Only the best by Allen Kitchen, all rights reserved. Sept 24, 1997 *************** "There is no justice." -Ruth Ginsberg Charlie sat at his workbench in the back of the music shop, and listened intently to the sound of the guitar he was working on. Ignoring the 10 other technicians in the cluttered room, he plucked a string with a pick, and studied the resulting tone. Hmm. Just a bit too dull, he decided. The guitar strings needed replacing. Preferably with a set containing a bit more copper in the alloy. That should give the guitar a bit more of a biting sound. After all, headbanger Skunk Rock needed to be piercing. It was the sound all the kids wanted, and the sound they spent money to hear. So that was the sound musicians like Striper gave them. Her music and her stage antics almost made her synonymous with Skunk Rock. And her gorgeously feminine black and white body had a habit of turning even old men into drooling fanboys. Charlie sighed longingly as he carefully loosened the offending strings. Yes, he was one of those babbling fanboys himself. He had every one of her albums, and quite a few of her posters as well. He adored Striper, from the tip of her fuzzy head all the way down to the end of her doubly-striped tail. Oh, how he wished he could hold her in his arms and feel her skunk fur mingle with his fox fur. How sweet it would be to be able to touch her, and feel that luxurious pelt in his vulpine hands. Many a night he had laid in bed and dreamed about her. A soft creak from the instrument's bridge made Charlie wince and concentrate again on what he was doing. He admired Striper a lot, and he was thrilled that everyone in the shop was working on her instruments while she was in town. But he certainly didn't want to make her angry by ruining her guitar. He pushed the dream into the back of his mind and focused on making her guitar sound better than she would ever dream possible. He and the other instrument testers and tuners were very busy. Striper and her band had arrived only hours ago for a show downtown. But on the road coming from their last gig, the truck carrying the instruments was hit by another vehicle. Nobody was hurt, thank goodness. But Striper said she wouldn't play unless her instruments were thoroughly tested and tuned first. Thus, Charlie now held the axe of his heart's passion in his hands. Charlie lifted the toneless metal strands away with his claws, and dropped them to the floor. Turning his stool to face his partsbench, he wondered which string set to install. It had to have a hard, biting tone. Something crisp. Metallic. Something that nobody had ever heard before. Charlie stroked his chin a moment, and wondered what he could use to make her guitar sound unlike any other. It was his gift to her, and likely to be the only one he would ever give. It had to be perfect. With that, he chose a special set of strings he kept in the back of his toolbox. It was a set he wound himself over a year ago. He had set them aside because their tone was far too bright for the classical musicians who made up the bulk of his day to day business. But this was a day unlike any other. So he was going to give her a sound unlike any other. Holding her instrument as if he was touching her own body, he carefully laid each wire into it's groove and fed them into the holes in the tuning wheels. With loving care, he tightened each one by hand and listened to the tone as they slowly came into tune. Repeatedly he tapped a tuning fork against the bridge and patiently adjusted the tuning for each string, making the guitar a very model of perfection. Charlie smiled as he finished, and set the fork down on his bench again. Glowing with pride, he hefted the guitar's weight to his body, as if to play it. He thought again about the artist, and how much of her fur the instrument had touched over the years. Lucky guitar, he sighed to himself. "Hey Charlie. You finished with that thing yet?" Joseph was coming around Charlie's bench. "You've been working on her guitar for over an hour." Charlie proudly held the guitar to the otter. "Yeah, I'm done. And nobody is going to believe their ears tonight when Striper plays this." Joseph reached out, and took the guitar into his hands. "Hey, what kind of strings are these? Never seen anything like them before." "That's because they are my own formula Joseph. One of a kind." Joseph looked up at the fox, a shocked look on his face. "You mean to tell me you put untested and unproven strings into Striper's guitar? Oh, the boss is going to kill you! That is, if Striper doesn't kill you herself." Charlie crossed his arms and stood there, looking smug. "They aren't untested. I made them a year ago, and I worked with them quite a bit before I shelved them. They will give her a sound unlike anything anyone has ever heard, I promise you." Joseph took the leather strap of the black and white striped guitar, and put it around his neck. "Oh really? That good huh?" "That good." The