Post by CelticCailín on Dec 11, 2011 18:47:12 GMT -5
Daniel Furlong was sitting at the table on one of Celtic Thunder's tour buses. The touring was great, a dream come true! The schoolwork that went along with it, not so much! He was trying desperately to get a grips on one particularly tough Irish assignment. He sighed, throwing the pencil against the wall.
Damian McGinty was watching the boy, he felt for him. He knew exactly how the young boy was feeling, he'd been in Daniel's place for four years! Now he was just along to watch one show, then it was backtracking to LA for McGinty. He walked over to Daniel, and sat down beside the boy he was training to be a younger version of himself, well at least teaching him the wind ups and how to not get stuck in the crossfire when a wind up was on, like the little canoe episode Damian had endured three years before.
'Itjs liekek gemrma andjd fenwjdj mixjejs todheyjdksr!' exclaimed the boy, burying his face in his Maths book.
'What?!?'
'I said, Its like german and French mixed together!' explained the Wexford native.
'Hey Danny, I can help ya if you want.' offered the Derry teen.
'Thanks Damian. I need all the help I can get!'
Damian poured over the Irish book, giving the young teen some pointers. Eventually, even Damian got stuck. Twenty minutes later, both lads had their faces buried in textbooks, unintelligible complaints about how much Irish was too hard, how it was impossible.
Sitting farther down the bus was Ryan Kelly and George Donaldson. The Scot chuckled softly to himself over the two distressed teenage boys.
'Sure brings back memories, eh Ryan?'
'Aye, that it does! Maybe we should go lend a hand, with Damian helping Danny it will never get done, he's the king of 'I'll study soon, I'll do it later.'' said Ryan, slagging a little on the lad who he saw as a younger brother.
They two walked over to the disheartened duo.
'Okay, let me see this. Daniel, it's pronounced.. Errm... Uhmm.. Paul! Get over here!' shouted the Scotsman. Ryan rolled his eyes, Paul's Irish was worse than the Scot's!
Paul 'Swanky' Byrom waltzed over, humming a tune.
'George, you say it like this. It's EGG, George!!' explained the sarcastic Dub.
'Egg? You sure?'
George was thoroughly confused by this point! Seeing the mess it was turnin into, Damian snatched the book from Paul's hands, studying it intensely.
'No, no! It's 'ag' the Irish for 'but.' You say it Aaagguuhh, George.' said the teen as if he was the key to all knowledge of the Irish language.
'Aaag?'
'Aaagguuuuh, try that.' encouraged Damian.
George tried, but it was hard for him. Keith had been sitting in his bunk, watching the whole thing. He got up, grabbing Betsy. He stood behind Damian, cleared his throat and sang.
'Ag, ag, ag, ag ,ag, aggiie, aggiee, Agiee, aggidey, aggidey, ag ag!' sang Keith, a made up tune of one word, to the tune of 'Row, Row, Row, Your Boat.'
Seeing nothing to lose, they all began to sing the surfer's made up song. Hey, if it would help Daniel with his work, why not give it a try? They were all singing the song for the 45th time though, trying to get it to stick in Daniel's and their own minds. They were dancing and singing around in the bus when Sharon came in, and stopped short.
'What the?!?!?' she exclaimed.
'We were trying to help Danny with his Irish. How much did you hear?' asked Keith.
'I heard all of it.. From twenty blocks away.. You should use that projection of voice more often, Keith!'
Daniel was still quietly carrying on the song in the corner, while everyone else had stopped. Sharon just looked at him, and he kept on, oblivious to her Look. She looked around at the rest of the lads.
'Damian started it!' accused Paul.
'No I didn't! It was Keith!' he shouted back.
'I was just tryna help the laddie!' replied Keith.
Amid the shouting and Daniel singing the Ag Song, Sharon glanced around at the ruckus in front of her.
'Why couldn't he just have taken Spanish instead...' she muttered to herself, leaving the boy singing to himself, the men arguing who started it all. Emmet Cahill wandered in just as Sharon was leaving.
'What is going on?!?' asked the confused tenor.
Nobody answered him.
'The things I find out and happen after I sign contracts..' sighed the singer, walking away, following Sharon's lead.
