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Sam kept singing and playing, even though no one was paying attention as he stood on the small stage at the back of the bar. He was surprised there was anyone who showed up here after what happened the previous night. Sam had been promised a hundred bucks to play for three days but the large group of rowdy half drunk canines that came in Friday night had ruined everything.

The skunk had stopped playing and stepped back when the first few glasses has smashed to the floor. With over a dozen men jostling and shoving it was quickly heading to an all out brawl, when the owner lept onto the stage and ordered Sam to turn around quick. He had thought of nothing but obeying his current employer until his tail was yanked high, "Everyone stop now or I'll hose you with the Skunk!!"

Samuel Terbitt had never been more horrified in his life as his rear was aimed off stage and tail high. Never mind that he was still wearing pants, several patrons screamed and dozens scattered for the two exits or hid themselves beneath booths and tables.

"I've taken enough of your crap Trake, take your friends and get out!" The owner commanded while Sam stared at the wall shaking in embarrassment while he waited for the instructions to end and his tail released. Locked in a filthy stall he had cried in frustration and anger. People were so stupid, every day he heard some scent comment or joke but to think he would actually spray someone, never!

Sam gazed out at the few groups and half dozen loners scattered through the bar consuming their alcohol. None were paying him any attention and just to prove it to himself he altered the words, "...and all we wanna do is... just be free."

He stopped playing and set his guitar on the stand. He did get a slight head shake of a response from the bar tender, who was probably the only one who noticed the wrong words, as he stepped down for a break.

Life sucked. Sam had been trying for nearly three years for his chance to get a real break. He spent all he made on audition tapes and travels to record companies for meetings. Every single one of them had ended the same. "You're not quite what were looking for." Compliments vanished and promises flew out he window once he actually got a face to face meeting.

In truth they only half cared about the music and his abilities. The other half 'The Image' he lacked; Rocking Hounds, Tall Equines, Seductive Felines, Dominate Wolves, or even the weird painted faces of a bat group with long tongues. It was about the image - as much as the music - that dominated the industry.

He was more than a little surprised when he got back to the small stage to see a slightly pudgy Chinchilla inspecting his guitar. Seeing himself caught the rodent asked, "You got a better axe?" He stated waving his Yamaha.

"Not that I'd bring to a dive like this." Sam answered.

"Good you're gonna need a real axe if you're gonna rock. Name's Tony and if you got two hundred I can get you a real chance." The chin offered.

Sam snorted grabbing his guitar back, he had spent far to much money on supposed agents and sleaze buckets with promises.

"Hey!!" He shouted as Tony caught the cord and yanked hard enough to pull the plug.

"Stop and Listen Samuel; or are you going to keep ruining good music for fun? Yes I've heard you play, a few times in fact. It's simple: I want to be an agent but no one wants me. I won't take any of your money until after you get you're first record understand?"

"Then what's the two hundred for?" Sam countered.

"Simple, there is an open rock concert. There calling it a battle of the bands, but that's a laugh. Really, they're all about money. Five hundred for each of the twenty spots, you get six minutes to do whatever you want and the crowd decides the winners. I got two open spots, third then fifteenth. My group had some 'creative differences'." The chinchilla growled. "And my second act is no good without some serious help. I'm offering you both spots, the money is only to change the names. I've already paid them all the fees, but they want more to switch people, one hundred a spot."

Sam considered carefully, a chance on stage might really be what he needed, and in six minutes he might be able to do two of his songs. "What if I only want one spot?"

"Not gonna happen. We need to set you up if we're really going to make this work. Or did you forget last night?" Sam shuddered. "Trust me, I have a plan but we kinda have to leave tonight. I'll drive. We're headed to Oakland." Sam gave a little bark of laughter at the thought, he was so ready to ditch this town and not just because of last night.

The skunk had already tramped his way through New York and half a dozen other cities including Nashville. Maybe the west coast was a better option now.

"Fine." He spoke, taking the cord from Tony and staring to pack up his equipment.

In just over an hour he had his suitcase and equipment packed in the back of Tony's Cadillac. He took one last look at the hotel he had spent the last two weeks in and mentally said goodbye to the entire town. Two hundred was going to be a serious chunk of what he had left, even if he included the sixty he had gotten out of the bar, but if he had to he would just chalk this up to a very expensive ride to Oakland.

