This one's for you Shannyn, since I didn't have any money to buy you an
actual birthday present. ;-)
How the Binch TRIED to Steal Bandmas
From Diana, to Shannyn! :-D
********************
The story starts with Lauren and Diana.
"I know, that chem test was so stupid...... memorize the conversion factors my ass-"
Diana's rants were cut short by the sight of her beloved band room. Lauren stood beside her in the doorway, mouth gaping and eyes bulging. It was quite clear what was causing this reaction.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
Mr. Zimmerman, the band director, had bounded out from his office with a strange grin on his face. His large santa hat (two sizes too big) sported a big embroidered eighth note, and had an obnoxious tinkling bell on the end. A large, rude-looking santa face was plastered across his knitted sweater, with red lights on the nose and cheeks that lit up when you pressed just the right button. However, that wasn't the scariest thing.
"Green. Green pants. Oh my GOD MY BAND DIRECTOR IS WEARING BRIGHT GREEN PANTS!!!"
Unable to bear it, Lauren turned and ran smack into one of the horn lockers.
"Oww... goddammit...."
Mr. Zimmerman immediately sprang forward to help his fallen student, which involved a lot of odd jingling and red blinking lights. Diana walked forward, carefully stepping over the brightly colored Christmas lights that graced the ceiling, the floor, and the walls......every nook and cranny of the band room. Lauren stood up, brushing the dust bunnies off her pants and squinting at the intense light.
"Ah! Ah've been blinded! Ah can't see!" Lauren wailed, in a crude Pippin imitation accent. Diana marched over to where Mr. Zimmerman stood, whistling and hanging a new set of multi-colored net lights.
"Uh, Mr. Zimmerman, what are you doing?"
The new band director grinned at her.
"Decorating..."
Lauren looked up from her perch on the floor.
"But why?" She said irritably, rubbing her backside.
"Erm, just getting into the spirit you know! The Christmas spirit!"
"Then why are you wearing a kippah and holding a menorah in your left hand?"
"Erm...."
Just then, Sarah B, Shannyn, and Amanda came out of one of the many practice rooms, all three sporting rather large sunglasses.
"Don't ask, trust me, it's very long and complicated," Shannyn sighed.
Amanda leaned in to Diana's ear as Sarah hoisted Lauren up off the floor.
"We think Conaway accidentally dropped his Tuba bell on Z's head...We're not entirely sure though...."
"Blinkin!"
All five students turned.
"Eh?"
"The lights! I made them blink!"
"That's...great Z!" Shannyn said, smiling in a very cheesy manner.
Amanda rolled her eyes, and swiftly unplugged a huge rubber plug (as big as a Tuba!) out from its outlet. All the lights went out. It was pitch black.
"Ah! Ah can't see! Ah've been blinded!"
"Lauren, stop that."
"Sorry."
CRASH! BOOM! "What was that?"
"I don't know!"
"Well don't look at me, I'm only a clarinet player!"
"Idiot, how do you know I'm looking at you if it's dark?"
"Stupid woodwind, now we can't even see!"
SMACK!
"Ow..."
"Serves you right."
"Guys, this isn't getting us anywhere..."
"No, but it made me feel better. I've wanted to smack her for ages...."
Suddenly, a single flashlight was lit, eerily illuminating the face of our heros' band director, santa hat and all.
"Wooo.... I am the ghost of Bandmas Past!"
The five students looked at him skeptically.
"No you're not..."
Mr. Zimmerman's arms flailed wildly.
"WoOoOo! Yes I am!"
Five voices answered him.
"NO YOU'RE NOT!"
The end of Mr. Z's santa hat drooped.
"Alright, I'm not, fine. But he is."
The silvery apparition that had been standing behind him waved.
"AHHHHHHHH!!!!!! A GHOST! RUUUNNN!!!"
CRASH! BOOM! BREAK! SPLINTER! OWIE!
"Oops..."
"Don't worry Sarah, those cymbals were crap anyway...."
"Ach! Don't call me a ghost, lass! Ah'm a spirit, an' callin' me that would will do jus' fain."
The 'spirit' pointed a silvery finger at Lauren.
"'An yer accent be terrible. Stick ter ye English."
The five friends, including Mr. Zimmerman, stared in awe at the ancient, apparently Irish spirit in front of them. He was dressed as sensibly as a spirit could, with walking trousers topped by a practical woolen coat. He had horn-rimmed spectacles with which he was peering through intensely at them all, and a walking stick with a carved fox's head gracing the top.
