Chapter Three: The Top Secret Mission, Band Nerd Space-Time Continuum Warp
Wormhole To Another Bandhall In Another School Which Means You're In
Trouble Have Fun Random Come At The Worst Time Transporters, And The Tuba's
Plan
"All right. Here's what we're gonna do," Jeff, the president, spoke up loudly enough to be heard over all the panic and the depressed Dumb Majors. "To avoid further panic, we're going to create a new system. Section by section, the band officers are going to inspect each Band Nerd and decide upon an ultimate Disaster Section Leader. These leaders will be people we haven't seen much evidence of undue chaotic panic."
"Yeah, that'll be a hard decision for us in the trumpet section," Lindsay mumbled.
"Trumpet section? Try the tubas," Aimee replied.
"You're both right. It looks to me as if those two sections are the ones we're creating this whole system for," Jeff leaned over from his perch on the podium and whispered.
Amid suspicious glares, he straightened up and continued. "If there are any problems among your section, you are to calmly and rationally talk some sense into those wimps. ::AHEM:: 'Scuse me. Now, if you can't handle it yourself, see to it that he or she or they remain calm, and report the problem to a band officer. If we're organized into an hierarchy of power, this will go much more smoothly."
"Yeah, uh-huh. HE just wants to be the big boss. This is finally his chance to eliminate Ken from the competition," Allison, another flute player (all-state, in fact) and band officer accused in a low voice. This earned a nasty glare from Jeff.
"We will now begin our inspection phase!"
As the officers started on the far end of the Bandhall, the flutes whispered amongst themselves.
"Where could Mr. Batchelor have gone? He was right there, I saw him! I'M the one who shut the door, and I KNOW I didn't lock it," Katie muttered. It was still bothering her that she didn't lock the door, and somehow it had been locked. And where had Mr. Batchelor gone, anyway? There was no possible way he could have gotten out.
"I'm not sure, but I'd REALLY like to find out," Allison replied. She had ditched the few clarinets that were in the Bandhall to talk to the great and wonderful flutes. (*hehehehehehehehehehehehe!!! Sorry, Allison, I had to get you here somehow, and I just COULDN'T miss a chance to glorify the FLUTES! *)
"Hey, I was just wondering, though. Do you think we should go get Gillian? I mean, now that Mr. Batchelor isn't here to wake up and get her in even MORE trouble for leaving his office, maybe she'd like to come out? And she might know something that could help us. Now that it's not marching band anymore and we both leave the Bandhall relatively early, she spends more time here than us," Katie mused on a sudden impulse. She had totally forgotten Gillian was stuck in the office.
Allison and Katie looked at each other. "Naaaaaaaaaaaaah!!" they both said, smiling mischievously. (*heh heh heh, I apologize Gillian, but it's funny and I knew it'd make you mad…LOL! I'm so evil!! I'll change it if you want me to. *)
"Well, I DO say we investigate the uniform room. There might be something there ya'll missed," Allison whispered after quick contemplation of the situation.
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. But this mission has to be kept top secret, understood?" Katie intoned.
"Roger that, Cadet," Allison giggled. (*Hey, I just watched Cadet Kelly on the Disney Channel, can you blame me? Hehehe! *)
The two girls silently crawled into the uniform room, carefully avoiding calling attention to themselves in any way, and nobody knew they had gone.
Meanwhile, the French horn section was getting restless. They hadn't gone into panic-mode or started anything serious, why were they still stuck here waiting?
"I'm sooooo hungry!" Jenny moaned. (*Remember, Dumb Major's little sister*)
"Hey, look on the bright side. The tubas are big guys, we can eat them if we get hungry!!" Brooks, the perpetually optimistic horn suggested.
"EWWWWWWW GROSS YOU ARE SO DISGUSTING!" Jenny practically screamed back, unaware of the stares she was receiving.
Brooks chuckled at his little joke (which was just that, a joke. Or so we hope. Hmmmm, does anybody REALLY know how the minds of French horns work? I didn't think so.) Apparently, only Brooks found it funny.
"Hmmm, I wonder if we could act real bad in here, and then get kicked out of the Bandhall!" one of the symphonic horns wondered aloud. "I mean, there's no McAdow, so Jeff'd have to get real mad at us, which means we'd have to be real bad. But if we can't get kicked outta rehearsal, we might as well get kicked outta here!"
"I never understood that, either," another symphonic horn chipped in. "No matter how BAD we try to be, we've never gotten kicked out. This is sad, our lifelong goal is to get kicked out of rehearsal. But I say we give this new plan a shot."
"You DUMB-BUTT! We CAN'T get kicked outta the Bandhall, IT'S LOCKED SHUT!!" Jenny pointed out aggressively.
"Oh yeah."
