:
Tommy’s head bobbed along to the song blaring in his headphones. It was actually a classic, according to Tubbo-
Queen’s “Don’t stop me now”.
He needed a new act. Something exciting. Just got bored too easily, much like the class he was in.
“Some of you are on the track for all A’s in your gcses” His teacher drawled, sparing a disapproving glance at Tommy and his cherry red airpods. “Some of you however,” Her attention glancing back around the room “Will need to pull up your socks.”
Tommy yawned into the music. He could pull up his socks just fine, what did the Tommyinnit have to worry about when it came to stupid school?
He really liked this song so far. It was the kind of energy to get a crowd completely worked up- Tommy’s greatest strength.
He wondered for a minute. He wasn’t about to sing, he wouldn’t dare try to match Freddie Mercury when it came to vocals. (He’d give him a run for his money in sass, though.)
Wilbur offered to teach him to play guitar once- He’d opted out.
He remembered Ranboo- They’d once stood onstage for an entirety of 60 whole seconds, declaring “it’s a mental breakdown!” and proceeding to play the intro to what sounded like The final countdown on a bright blue, completely plastic poundland kazoo. The crowd didn’t recover for nearly twenty minutes.
He posed his question to Tubbo later that day, changing out of his loathed uniform. “Do we still have that bag of kazoos?”
Tubbo nearly wheezed.
“What?”
Tommy explained his plan- which involved coaxing Wilbur into singing along to Tommy's musical accompaniment of don’t stop me now on the kazoo- in great detail.
He thought Tubbo was going to pass out from laughter-
It was pretty funny, he supposed.
The first part of his plan was easy- convince Wilbur.
He laid out three wigs. Whichever one Wilbur tripped over, Tommy would pretend to be extremely upset, inconsolable even. It worked like a charm, being the youngest of Phil’s lot so far had to count for something
Wilbur’s eyes had gone wide, hand on his shoulder the way you might calm a screaming toddler. He was so grateful to avoid more drama he didn’t even question such a peculiar request, leaving Tommy and Tubbo to celebrate another victory.
The second part of his plan didn’t go so smoothly.
“Ten quid for a piece of plastic? I’d rather pluck the lace on Phil’s wig, and that thing is ancient.”
He said, draping himself over the couch after coming back from what felt like a grand tour of London itself trying to find a kazoo.
“You don’t mean that.” Tubbo said, threading a sequin carefully through a pretty black and white skirt. Tommy nodded. That thing was so old it would probably just shed dust if you touched it too harshly.
He sighed.
“I have an ocarina?” Wilbur’s voice rang through the room with a laugh. Tommy shrugged.
“What the hell is an ocarina?”
“It’s an instrument, dumbass.” Wilbur tossed it to Tommy, who just about caught the blue instrument in his hands. He rubbed his thumb across the holes, blowing into it for good measure.
“It looks like a sex toy.” He said, deadpan.
Tubbo chimed in. “Or a misshapen flute-”
Wilbur snorted. “You want it or not, brat?”
Tommy held it close to his chest. He wasn’t about to just let this go.
“How dare you disrespect our relationship like that! I love her!” He yelled, drama heightening in his voice.
This sent Tubbo reeling. “It would be a she, wouldn’t it?”
He threw it at the shorter boy, turning to sniff the air like a prissy old queen.
“Leave me and my wife out of this”
-
Within the last week, Tommy had managed to drive every performer in the building absolutely insane. He just happened to love playing different tunes and trying new breath patterns.
Techno of course had tried (and failed) to hide it on him several times, which only spurred Tommy on more to practice through the thin walls of the upstairs apartment.
At one point, someone (his current suspect was Phil himself) had hidden it so far away they had to send an army of half-dressed drag queens all the way down Chinatown to retrieve it from what looked like a makeshift church. If they could even call it that.
Quicker than anticipated, Friday rolled around. Tommy slipped on a rather dramatic mermaid gown complete with green and gold sequins, with a beard and eyeliner to match. He decided his ocarina, which he’d now named Linda- would be the defining inspiration for his wig.
He worked the audience with ease once he stepped out, welcoming Wilbur onstage. He got confused and exasperated looks alike, mainly from the queens in the back.
As he started the first few notes, the crowd erupted into fits of laughter.
Under all the lights, accompanied by Wilbur's attempts to keep in tune with Tommy's frantic (and quite frankly erratic) breath-
He felt a little like how Lady Godiva must’ve.
“I’m going to break that thing.”
Techno mused after the show, humming a few bars of don’t stop me now under his breath.
“You sure about that, big man?”