Subj: DS: The Next Generation 9
Date: 6/20/02 11:17:07 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Aesgaard

There was a rumor in Collinsport that the reason the teenagers at Collinwood were given access to musical instruments was to keep them distracted from a life of juvenile delinquency. Indeed, early police reports from the late Seventies to early Eighties were sprinkled with tales of false reports of the walking dead and even the random cemetery vandalism. In those sojourn days, the vampire tales from the Eighteenth and Nineteenth centuries were updated to the more modern reports of the terror of the Collins kids. Homes bordering the Collins estate no longer had to listen to wailing widows or the calling of dogs. Those noises had been replaced by the tumultuous noise of other annoying repercussions.

"Just take those old records off the shelf !!!!!" William screamed with a guitar as J.R. pounded on the drums and Jamison accompanied him on bass as the electricity poured into their five foot tall amplifiers. "Give me some of that old time rock and roll !!!!!!!"

It suddenly dawned on Maggie why no one the estate had seen any of the celebrated ghosts or apparitions of Collinwood since the kids all became teenagers. She felt the floor vibrating from the music pumped up and saw portraits of family from recent and long ago dancing on their nails. The portrait of her father and mother crashed to the floor as their grandson tried to become the next Elvis Presley.

For a second, it became quiet.

"I still don't think we're loud enough." Jamison's voice sounded from the stairs to the basement.

"No !!!!" Quentin came charging down the steps as he glanced over the faces of his son and the next generation of the estate. A bit alarmed, he shuddered to think they would be around to take care of him when he really grew old. "Boys, a hundred white flags just went up for each tombstone in Eagle Hill begging for you to stop." He pulled out his wallet. "Take a hundred, go to the diner and pick up girls. Please, while the ringing in my ears subsides."

"Sure, Uncle Quentin," William chuckled as he unstrapped his guitar. The undeclared leader of the group, he realized they had no where else to practice after being chased out of the last of the basements on the property with electricity. Quentin pounded his left ear trying to lose the ringing still plaguing him.

"Well," Jamison put his guitar in its case. "That was fun while it lasted. Let's see if the cheerleaders are practicing."

"I don't wanna." J.R. was still lightly drumming a beat. "Coleman's sister said she'd beat the crap out of me for putting itching powder in her gym shorts."

"Speaking of flakey females," Jamison turned to William. "Did you hear that Amanda has a thing for you ?"

"I heard," William didn't know what to do with the unwanted attention while he was already pursuing two other girls. "Aunt Maggie's blaming you for driving her crazy."

"She blames me for everything !" Jamison lead the way back upstairs to the kitchen as they attacked the refrigerator and began emptying it. From their vantage point in the main hall way, Quentin and Maggie were analyzing the damage to the Evans family picture as they watched the still-growing boys making sandwiches, drinking sodas and opening bags of crackers and chips.

"I thought I sent you boys to the diner." Quentin wondered out loud.

"But we need a snack for along the way." Jamison admitted.

Dark Shadows is a Dan Curtis Production.