Author's Note: I just thought I would like to make something up for once.
All the thought it took to write the chapters I have in The Quest to be a
Band Nerd took too much effort. So I decided to have fun. I hope you like
it! Please r/r, and tell me if you want to see more. Thanks!
The Section Wars
Chapter 1: The Division
There once was a single marching band, whose members lived together in peaceful harmony and bliss. They had no arguments, no disagreements, no quarreling whatsoever. They were as happy as anyone could be. However, this did not last long…
Unexpectedly, after one particular practice in which the band director, Hazzard, had yelled at Scott for playing a wrong note, everything began to go downhill. Scott claimed that he had not played the wrong note, but that it was just a trombone player acting like a trumpet. As absurd as this sounds, Scott had a way of forcing his thoughts into those with weaker minds, and the clarinets were soon convinced. (No offense!)
"Stupid low brass!" exclaimed the irate Scott. "We always get blamed for their mistakes. The only reason we get yelled at for not balancing is that they don't play loud enough!"
"I concur!" stated Emily, a knowledgeable oboist whose conversations were usually limited to key phrases (including kinkalisciously so *wink*). "Low brass bites!"
"Yeah! Woodwinds kick brass any day!" added flutist, Holley.
"I don't think so," replied Joanna, the flute section leader and girlfriend of the boner leader, Justin.
"That's just because you're in love with one of the stinking boners," retorted DJ, one of the trumpets.
"I say we declare war," concluded Jenna, clarinet section leader and DJ's girlfriend. "We should go to war against the filthy low brass!"
And so, with a heated discussion flared by the pure evil Scott, the woodwinds and trumpets turned on the poor, defenseless low brass. But this was not all that happened…
"I hate the clarinets," declared Justin openly. He was a bass clarinetist with distaste for the cruel section leaders that bossed him around daily. "I wish I didn't have to be in their section. It sucks."
"Stop whining," replied Vanessa, the other bass clarinet. "We all do. What's new?"
"I wish we would stop being blamed for the trumpets mistakes," added Amelia, the French horn section leader as they joined the low woodwinds' complaints about the high woodwinds and brass. "They always mess up and we always get the blame. Then again, you mess up too," she said to Andrew, another frenchie, with a wink.
Soon the entire low brass section had joined the argument. They loathed the trumpets and the high woodwinds, while the high woodwinds and trumpets despised them. Suddenly, out of the mass of arguing boners and tubas, one person stepped forward. "I say we declare war on the high woodwinds and trumpets! They can't treat us like this! We'll show them! Let's go!" With that, the low sections, and the horns, set off to challenge the high ones (NOT the ones that were on drugs, for those of you who were confused).
As the low brass and bass clarinets headed through the maze of chairs and stands in the band hall, Scott the Enforcer lead the trumpets and high woodwinds through from the other side. As the two groups met in the middle, a glare that could of killed issued from Scott's steady eye towards the low players.
"We declare war!" said Scott, in a quiet voice full of spite.
"Not before we do!" retorted the mystery low brass guy, full of pure malice against Scott, among the other players. "Negotiations for the rules of war will be held at noon. Be there!"
"So it's settled," thought Scott, and with a flare from his devilish eyes, performed a left flank and exited the band hall.
"So," the mystery guy thought aloud to his followers, "looks like we've got our war." There was a slightly detectable twinkle in his eyes as he produced a magnificent right flank and used the back exit of the band hall. The others of both sections could only follow in a mindless stupor as their fearless leaders lead the way to victory…or the exit.
The Section Wars
Chapter 1: The Division
There once was a single marching band, whose members lived together in peaceful harmony and bliss. They had no arguments, no disagreements, no quarreling whatsoever. They were as happy as anyone could be. However, this did not last long…
Unexpectedly, after one particular practice in which the band director, Hazzard, had yelled at Scott for playing a wrong note, everything began to go downhill. Scott claimed that he had not played the wrong note, but that it was just a trombone player acting like a trumpet. As absurd as this sounds, Scott had a way of forcing his thoughts into those with weaker minds, and the clarinets were soon convinced. (No offense!)
"Stupid low brass!" exclaimed the irate Scott. "We always get blamed for their mistakes. The only reason we get yelled at for not balancing is that they don't play loud enough!"
"I concur!" stated Emily, a knowledgeable oboist whose conversations were usually limited to key phrases (including kinkalisciously so *wink*). "Low brass bites!"
"Yeah! Woodwinds kick brass any day!" added flutist, Holley.
"I don't think so," replied Joanna, the flute section leader and girlfriend of the boner leader, Justin.
"That's just because you're in love with one of the stinking boners," retorted DJ, one of the trumpets.
"I say we declare war," concluded Jenna, clarinet section leader and DJ's girlfriend. "We should go to war against the filthy low brass!"
And so, with a heated discussion flared by the pure evil Scott, the woodwinds and trumpets turned on the poor, defenseless low brass. But this was not all that happened…
"I hate the clarinets," declared Justin openly. He was a bass clarinetist with distaste for the cruel section leaders that bossed him around daily. "I wish I didn't have to be in their section. It sucks."
"Stop whining," replied Vanessa, the other bass clarinet. "We all do. What's new?"
"I wish we would stop being blamed for the trumpets mistakes," added Amelia, the French horn section leader as they joined the low woodwinds' complaints about the high woodwinds and brass. "They always mess up and we always get the blame. Then again, you mess up too," she said to Andrew, another frenchie, with a wink.
Soon the entire low brass section had joined the argument. They loathed the trumpets and the high woodwinds, while the high woodwinds and trumpets despised them. Suddenly, out of the mass of arguing boners and tubas, one person stepped forward. "I say we declare war on the high woodwinds and trumpets! They can't treat us like this! We'll show them! Let's go!" With that, the low sections, and the horns, set off to challenge the high ones (NOT the ones that were on drugs, for those of you who were confused).
As the low brass and bass clarinets headed through the maze of chairs and stands in the band hall, Scott the Enforcer lead the trumpets and high woodwinds through from the other side. As the two groups met in the middle, a glare that could of killed issued from Scott's steady eye towards the low players.
"We declare war!" said Scott, in a quiet voice full of spite.
"Not before we do!" retorted the mystery low brass guy, full of pure malice against Scott, among the other players. "Negotiations for the rules of war will be held at noon. Be there!"
"So it's settled," thought Scott, and with a flare from his devilish eyes, performed a left flank and exited the band hall.
"So," the mystery guy thought aloud to his followers, "looks like we've got our war." There was a slightly detectable twinkle in his eyes as he produced a magnificent right flank and used the back exit of the band hall. The others of both sections could only follow in a mindless stupor as their fearless leaders lead the way to victory…or the exit.