Sarah was the first to stop cowering. She walked right up to the spirit and stuck a finger through his nose.
"Ah beg yer pardon?!?"
"Sorry, was just giving you a finger poke."
A grunt of 'Americans' was partially heard.
"So, are you like going to take us through the past and show us everything we did wrong with our lives, then ditch us so another ghost thing can pick us up and do it again? Then by the time we're done bring us back and we'll be changed individuals?"
The spirit flinched, and looked at Shannyn with surprise.
"O course not, where's the poin' in that? Stupid, 's what that tis. You bin watchin' too much TV."
"Oh. Well then, what are you doing here?"
The spirit raised himself up, and stuck out his silvery chest, gesturing wildly with his old walking stick.
"Ah've bin sent tah warn ye! Grave danger lies ahead!"
The dramatic proclamation was lost on our heroes.
"Eh, so what? We live in grave danger every, what with being near the trumpet section..." SMACK.
"Ow."
Diana wriggled her nose.
"Copycat."
"'Ave ye bin listenin tah wot Ah've bin sayin??? Grave danger! WoOoOoO!"
"And what, pray tell, does this 'danger' entail?"
The spirit stopped.
"Eh...potatoes?"
"Nope. Try again."
"The guard eequipmen'! 'S gonnae be stolen!"
Shannyn perked up.
"Stolen? By who?"
"Eh... dunno. Ye can' expect wee spirit's tah know everythin'..."
With one last glance at them all, the spirit gave a grave nod, and disappeared in a swirling vapor of mist.
The lights came back on.
"Boy. That was weird."
Mr. Zimmerman went back to hanging his lights.
"You know, maybe we better check on the guard equipment? Just to make sure it's there?"
"Shannyn, it's 3:13, tomorrow's Christmas Eve, and tonight's our concert. There is no pyscho running around stealing guard equipment. If we pursue said maniac, I will miss my bus. This is bad."
Sarah swung an arm around Diana's shoulders.
"Ah perk up! If you miss it I'll take you home. My mom's picking me up."
Diana shifted uneasily.
"Ok."
So the five friends walked out of the band room, leaving Mr. Z whistling 'Sleigh Ride' to himself. Lauren locked the band door behind them.
"So he doesn't leave and hurt himself or something." She explained, under the questioning looks of the others.
How the Binch TRIED to Steal Bandmas
From Diana, to Shannyn! :-D
********************
The story starts with Lauren and Diana.
"I know, that chem test was so stupid...... memorize the conversion factors my ass-"
Diana's rants were cut short by the sight of her beloved band room. Lauren stood beside her in the doorway, mouth gaping and eyes bulging. It was quite clear what was causing this reaction.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
Mr. Zimmerman, the band director, had bounded out from his office with a strange grin on his face. His large santa hat (two sizes too big) sported a big embroidered eighth note, and had an obnoxious tinkling bell on the end. A large, rude-looking santa face was plastered across his knitted sweater, with red lights on the nose and cheeks that lit up when you pressed just the right button. However, that wasn't the scariest thing.
"Green. Green pants. Oh my GOD MY BAND DIRECTOR IS WEARING BRIGHT GREEN PANTS!!!"
Unable to bear it, Lauren turned and ran smack into one of the horn lockers.
"Oww... goddammit...."
Mr. Zimmerman immediately sprang forward to help his fallen student, which involved a lot of odd jingling and red blinking lights. Diana walked forward, carefully stepping over the brightly colored Christmas lights that graced the ceiling, the floor, and the walls......every nook and cranny of the band room. Lauren stood up, brushing the dust bunnies off her pants and squinting at the intense light.
"Ah! Ah've been blinded! Ah can't see!" Lauren wailed, in a crude Pippin imitation accent. Diana marched over to where Mr. Zimmerman stood, whistling and hanging a new set of multi-colored net lights.
"Uh, Mr. Zimmerman, what are you doing?"
The new band director grinned at her.
"Decorating..."
Lauren looked up from her perch on the floor.
"But why?" She said irritably, rubbing her backside.
"Erm, just getting into the spirit you know! The Christmas spirit!"
"Then why are you wearing a kippah and holding a menorah in your left hand?"
"Erm...."
Just then, Sarah B, Shannyn, and Amanda came out of one of the many practice rooms, all three sporting rather large sunglasses.
"Don't ask, trust me, it's very long and complicated," Shannyn sighed.
Amanda leaned in to Diana's ear as Sarah hoisted Lauren up off the floor.
