ITS BAAAACK! Honestly this is the only story I was ever inspired to finish, and it's you people's favorite. So, carrying on...
Okay, look, I know this story doesn't even start in Redwall, but it has to in order for the characters to know some songs that don't exist in Redwall otherwise. I don't even like the human-transmoggified-and-sent-to-Mossflower stories, but I promise there's an actual reason for this. I promise. Just give it a try and maybe you'll like it.
Not snow nor sleet nor their bus driver's loud protests could stop the high school show choir from singing. The bus rang with all 65-ish of them singing at top volume, with just enough of them off-pitch to make their director, sitting at the front of the bus, nervous.
"I'd think that, seeing as I'm driving you all to a choir festival, that they'd sound better!" the bus driver grumped.
The piano player, a homely middle-aged woman, put her hand on the director's shoulder, simultaneously soothing her and explaining to the driver, "Every single one of them know their parts by heart. They're just going off pitch for the fun of it."
"They're making me a little nervous," the director mumbled.
"They're driving me crazy!" the bus driver grouched. He raised his voice over the singing. "Shut up!"
The piano player scowled at him. "They're just singing. It's what a choir does."
"They've been making noise non-stop for the past two-and-a-half hours!" he shouted back. "Can't you make them stop?"
The director shook her head. "Nope."
The teenagers hit a chord, the off-pitched voices clashing terribly. They all started laughing at the horrendous sound. The bus pulled onto a bridge over a deep ravine. The driver didn't notice the yellow'Bridge may be icy' sign. He snarled at the director and the piano player. "Then I will!"
He half-rose out of his seat, facing away from the windshield. "SHUT UP!" he roared at the teenagers. "SHUT UP!"
The bus' wheels slid on the ice-covered bridge, sending the bus skidding to the right. The choir's shocked silence turned to shrieks and shouts of surprise. The bus driver turned back around, jerking the steering wheel. The bus lurched in response, skidding in the other direction. More screams and shouting. The driver spun the wheel and stomped on pedals, panicking. The bus veered into the bridge rail and punched through it.
If the bus had been loud before, it was worse now; all 65-ish teens, leaders, and bus driver screaming louder than ever before as their bus went down, down, down...
None of them felt the final impact.
I do own everything in this chapter only, I guess