The euphoniums weren't doing much better. There were only three, Andy, Riccardo, and Scott. Scott was the only freshman in the entire euphonium section for the year. And he had a way of, well, provoking people.
"Scott, will you please do us a favor and go read your Bathroom Reader and stop talking?" Riccardo interrupted one of Scott's weird stories.
"Oh, um, ok. Sure thing. Will do," Scott complied obliviously. (* NO HARM WAS MEANT TO ANYONE'S FEELINGS OR REPUTATIONS THROUGH WRITING THIS STORY. IF ANY HARM HAS BEEN DONE, I APOLOGIZE PROFUSELY. *)
Andy and Riccardo were playing cards with a deck dug out from Andy's baritone case. They were both losing. Somehow, this is possible in brass sections.
At the same time as all of this, (* oooooo MULTIPLOT, WHOO-HOO! *) the tubas were formulating a plan. A rather simple plan admittedly, because they're tubas, but a plan all the same.
"Uh, hey guys," Chris spoke up. "Don't you think we've been crying and whining long enough? I know this is real, real scary, and we're most likely not going to come out of it alive and see our mommies again, but still. We need to try to survive, and show the band what we're really made of!"
All the tubas rallied around the cause, cheering and raising morale. They out their heads together, and began whispering. As if two tuba heads were better than one. Ha.
"What are they DOING?" Jenny asked Sandy, across the Bandhall from the tubas.
"I'm not really sure, and I'm not really sure I WANT to know," Sandy replied, completely absorbed in her Chinese comic book. It was a good one, too, and now that she had it hidden from Patrick and Mickey (two sophomore trumpets completely fascinated by Sandy's ability to read the Chinese comic books, and the books themselves), she was bound and determined to enjoy it to the fullest extent possible.
"It's like they're in some sort of, I don't know, huddle. Sandy, you've GOT to see this!" Jenny persisted, unaware of Sandy's prior engagement.
Sighing, Sandy reluctantly put down her comic book and looked. They WERE in some sort of huddle. But what they were talking about, she had no idea.
"At least they're not crying or anything. That was awful. Hopefully they're keeping each other calm. You know, playing tuba is a genetic disorder. Really. They must have some seriously messed up DNA."
One French horn sighed (* Yep, back to those French horns. ::COUGH COUGH JEFF COUGH COUGH:: *)
"I am so bored. Why aren't you guys talking?"
"A) You're from a different school, we have no idea who you are, where you came from, and why you're here, and we're choosing to shun you. B) We're busy Genius," an LC horn spoke up to the 'Fair horn. It was true. He had absolutely no idea how he'd gotten to LCHS, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be here anymore. (It must have been one of those weird Band Nerd Space-Time Continuum Warp Wormhole To Another Bandhall In Another School Which Means You're In Trouble Have Fun Random Come At The Worst Time Transporters. Hey, EVERYONE'S been in one of THOSE, right? *Twilight Zone Music*)
Jeff, the 'Fair horn, looked around at all the LC horns. They WERE busy. They were all thoroughly engrossed in reading something. What were they all reading?
Suddenly Jeff realized what it was. IT WAS HARRY POTTER! ::DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUN!:: Jeff shrugged and went back to staring at the ceiling. "Harry Potter doesn't do much for me, anyway."
Immediately, Jeff's fragile French horn skull was assaulted with several Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire books. And every seven hundred pages hit their mark. (* Mwaahahahahahahahahaha *)
The tubas had almost finished formulating their plan. "Allrighty, then. Here's the deal: biggest to smallest we make a Tuba Pyramid up to the ceiling. Then we'll open a coupla windows and BINGO! We're outta here," Addison, another sophomore tuba whispered.
"Hey, that was MY line!" Chris whispered back in a hurt tone.
"Oh, shut up."
AND SO WE LEAVE OUR HEROS AND NOT-SO-HEROS STILL STUCK IN THE BANDHALL. KATIE AND ALLISON PLAN TO FIND OUT WHERE MR. BATCHELOR HAS DISAPPEARED TO, THE FRENCH HORNS ARE BEING BAD, CONFUSING, STUPID, AND JUST PLAIN WEIRD, AND THE TUBAS HAVE A PLAN. OH, AND GILLIAN IS STILL STUCK IN MR. BATCHELOR'S OFFICE. POOR UNSUSPECTING CLARINETTY GILLIAN. OH, WELL. WILL THE TUBAS SUCCEED IN RESCUING THE BAND? WILL ALLISON AND KATIE UNCOVER A BIG SECRET? AND WHO IS JEFF THE 'FAIR HORN ANYWAY?! TUNE IN NEXT TIME ON "HELP! (I'M TRAPPED IN THE BANDHALL)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
A/N: Ok, I know, it's a little cheesy. But it's a BAND STORY, what would you expect?! There you are, Jeff Barnhill, the French horns and your very own speaking part. Hehehe! This chapter is dedicated to Isabel and Jeff, who wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. Lol. And I seriously doubt anyone but the two of them still read it. Sorry anyone who is offended by this chapter (I have something special in store for you, Gillian, have no fear.) Sorry it took so long, as always. But it's Spring Break, so maybe things'll go a little faster (Readers are thinking, "Yeah, right, uh-huh, that's what she said LAST time.) Aaaaaaanyways, thanks this time around go to Steve, Mackadoodle (Yes, yes, you did help write the beginning of the third chapter, and I thank you for it. Lol.) and Izabelly Rose. Oh and Steve, if you think your version of this story is correct, you're dreaming man. Have fun sleeping! And I will continue to write it how it is: Woodwind Domination. WHOO-HOO! Allrighty, I'm outta here people. Cya 'round.
