He had been working feverishly on some sort of plan since ten minutes after coming back from dreamland. Nobody could make out what it was. Nobody could make out half of what he was saying, either. And when they could, it didn't make much sense. Like now. It was true that he was standing at the analog deck though, and the tape probably was running. The whole time he'd been doing this, Ralf and Florian had been debating on the why's and what's, and bit by bit after turning down each others' other theories, they were pretty sure he wanted to record a song. Maybe all three of them together, maybe Klaus'd stay at the deck. They weren't sure.
Now Ralf couldn't hold back his curiosity any more. "Is this... is, uh, song - izzissong called 'Tape's runnin,' or y'just we're - mean we're starting soon?"
As far as Florian could tell, Klaus' mumbled response was halfway between both expected answers, like "Truhhoon" or something. Flo was tired of waiting; he sighed and picked up an acoustic guitar that was lying around listlessly, as acoustic guitars in electronic musicians' secret hideaway studios tend to do. Flo was slightly less shitty at this instrument than the other two... in Flo's opinion. He underestimated himself, and his improv was fairly pretty. It seemed to be what Klaus wanted, too. Ralf started improvising a renaissancey melody in what seemed to be French. Flo wondered if it was good French or shitty, and if it *was* shitty, whether that was pretend shittiness like with Ralf's German (which was pretty good when he wasn't pretending to be crap at it). Klaus meanwhile seemed to be content to run the sound board. Or more like, obsessed with it. Maybe he thought it was a computer game.
Just then, the doorbell rang. "Who the hell?" Flo thought. Practically nobody knew about this place but them. All was explained when, without waiting for Flo to answer, the impatient Flo outside the door jangled the key from his pocket and rushed in. "We've got -"
"Tape's runnin'," noted Klaus, still wrassling the sound board unfazed.
"Is this... is, uh, song - izzissong called 'Tape's runnin,' or y'just we're - mean we're starting soon?" wondered Flo 2 aloud. Flo 1 went back to his guitar playing... he figured it'd be for the best. Ralf was too focused on his French Renaissance "scat" to have even noticed anything odd.
A Klaus 2 rushed in past Flo 2, mumbling "Tuhrroon" as he continued towards the sound board. Klaus 1 nodded approvingly and then, for as much as he showed any emotion at all, seemed to look relieved.
Ralf 2 arrived too of course, at a leisurely stroll. This Ralf wasn't singing; he had a battery-powered effects board and wasn't afraid to use it. His improv began immediately and tended towards the percussive.
Flo 2 carefully closed the door behind him, making sure there was no-one in the entry corridor, and then reached into his nose. For long, disgusting seconds he pulled out nothing but snot, but at the end of the string was a tiny Mama Brain. He dropped her at arm's length like a sponge in a really roomy shower when you're very, very high and dropping your sponge at arm's length with an air of importance seems like a momentous thing to do. She inflated to normal size gracefully, unfolding straight to the ground. She looked impatient. She looked impatiently at Klaus 2.
"Tape's runnin'," said Klaus 2 with a distant look as he distractedly reached into his nose with one hand as the other still slaved away at the deck, and then dropped a tiny Glenn Danzig gracelessly from a snotty umbilical cord at arm's length.
Stumbling a bit from his clumsy, slimy fall, Danzig looked up at Klaus 2, saying, "Is this... is, uh, song - izzissong called 'Tape's runnin,' or y'just we're - mean we're starting soon?"
"Tuhrroon," mumbled Ralf 2, laying off the effects board for a bit.
All seven of the other faces in the room turned to stare at him.