Ten days later Sam was staring at his image in the mirror. Tony's plan was near insane, but it would give him a real shot when he was up on stage the second time. He gave a few poses, twitching his tail. The entire thing had been wrapped up then stuffed into a long sock of red, purple, and light green. If those colors weren't bad enough, his white stripe had been charcoaled, and his belly was now a combination of pink, gold, and blue. It came close to making his eyes hurt, if it weren't for the majority of his body being black. One thing was for sure though: no one would take him seriously, and all the extra stares told him it was working well. It was almost too bad all this work was nothing but a set up, a huge intro for his top song that he would play the second time he went out.

He got an entire band to stop and stare as he struck a few more poses before they shook their heads and left. A fool's appearance for a fool's show. The only thing that made him unhappy was Tony had insisted he played one of his own songs, 'Little Boy'. It was probably his most versatile. The song was meant to be a slower song but he could speed it up, add a few extra rifts, and then slow it down near the end. Two hundred dollars was what he was paying to walk out on stage, as a skunk, and try to knock them flat. That was close to what he had paid for his first recording of the same song years ago.

"Flip, you're next!" Someone called out.

It was a light poke to his back that got his attention, "Hey that's you." Tracy spoke. She was another skunk, and Sam had no clue what she meant to Tony, but she was always ready to help out. She was more than a little standoffish, and near rude at times, but Sam had earned a good deal of respect from her when she heard him play.

"I would say don't screw it up, but you're bound to do that." She told him with a grin, walking away.

"Hey, just be here when I get back!" He called after her. He had just over an hour-and-a-half before he was supposed to be back on stage, and he was going to need her help to get his tail fixed and his fur cleaned and dried before his second appearance.

"And now, for your third performer: FlllliiiPPPP!" Sam skipped out as the name was called, feeling more than foolish and glad no one could see him blush as he plugged his cheaper Yamaha in. Several of the bands had planned introductions, but he just picked out a few cords before twanging the strings and clearing his throat.

"Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be equines." He crooned out. "They're always alone and... What?" Sam shouted at the guy toward the front who had jumped up shouting something at him.

"What?" He asked again standing up and flicking his tail wildly as he walked towards the side of the stage nodding like he was getting directions. "Sorry Folks." He still spoke with a hard country accent. "They tell me y'all wanna ROCK!!" He said, leaning in and screaming into the microphone.

He dropped his tail down low, swinging slowly back and forth as he shifted his hips, "Well it's one for the money." *Strum Strum* "Two for the show." *Strum Strum* "Three to get readyyy...WHAT!!" He yelled at the audience, who was now muttering, and some openly jeered at him. Again he leaned in close to the mic, but this time spoke quietly.

"I guess you really want to rock." He grabbed everyone's attention as he kneed his guitar air-ward, grabbing the neck, and giving it several careful spins. He lifted his leg as he brought the guitar back down, balancing it on his knee while standing on one leg. He twisted his tail around the head of the guitar and looked at the audience. Sam played the frets like it was a keyboard, dancing up the scales with his fingers leaving most of the listeners staring. Still balancing on one foot, he started the opening cords to the hit song 'Bad to the Bone'.

Putting his foot back down, he shifted his guitar back to his chest during the third pause. "You all came to rock." *Stomp Stomp* "So I'll show you rock." *Stomp Stomp* He took a deep breath and spoke slowly like an announcer, "For your listening pleasure, my song called 'Little Boy'."

It was dirty as he burned through the start of the song at twice the speed it was meant to be played. Glancing at the timer aimed at the stage he read 3:22 just enough time. "Oh Little Boy standing by the water. Staring at the ripples coming in..." Sam sang until the last verse suddenly slowing down and dropping his voice making it deeper. "Oh, oh, young man still standing by the water wondering if life still lies within. Oh young man searching through the water. Live was never in the reflection, but withinnnn."

Just a few scattered applause were given as Sam spun once, making his tail do its own little dance and getting it caught on the guitar's cord before he pulled it away. 0:41. Still enough time, and the whole reason he was up here.

