Chapter 40: Jailhouse Rock

Maybe seven wasn’t my lucky number after all.

As far as I could tell, Gamblecraft had done nothing to change the recipe of the Construction, except for changing the aesthetic appearance. Which was a damn shame. I hadn’t dared risk using my Gamblecraft Skill alongside Gardencraft in my new bedroom–since I didn’t want to risk the stability of the cottage–but I was hoping this free Skill would do at least something more than add a terrible paint job.

Can’t win ‘em all, I guess. Did I need to roll a higher number?

“What do you call it?” Spinemess asked.

“More importantly, what’s it do?” Jimbo-no asked. “Ya know, besides play music?”

Jimbo-no had been pretending to decorate his room with ramshackle bits of wood and furniture he had clobbered together, while vainly trying to eavesdrop on my discussion with Spinemess. After the new device spun into existence and played its siren call, he abandoned both efforts to check it out.

I was already thankful for the future auditory privacy I could gain from this Power.

“It’s a graphophone. Or phonograph, technically speaking. This one is called the 'Bone Spur Gramophone.’”

Ah, the confusing world of trademark branding and all that jazz. I personally wasn’t fond of the generic British terminology that the System had opted to use in this instance. ‘Gramophone’ worked well enough to convey the idea of what it was, but it would be like unlocking a Power related to plastic containers, then calling it something related to ‘Tupperware.’ Unless Mister Tupper also existed in this world somewhere, it wouldn’t make any sense to use the company branded name. Once again, this was another sign of how the System was trying to provide a sense of convenience for me, yet failing to hit the mark.

Jimbo-no's bones seemed to somehow pale in the dim light. A leaf wilted and fell off Spinemess. The two Minions weren’t fond of the name, either. Clearly for different reasons.

I continued. “And yes, it plays music. Among other things.”

The design was classic. A disc on a turntable attached to a wooden box. A stylus jetted back and forth across the grooves in the disc. During this process, some sort of acoustic black magic I didn’t quite understand happened within the box. Which somehow resulted in music emanating from a flared horn. In theory, I knew how it worked. But in reality I was a child when this technology was popular in households.

All fairly standard. It looked like a Gramophone.

Except the record player was partially made of bones. The turntable was bone white instead of the typical black color. And all the other exterior technical components were bone white too. The tonearm was shaped like an ulna and radius, attached to a literal skeletal hand. The stylus was a skeletal index finger, sliding along the grooves of the record. And the record currently being played had the distinctly recognizable depiction of an x-ray upon it. An x-ray of a human foot with a calcaneal tuberosity.

Otherwise known as a heel bone spur.

It looked like it came out of the home decor section of a Hobby Lobby or Michaels store during Halloween season. I had a feeling that Gamblecraft was the reason for this spooky aesthetic.

What’s worse was that it reminded me of nursing school. I wasn’t a fan of that either.

I wanted a reroll. Why did the System insist on trying to turn me into an undead themed Dungeon? Couldn’t I have a flower themed Gramophone instead? Or one with cute cats drawn all over the box?

“Sounds creepy. Looks even creepier,” Jimbo-no said. “Did an Evergreen salesman come knockin' and sell it to ya? If ya hurry, it might not be too late for a refund.”

“Like any good housekeeper, I enjoy chasing off solicitors. I’ll have you know I chose this Power, under careful advisement from Miss Kettleflar.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“So what your sayin' is that it won’t blow up on us?” He asked.

“No. It won’t,” I replied firmly.

“Well, that’s a damned shame. If it doesn’t blow up like everything else ya do, what’s the point? Turn it off. It’s loud.”

“No, don’t,” Spinemess said. “I want to listen to it for a moment.”

“I can’t turn it off,” I replied.

Which was true. I tried. It didn’t respond to my Soul Stroll physically trying to lift up the stylus. And I didn’t see any toggles to directly turn it off when looking through my menus. I reckoned the only way I personally could force it to stop would be by Mana Sweeping the whole thing away. Otherwise I could wait out the time it took to play the whole record, however long that lasted.

