Displaced
"And one, one two three four!" Angelo tapped out the beat, and they swung into the song. It all seemed to be going fine, Sergei still not allowed to use a guitar until his stitches healed up, until Jonothon called a halt.
Right. We need to speed this up.
"Ja wohl!" Octavian said with a laugh. "Ok, guys, let's do as the Kommandant says."
"Heil!" Sergei snapped off a Nazi salute. "Heil Kommandant Jono!"
Ok, now hopefully you've got that out of your systems...
"Nein, Kommandant!" Angelo said cheerfully, then laughed as Jonothon turned a betrayed look on him.
Why me? Wot did h'I do to deserve this? Jonothon upturned his head dramtacilly, then swung evil eyes on his laughing band members. Right, no more World War Two movies for you three.
"But it's perfectly fine if you watch them?" Angelo said, grinning.
Well, they're my movies, aren't they?
"Oh, now that explains everything. As you say, Kommandant!" Octavian grinned. Sergei laughed.
"Ja, Kommandant."
Oh you're all a bunch of right wankers...