"It's the Ram not the rain that will drive you insane. And Ewe better watch it if he's sniffing near your pocket. ~ Because its me and you, and me and you, and all we wanna do is Screw, Screw, Screw!!"

Sam knew he had a stunned the entire audience. Not just with the sudden loud voice and music, but the lyrics as well had grabbed their attention. The silence held for several second before he took the microphone stand in hand, leaning it forward and speaking softly. "Well times up. Maybe next time." With a yank and a crackle in feedback he pulled the plug out, and tossed the cord across the stage walking off in the other direction, leaving the entire place scratching their heads.

The skunk couldn't help but shiver as he walked out onto the stage; this time with his prized Gibson strapped over his shoulder, dressed in jeans and a black leather vest, with a guitar pick he held in one hand. "Here is your number fifteen spot: Sammy Wonder!"

He kept his feet moving, wondering who had though up the name, as he looked over the stage. Obviously, they were preparing the next act, since there was already a set of drums and stands for keyboards, along with the stool and mic he had asked for.

Just as he got close, he 'accidentally' dropped the pick, giving a embarrassed little grin as he bent over aiming his rear to the audience and lifting his tail high. As expected there were multiple gasp and a few shrieks of worry as he picked up the small piece of plastic and turned around.

"You people are sick!" He shouted out to the audience, and with a flick sent the pick spinning out into the air. Grabbing the microphone, he spoke out, "You all came here to listen to Rock and Roll by up-and-coming musicians. If you're all too stupid to see past the person, you'll never hear the music... OH, and you should all know something: YOU can never rock unless you're ready to ROCK!!... I hope your ready." He put out a few rifts after plugging in his guitar, still proud of how it looked and sounded each time he used it, watching as it gleamed in the stage lights.

He started the intro, and the opening lyrics that were simple, just made to pull people in before he started out with a bit of a shock, "... and it's not a Boar when he's gonna leave you sore. ~ Because it's me and you, and me and you, and all we wanna do is Screw, Screw, Screw!!"

There was total silence for several seconds, with more than a few mouths left open staring at the stage. "Yeah, that's right, me again. I dropped the clown act to show you that a skunk could rock. From the TOP!" Sam shouted pointing one finger in the air.

This time, on the third cord, there was a bang from behind him, followed by a thump that drew his attention to the drum set behind him. A quick glance back showed him little of the shadowed figure behind him that was playing. He just hoped the guy could keep up with his song.

By the time he came back around to the chorus, he had no problems with the drummer, who was now emphasizing the beat of the last three words. He watched the audience getting into the song as he stamped his foot a few times. "Whether a Stallion or a Mare, you really shouldn't care but if you're doing the banging, than you better be hanging."

He couldn't keep the silly little smile off his muzzle from the giddy feeling inside as he brought out the next verse of innuendos, bringing things back again to the chorus. Since it was the second to last, he grabbed the microphone stand aiming the whole thing at the audience and pointed, listening to dozens of people shout back 'Screw, Screw, Screw!'.

Sam had never felt so high before rocking out his last verse, all in anticipation of the end.

"But you'd better remember when you're using my member that it's ME.." He yanked the mic from the stand and pointed at the audience -YOU- "And ME.." -AND YOU- "And when we get together we just.." -SCREW, SCREW, SCREW!!-

He ended up repeating the chorus again with the audiences full participation drawing back at the end, "Oh Yeeaaaah!"

The skunk took several panting breaths, trying to calm down enough to talk, "Now that's ROCK!" He shouted jamming the mic back into the stand, listening as the crowd cheered while he carefully pulled the cord from his guitar and once again tossed it across the stage.

Sam turned to leave and stopped, completely floored as Tracy walked forward from the drums. She wore the barest tight half-shirt and even smaller skirta as she grabbed his elbow, turning them to bow again at the audience amidst screams and shouts. Several of the cries were suddenly silenced as she gave him a wicked grin and turned around lifting her tail high.

Unable to help his own naughty thought, Sam gave a small swat to the barely covered rear, watching as she spun away, looking upset for several seconds before putting up another big grin and crooking a finger as she strutted off stage with extra rear wiggle. There were roars, whistles, and cat calls as he gave a thumbs up and followed. As he floated off stage he knew one thing sure, whether he won or not, they weren't going to be able to forget Sammy Wonder.