The whole device had a bulky shape, but appeared light enough that it could be picked up and moved to another location by somebody besides me. This was yet another Power that would require the help of Minions to make the best use of it.

I did, however, have the option to toggle what it did. The description on the Power was clear that I would be able to choose between Work, Study, and Play. It was set to ‘Play’ currently.

Jimbo-no threw his hands into the air and rattled with laughter. “Ya can’t even turn it off? Do we need to take your purse from ya, Granny? I know them door-to-door salesmen can look cute, but believe me, they are experts at rippin' off old ladies.”

“Oh hush. It was this or some sort of fire-tail dragon chicken Minion. You two can turn it off whenever you so want. Just lift up the arm and it’ll stop spinning. But don’t. Not quite yet. I think you’ll find that you’ll work better when you get in the groove.”

“Psh, like we need that. Jellybee’s got that covered. Speaking of which, where has that poor sap gone off too?”

I was quite aware of the answer, but I ignored him. Instead, I toggled on the ‘Work’ setting. In response, the forearm tonearm automatically lifted up from the turntable and the music stopped for a moment. Then the skeletal hand picked up the record and flipped it to the other side. It placed itself back into position, a needle point index finger in the grooves. Then the disc span. A classic rock and roll style tune began.

“Well, slap me silly, I take it back! That ain’t half bad, Granny,” Jimbo-no acknowledged with a swagger. "Maybe ya do have good tastes."

It was reminiscent of an upbeat Elvis song. Extremely familiar, but not any particular song. Like the System was trying to mishmash songs together from my memories, then cover them by somebody doing karaoke badly. The lyrics were borderline nonsensical. And it wasn’t nearly as good. But it worked well enough to get Jimbo-no’s foot tapping.

Ah, what a man! The King of Rock! I wasn’t supposed to watch any flicks with Elvis in them as a youngin’. Pappy told me those thrusting hips were too salacious for innocent, virgin eyes.

That didn’t stop me, of course. It wasn't hard to sneak into drive-in theaters back then.

It was probably for the best that this Power didn’t let me imitate celebrities from back on Earth. I didn’t want to accidentally become the first rock-star Dungeon Core.

A jailhouse rock, one could say.

Ha!

Bonny would have a conniption. She was hardly prepared enough to be a homeowner, yet alone a stage production manager.

“I'm glad you think so, Jimbo-no. Now then, it's time to mine. Grab your tools,” I ordered. “At the end of the hall we’re going to dig out a staircase going down another floor. That should give me enough Mana to work with to complete this level."

Jimbo-no grumbled something about Jellybee.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Ya heard me, batty ears. Where’s that teacher’s pet gone off too? He should be working too.”

“Everyone works. Even little Tiptap. Jellybee will be joining us shortly.”

Spinemess hadn’t moved. The bone mage appeared to still be listening to the music intently.

“You too, Spinemess," I said. "While you’re here, you gotta earn your keep. Nobody gets a free meal.”

“This voice… Hey, Jimbo-no?” Spinemess asked. “Doesn’t this voice sound familiar?”

“It’s your old voice, bark for brains. Before ya went,” he motioned a hand up and down their body, “ya know, all natural.”

Spinemess took a step backwards and shook their head. “Is that… Is that really what I sounded like?”

Jimbo-no started to reply, but was interrupted. Maniacal laughter rang out from upstairs, followed by the thumping of footfalls down the steps.

“See, Jimbo-no? I told you," I said. "Right on time."

Jellybee tumbled down the stairs. A spindly collection of bone and fungus that vibrated with sheer excitement.

Upon seeing him, Spinemess jumped back into a defensive posture and Jimbo-no tripped over his peg leg. “WHAT THE FUCK?” He screeched.

Of course the other two Minions didn’t recognize him.

After all, Jellybee was covered head to toe with bees.

Living, buzzing bees.

An entire hive of them, crawling all over his body.

“THEY’RE SWARMING,” Jellybee cackled. “THEY’RE SWARMING!”