"We think Conaway accidentally dropped his Tuba bell on Z's head...We're not entirely sure though...."
"Blinkin!"
All five students turned.
"Eh?"
"The lights! I made them blink!"
"That's...great Z!" Shannyn said, smiling in a very cheesy manner.
Amanda rolled her eyes, and swiftly unplugged a huge rubber plug (as big as a Tuba!) out from its outlet. All the lights went out. It was pitch black.
"Ah! Ah can't see! Ah've been blinded!"
"Lauren, stop that."
"Sorry."
CRASH! BOOM! "What was that?"
"I don't know!"
"Well don't look at me, I'm only a clarinet player!"
"Idiot, how do you know I'm looking at you if it's dark?"
"Stupid woodwind, now we can't even see!"
SMACK!
"Ow..."
"Serves you right."
"Guys, this isn't getting us anywhere..."
"No, but it made me feel better. I've wanted to smack her for ages...."
Suddenly, a single flashlight was lit, eerily illuminating the face of our heros' band director, santa hat and all.
"Wooo.... I am the ghost of Bandmas Past!"
The five students looked at him skeptically.
"No you're not..."
Mr. Zimmerman's arms flailed wildly.
"WoOoOo! Yes I am!"
Five voices answered him.
"NO YOU'RE NOT!"
The end of Mr. Z's santa hat drooped.
"Alright, I'm not, fine. But he is."
The silvery apparition that had been standing behind him waved.
"AHHHHHHHH!!!!!! A GHOST! RUUUNNN!!!"
CRASH! BOOM! BREAK! SPLINTER! OWIE!
"Oops..."
"Don't worry Sarah, those cymbals were crap anyway...."
"Ach! Don't call me a ghost, lass! Ah'm a spirit, an' callin' me that would will do jus' fain."
The 'spirit' pointed a silvery finger at Lauren.
"'An yer accent be terrible. Stick ter ye English."
The five friends, including Mr. Zimmerman, stared in awe at the ancient, apparently Irish spirit in front of them. He was dressed as sensibly as a spirit could, with walking trousers topped by a practical woolen coat. He had horn-rimmed spectacles with which he was peering through intensely at them all, and a walking stick with a carved fox's head gracing the top.
Sarah was the first to stop cowering. She walked right up to the spirit and stuck a finger through his nose.
"Ah beg yer pardon?!?"
"Sorry, was just giving you a finger poke."
A grunt of 'Americans' was partially heard.
"So, are you like going to take us through the past and show us everything we did wrong with our lives, then ditch us so another ghost thing can pick us up and do it again? Then by the time we're done bring us back and we'll be changed individuals?"
The spirit flinched, and looked at Shannyn with surprise.
"O course not, where's the poin' in that? Stupid, 's what that tis. You bin watchin' too much TV."
"Oh. Well then, what are you doing here?"
The spirit raised himself up, and stuck out his silvery chest, gesturing wildly with his old walking stick.
"Ah've bin sent tah warn ye! Grave danger lies ahead!"
The dramatic proclamation was lost on our heroes.
"Eh, so what? We live in grave danger every, what with being near the trumpet section..." SMACK.
"Ow."
Diana wriggled her nose.
"Copycat."
"'Ave ye bin listenin tah wot Ah've bin sayin??? Grave danger! WoOoOoO!"
"And what, pray tell, does this 'danger' entail?"
The spirit stopped.
"Eh...potatoes?"
"Nope. Try again."
"The guard eequipmen'! 'S gonnae be stolen!"
Shannyn perked up.
"Stolen? By who?"
"Eh... dunno. Ye can' expect wee spirit's tah know everythin'..."
With one last glance at them all, the spirit gave a grave nod, and disappeared in a swirling vapor of mist.
The lights came back on.
"Boy. That was weird."
Mr. Zimmerman went back to hanging his lights.
"You know, maybe we better check on the guard equipment? Just to make sure it's there?"
"Shannyn, it's 3:13, tomorrow's Christmas Eve, and tonight's our concert. There is no pyscho running around stealing guard equipment. If we pursue said maniac, I will miss my bus. This is bad."
Sarah swung an arm around Diana's shoulders.
"Ah perk up! If you miss it I'll take you home. My mom's picking me up."
Diana shifted uneasily.
"Ok."
So the five friends walked out of the band room, leaving Mr. Z whistling 'Sleigh Ride' to himself. Lauren locked the band door behind them.
"So he doesn't leave and hurt himself or something." She explained, under the questioning looks of the others.