“The King’s Singers”

The King’s Singers (inspired by the a cappella band! they are amazing)

The king is unimpressed with his singers.

He is sitting there politely with a straight back on his straight-backed throne, holding back a yawn. He is about to resort to desperate measures if things don’t get interesting soon: picking his nails.

The singers are not bad singers. No, that would be quite interesting, on the contrary. They have very angelic voices, indeed. Each of their hairstyles is perfectly curled. All of their outfits match, the modest red scarves contrasting with their black choral dress.

The king appreciates music, he really does. He likes when he can hear the bass voices vibrating and rumbling and the high voices sparkling through the melody. He likes the clatter and pound of drums and the pluck and resonance of strings and pianos.

But these singers have none of those things. They do not have bass voices. They do not have high voices. They, of course, do not have strings and pianos.

They are all the same. They are harmonizing, but their voices all sound the same.

He squints, closely inspecting each man. Their eyes are closed in apparent focus, mouths wide breathing a hollow tune. He tries to spot the difference between one… two… three… four gelled heads. On the fifth head, he notices a tiny curled hair out of place, sticking out in the opposite direction as the others. The sixth, seventh, and eigth hairstyles are all perfect.

He returns to the fifth head and his eyes wander down to the face. Closed eyes in what seems to be deep focus, mouth like a long, miserable “O” breathing a hollow tune, one eye cracked open…

The king starts. The fifth singer has opened one eye to look at him. He quickly looks away, pretending he was not blatantly staring at the man, and tries to listen to the music.

The fifth singer has closed his eyes again, the king notices, but his mouth is quirked in a smile instead of a long “O.”

The king grins. Now this is a bit more interesting.

He watches as slowly, slowly the eye cracks open again, and this time the king meets it bravely.

He watches as quickly, the eye closes and quickly, a short blush spreads across the singer’s cheeks.

Oh! They are finishing up the song. The king gathers up his composure and claps politely along with the guards and advisors positioned around the room. The singers bow in perfect sync, except the fifth singer flourishes his hand a bit more. The king smiles.

The singer and the king catch eyes once more. The singer tucks his mischievous hair behind his ear, and walks away in line with the others with a small grin.

The king was impressed with his singers. He thinks he will have them come back next Christmas.