&;&;&;&;&;!;!;!;!;!;!;&;&;&;&;&(&(&(£(£(!((!(((!
This took forever to write it kept getting deleted! This is the third one! So I hope you like it! Comments please!
Damian McGinty was watching the boy, he felt for him. He knew exactly how the young boy was feeling, he'd been in Daniel's place for four years! Now he was just along to watch one show, then it was backtracking to LA for McGinty. He walked over to Daniel, and sat down beside the boy he was training to be a younger version of himself, well at least teaching him the wind ups and how to not get stuck in the crossfire when a wind up was on, like the little canoe episode Damian had endured three years before.
'Itjs liekek gemrma andjd fenwjdj mixjejs todheyjdksr!' exclaimed the boy, burying his face in his Maths book.
'What?!?'
'I said, Its like german and French mixed together!' explained the Wexford native.
'Hey Danny, I can help ya if you want.' offered the Derry teen.
'Thanks Damian. I need all the help I can get!'
Damian poured over the Irish book, giving the young teen some pointers. Eventually, even Damian got stuck. Twenty minutes later, both lads had their faces buried in textbooks, unintelligible complaints about how much Irish was too hard, how it was impossible.
Sitting farther down the bus was Ryan Kelly and George Donaldson. The Scot chuckled softly to himself over the two distressed teenage boys.
'Sure brings back memories, eh Ryan?'
'Aye, that it does! Maybe we should go lend a hand, with Damian helping Danny it will never get done, he's the king of 'I'll study soon, I'll do it later.'' said Ryan, slagging a little on the lad who he saw as a younger brother.
They two walked over to the disheartened duo.
'Okay, let me see this. Daniel, it's pronounced.. Errm... Uhmm.. Paul! Get over here!' shouted the Scotsman. Ryan rolled his eyes, Paul's Irish was worse than the Scot's!
Paul 'Swanky' Byrom waltzed over, humming a tune.
'George, you say it like this. It's EGG, George!!' explained the sarcastic Dub.
'Egg? You sure?'
George was thoroughly confused by this point! Seeing the mess it was turnin into, Damian snatched the book from Paul's hands, studying it intensely.
'No, no! It's 'ag' the Irish for 'but.' You say it Aaagguuhh, George.' said the teen as if he was the key to all knowledge of the Irish language.
'Aaag?'
'Aaagguuuuh, try that.' encouraged Damian.
George tried, but it was hard for him. Keith had been sitting in his bunk, watching the whole thing. He got up, grabbing Betsy. He stood behind Damian, cleared his throat and sang.
'Ag, ag, ag, ag ,ag, aggiie, aggiee, Agiee, aggidey, aggidey, ag ag!' sang Keith, a made up tune of one word, to the tune of 'Row, Row, Row, Your Boat.'
Seeing nothing to lose, they all began to sing the surfer's made up song. Hey, if it would help Daniel with his work, why not give it a try? They were all singing the song for the 45th time though, trying to get it to stick in Daniel's and their own minds. They were dancing and singing around in the bus when Sharon came in, and stopped short.
'What the?!?!?' she exclaimed.
'We were trying to help Danny with his Irish. How much did you hear?' asked Keith.
'I heard all of it.. From twenty blocks away.. You should use that projection of voice more often, Keith!'
Daniel was still quietly carrying on the song in the corner, while everyone else had stopped. Sharon just looked at him, and he kept on, oblivious to her Look. She looked around at the rest of the lads.
'Damian started it!' accused Paul.
'No I didn't! It was Keith!' he shouted back.
'I was just tryna help the laddie!' replied Keith.
Amid the shouting and Daniel singing the Ag Song, Sharon glanced around at the ruckus in front of her.
'Why couldn't he just have taken Spanish instead...' she muttered to herself, leaving the boy singing to himself, the men arguing who started it all. Emmet Cahill wandered in just as Sharon was leaving.
'What is going on?!?' asked the confused tenor.
Nobody answered him.
'The things I find out and happen after I sign contracts..' sighed the singer, walking away, following Sharon's lead.
&;&;&;&;&;!;!;!;!;!;!;&;&;&;&;&(&(&(£(£(!((!(((!
This took forever to write it kept getting deleted! This is the third one! So I hope you like it! Comments please!