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Lola’s hair blazed, an angry inferno upon her head. How could she have tossed out the Fig and the Cig Figs contract? Sure, Fig was slow on delivering her sophomore album, but what an album it was! The bass riffs, the harmonies, the inspired lyrics! It made My Clerical Gnomance’s latest stuff look like dog shit in comparison. She had to get Fig back. Dawn of Justice was too great of an album and she looked like a fool for missing out.
She picked up her crystal and pulled up Fig’s number, and with only a slight pause to compose herself, pressed the dial button.
“Fig, darling! How are you?? Congratulations on your album! I just wanted to call and-”
The line went dead as Fig hung up on her.
Rats.
That was ok. This was ok; she'd dealt with difficult clients before. She pulled out an old rider contract from her old Cig Figs file and perused it, searching for clues on how to win back her client.
The next day Fig was awoken by the slamming of keys on her piano (much more effective than trying to knock on it).
“Fig! Delivery for you!” shouted her mom.
“Alright, coming!” She threw on her slippers and activated the switch for the piano, staggering out of her bedroom while yawning. Still half-asleep, she trudged up to the front door and opened it to see Lola carrying a towering tray of chocolate-and fruity-marshmallow crispy treats.
“I remembered these were your favorite and thought I'd-”
The door was slammed in her face.
Back to the drawing board.
“Gorgug! Sweetheart! How are you?? Listen, I've been trying to ahold of Figueroth but I just can't seem to get through to her and I was hoping-”
The call ended abruptly.
Drat, so Fig got to Gorgug before she could. Lola was going to have to get creative.
Fig was enjoying the warm summer day with her friends, hanging out at Goodberry Park, cracking jokes and roughhousing. But then, one by one, everyone else got quiet, though Fig was too rambunctious to notice at first.
“Uh, Fig…” said Fabian, tugging at her sleeve.
“What is it, big brother?” she teased.
“The sky…” murmured Kristen, her neck craned upward. Finally picking up on her friends’ cues, she looked upwards as well. There, white clouds formed FIGUEROTH COME BACK TO ME against the bold blue backdrop of the clear sky. Fig’s face flushed, burning with embarrassment and fury.
Lola's crystal rang.
“Figueroth, baby, so good to hear from you! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You know damn well why I'm calling!” snarled Fig. “What's the big idea calling me out like that in front of the whole town?!”
“Did you like it? I paid this goblin kid to do the skywriting! I thought he did a very good job!”
“Don’t dodge the question! Just take the hint and leave me alone!”
“Figueroth, honey, Fig and the Cig Figs were the best damn band I’ve ever managed and I was wrong to abandon you just because you needed more time to work on your album! I realize that I screwed up and I want you back! Please! Remember the tour bus, the venues, the bright lights, the people clamoring for your autograph! You had it all with me! Without me, who's going to do that for you, hmm?”
Fig bristled, uncomfortable and upset to hear Lola beg like that. “If you weren’t aware, I’m an Archdevil of Hell now and I’ve got alllll the lackeys I need to get that done for me, Lola,” she bragged. “So back off and farewell!”
“Fig! Fig! No, please, don’t hang up! What can I do to win you back? I’ll do anything, I swear!”
There was silence on the line, but the call didn’t end. Lola held her breath, her hair dampening down to her namesake, glowing softly as she waited for an answer.
When Fig finally spoke up, her voice was quiet, like a grave. “You want me back?” she asked. “You really want Fig and the Cig Figs back?”
“...More than anything, honey,” whispered Lola.
“I want dancing rats.”
“...I… I don’t understand, Figueroth. …Rats?”
“Yes. Dancing rats. Real ones, not prestidigitated ones. At every show. With choreographed moves that match the songs. If you can’t deliver that, then I’m not in.”
“And if I deliver these dancing rats, you’ll come back?”
“Yeah.”
Lola’s hair bloomed, the flames dancing like never before. “Fig, you’ve got a deal! I’ll get you the best dancing rats you’ve ever seen, or my name isn’t Lola Embers! Just give me a little time and we’ll be ready for touring, darling! Just you wait and see!”
Fig rolled her eyes and blew her bangs out of her face. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Lola. Catch you later!” That ought to keep her out of my hair! she thought as she ended the call and turned back to her friends.
Three months later an astonished Fig watched as two dozen (real) rats did the most amazing dance number she’d ever seen, and, much to her chagrin, found herself signing a new contract with Lola Embers and Flashpoint Records.
“You won’t regret this at all, Fig baby!” crowed Lola as Fig signed her name with a flourish.
Fig sighed and looked over at the rats. Fabian was mimicking their moves while looking very impressed.
“No, I don’t think I will.”