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Grace had never been the type for romance - she would retch and sputter at the mere mention of a rose and gag at the couples making out in the hallway. But there was just something about this girl, this sheer aura radiating off of her that almost made her reconsider.
Of course, Lambchops was sceptical when Carmen first joined the band - she’s not really the type for good first impressions and made that very clear with her jeering and slamming of her drums when Carmen entered the room - but after hearing that voice, that beautiful, sweet voice, something inside her shifted. She noticed the way she moved when she sung, the way her hips swayed slowly from side to side as if they were taunting her. She noticed the way she closed her eyes when hitting those notes that were almost out of her reach, and the way she clutched her dusty, barely-functional mic as if letting go would be the end of the world. She noticed how Schlomo looked at her.
It was almost pathetic, watching the way Schlomo would gawk and drool at the very mention of her name like a sad little puppy dog getting its first meal in weeks, but Lambchops couldn’t help but feel the same. After all, Carmen was hot. Who was she to deny such a fact? It was just really funny to see Schlomo pining little a desperate little fool.
Lambchops sat in her stiff and rusted stool, hardly noticing the way she gently caressed her drumsticks as she stared of into space, thinking about that girl, when Goody marched up to her drum kit as if he was an army general.
“Why are you so nice to Carmen and not to me? What gives?” He sneered, glaring straight into Lambchops’ soul as he towered over her drums. Lambchops snorted.
“‘Cuz Carmen’s not a dick like a certain someone I have the displeasure of looking at right now,” she snorted, glaring back at Goody with her signature smug smirk that always makes his blood boil, “Besides, she’s hot.”
Goody stood there dumbfounded as if something snapped in his brain.
“She’s… what??” He sputtered, almost in disbelief.
“I said,” Lambchops purred, leaning dangerously close to Goody’s face, “she’s hot. What, are you deaf or something?”
Goody looked as if he had just been told he had a 50 question exam on all the music theory he never bothered to learn.
“Lamb, are you nuts? You’ve got to be kidding. You’re kidding, right?”
Lambchops just sat there, her eyes drifting elsewhere as she started counting the specs of dust on the walls. God, this was getting boring real fast. She decided to just redirect her attention back to Goody, her eyes locking with his as she simply shrugged, that smirk painting itself onto her face once more.
“Oh my God.”
Goody massaged his temples.
“Great, just great. First Schlomo and now you?? Seriously, what’s so special about this girl that makes even Miss Angry Lamb go gaga over her?”
Lambchops grunted in annoyance.
“Don’t call me that.” She growled with a threatening tone, raising one of her drumsticks like she was about to stab him with it - a warning. “But you’d never know what makes her so special since you clearly have never seen a hot girl in your life, let alone talked to one.”
Goody’s ears flared up into a bright pink as his face twisted into an embarrassed scowl.
“Oh yeah? Well at least I’m not drooling over every girl I see! Jesus, you might as well be Joe with how obsessed with her you are.” Goody snarled, trying his hardest to hit back at her with effect. Lambchops was starting to get pissed off.
“Every girl I see?? Christ, Goodman, it was one girl! And don’t compare me to that creep.” She lifted up another stick, grip even tighter than before - final warning.
“Awww, is Miss Gracey feeling a little lovesick? Is she getting a wittle shyyy??” Goody teased, clasping his hands together and making stupid kissy faces.
Lambchops had enough.
When Schlomo and Carmen entered the practice room (fifteen minutes late for “unimportant reasons”), they were met with Goody being pinned down to the ground with Lambchops holding him down with her body and clasping a drumstick up to his throat, sporting a black eye of her own in a pathetic attempt of a struggle.
“What the hell is going on here?” Schlomo yelled, desperately trying to make sure neither of his bandmates got killed before their assignment was due. Lambchops and Goody just stared at Schlomo and Carmen for a good five seconds before Goody whispered,
“There’s your girl.”
Lambchops had to be pulled off of Goody and physically restrained from chopping his head off as Goody pathetically dashed away as fast as he could, leaving Carmen standing there utterly confused.
After Lambchops had finally calmed down, Schlomo asked the question he feared would get him hospitalised.
“So, uh, what exactly got you guys so… worked up?” He winced as if expecting Lambchops to lunge at him. Instead, she stood up and walked over to her drum kit, picking up her sticks that had just been used to abuse the living hell out of Goody. She let that smirk creep across her face once more as she sat down and muttered,
“Tch. You would get it.”
And started playing without another word.
Schlomo just stared at her and sighed. Then almost jumped out of his skin when he remembered Carmen was still standing there in the doorway. As he frantically tried to salvage his and the band’s reputation to Carmen, Lambchops let out a small chuckle under her breath. She totally impressed Carmen with her sick fighting skills.