otter grinned, then walked over to an amp that was on his bench. Picking up a cable and plugging it into Striper's guitar, he said "Okay Charlie. The proof is in how it sounds. Let's put your new strings to the test and see how they do." Charlie nodded to Joseph, and leaned casually against his bench as the otter turned on his amp. Joseph strummed a simple chord. The piercing sound filled the room, making everyone jump at the unexpected sound. "Hmmm." Joseph rumbled. "Interesting timbre. You may be onto something Charlie. But it needs just a bit more bite, and it isn't tuned right." Charlie snorted. "If those strings had any more bite, they'd have to be in a cage. And it's tuned to absolute perfection as well." Joseph shook his head, and reached across his bench. "That's my point Charlie. Tuning a guitar isn't an exact science, it's an art. You have to listen for the whole sound, not just the note." The otter then pulled a small strip of foil off a dispenser. Charlie was aghast. "What do you think you are doing?" he cried. "Just making a small adjustment." the otter replied, weaving the foil between the strings. "Just bear with me a moment. It's easy enough to remove." He then adjusted one of the strings just a little bit, making it go sharp. Charlie watched in dismay as the otter ruined his perfect tuning job. Joseph then strummed the same chord as before on Striper's guitar. Its sound was now beyond biting, going well into gnashing territory. The foil and tuning change made the sound almost scream with intensity. The otter beamed in pleasure, and began to play one of Striper's latest hits, "RoadKill". He stood in place, and tore into the song as if he'd played it a thousand times. Which he just may have. Joseph was a big fan of Striper also. Charlie stood behind his bench and watched the silly otter play. The heavy metal sound sang out, and the music was contagious. Pretty soon, all the other testers and tuners in the room were keeping time with the song. They beat on the benches with tools, drumsticks, cans of sodaŠ Whatever was handy. The hard- driving music pulsed throughout the building as Joseph played, the guitar crying out in his hands. The door behind Charlie suddenly flew open with a bang, and everyone stopped playing. Everyone but Joseph, that is. He just stood in place and let the final note ring and fade out as Striper herself stood in the doorway, scowling! She was wearing her trademark yellow tubetop, and a pair of ragged cutoff shorts cut so high the pockets showed. Charlie watched the femme skunk stomp past him towards Joseph. The otter looked nervous, and undid her guitar from around his neck. She stared hard at him while she pointed to the black and white axe. "Is that my guitar?" She asked. Her voice held an edge so sharp you could probably shave with it. "Yes! Yes, it is!" he stammered while he unplugged it from the amp and nervously held it out for her. She snatched the guitar from him, and held it by the neck. "And did you make it sound like that?" she growled. The otter was visibly sweating, but he nodded to her. Then something happened that nobody expected at all. Striper set her guitar down on Joseph's bench, grabbed both sides of the otter's head, and kissed him! Long and hard! Charlie just stood there gaping while his best friend locked lips with one of the most desirable women on the planet. You could have heard a pin drop as they wrapped their arms around each other. Striper's eyes were closed, and she looked quite pleased. For his part, Joseph looked like he was about to die from the shock. Finally, the skunk pulled away and smiled. Picking up her guitar again, she said "I have been looking for a sharper sound to use in my music. I think you just showed me what I was looking for. Thank you. You are the greatest instrument tester and tuner in the business, whoever you are. And I want you to come backstage after the concert tonight." The otter was still gasping from her previous attentions. "You want me to retune your guitar after the show?" he panted. She turned and walked toward the door again, her thick bushy black tail swaying behind her. "No, silly. I want you to kiss me some more." she said silkily. After she left the room, there was a loud thud. But whether the sound came from the door closing behind her or from somebody's passing out onto the floor wasn't clear. Charlie stared at Joseph. The otter simply sat on his stool, dazed. "Hey, I think she likes me." he bubbled, whiskers quivering. "She likes the sound of her guitar!" Charlie angrily snarled, leaning over his workbench. "She likes the sound that I gave her! You rat, I made those strings. All you did was throw it off tune and ruin the tone!" Joseph didn't seem to notice Charlie at all. "Striper said I was the greatest testing-tuner..." he said, clearly starstruck. "You thief! That should have been me she was kissing!" Joseph shook his head. "Sorry Charlie. Only the best testing-tuner gets to be star-kissed."