“We will, we will, Rock you!” As sung by the United Trebouchet Operators Choir. You figure out the circumstance. Have fun.
The trebuchets, massive siege weapons of wood and rope, fired silently. It was their payloads, landing against the stunt castle walls, that were part of the performance.
Two solid rocks, and a missile made of gravel and dried clay. They landed with a WHUMP-WHUMP, TSSSSHH. A relentless beat that required the scurrying co-ordination of hundreds.
“Buddy you’re a young man, hard man, shouting in the streets, gonna be a BIG MAN SOMEDAY. Got blood on your face, big disgrace, wavin’ your banner all over the place.”
Everyone manning the trebuchets sung in chorus, “WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!”
WHUMP-WHUMP, TSSSSHH. WHUMP-WHUMP, TSSSSHH.
“WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!”
The Ambassador for Shoggott, a class five deathworld, stared at the performance in shock and awe. She leaned over to the strategically-seated Ambassador Shayde. “Your people make music with weapons?”
“Oh aye. You should see the next act. It’s a Zeusophone.”
Nyansi looked at the demonically-shaped human. She seemed to be enjoying the show. “What is a Zeusophone?”
“They play music wi’ lightning. It’s a wee ripper.”
Nyansi was rather glad that they had sued for peace with these crazed, balding apes. They were beyond all realms of understanding.
Unseen, the frailer members of the Galactic Alliance exchanged touches of reassurance and congratulations. Their cunning plan had worked.
[Muse food remaining: 20. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]