-Mitie Mouse
"All right. Here's what we're gonna do," Jeff, the president, spoke up loudly enough to be heard over all the panic and the depressed Dumb Majors. "To avoid further panic, we're going to create a new system. Section by section, the band officers are going to inspect each Band Nerd and decide upon an ultimate Disaster Section Leader. These leaders will be people we haven't seen much evidence of undue chaotic panic."
"Yeah, that'll be a hard decision for us in the trumpet section," Lindsay mumbled.
"Trumpet section? Try the tubas," Aimee replied.
"You're both right. It looks to me as if those two sections are the ones we're creating this whole system for," Jeff leaned over from his perch on the podium and whispered.
Amid suspicious glares, he straightened up and continued. "If there are any problems among your section, you are to calmly and rationally talk some sense into those wimps. ::AHEM:: 'Scuse me. Now, if you can't handle it yourself, see to it that he or she or they remain calm, and report the problem to a band officer. If we're organized into an hierarchy of power, this will go much more smoothly."
"Yeah, uh-huh. HE just wants to be the big boss. This is finally his chance to eliminate Ken from the competition," Allison, another flute player (all-state, in fact) and band officer accused in a low voice. This earned a nasty glare from Jeff.
"We will now begin our inspection phase!"
As the officers started on the far end of the Bandhall, the flutes whispered amongst themselves.
"Where could Mr. Batchelor have gone? He was right there, I saw him! I'M the one who shut the door, and I KNOW I didn't lock it," Katie muttered. It was still bothering her that she didn't lock the door, and somehow it had been locked. And where had Mr. Batchelor gone, anyway? There was no possible way he could have gotten out.
"I'm not sure, but I'd REALLY like to find out," Allison replied. She had ditched the few clarinets that were in the Bandhall to talk to the great and wonderful flutes. (*hehehehehehehehehehehehe!!! Sorry, Allison, I had to get you here somehow, and I just COULDN'T miss a chance to glorify the FLUTES! *)
"Hey, I was just wondering, though. Do you think we should go get Gillian? I mean, now that Mr. Batchelor isn't here to wake up and get her in even MORE trouble for leaving his office, maybe she'd like to come out? And she might know something that could help us. Now that it's not marching band anymore and we both leave the Bandhall relatively early, she spends more time here than us," Katie mused on a sudden impulse. She had totally forgotten Gillian was stuck in the office.
Allison and Katie looked at each other. "Naaaaaaaaaaaaah!!" they both said, smiling mischievously. (*heh heh heh, I apologize Gillian, but it's funny and I knew it'd make you mad…LOL! I'm so evil!! I'll change it if you want me to. *)
"Well, I DO say we investigate the uniform room. There might be something there ya'll missed," Allison whispered after quick contemplation of the situation.
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. But this mission has to be kept top secret, understood?" Katie intoned.
"Roger that, Cadet," Allison giggled. (*Hey, I just watched Cadet Kelly on the Disney Channel, can you blame me? Hehehe! *)
The two girls silently crawled into the uniform room, carefully avoiding calling attention to themselves in any way, and nobody knew they had gone.
Meanwhile, the French horn section was getting restless. They hadn't gone into panic-mode or started anything serious, why were they still stuck here waiting?
"I'm sooooo hungry!" Jenny moaned. (*Remember, Dumb Major's little sister*)
"Hey, look on the bright side. The tubas are big guys, we can eat them if we get hungry!!" Brooks, the perpetually optimistic horn suggested.
"EWWWWWWW GROSS YOU ARE SO DISGUSTING!" Jenny practically screamed back, unaware of the stares she was receiving.
Brooks chuckled at his little joke (which was just that, a joke. Or so we hope. Hmmmm, does anybody REALLY know how the minds of French horns work? I didn't think so.) Apparently, only Brooks found it funny.
"Hmmm, I wonder if we could act real bad in here, and then get kicked out of the Bandhall!" one of the symphonic horns wondered aloud. "I mean, there's no McAdow, so Jeff'd have to get real mad at us, which means we'd have to be real bad. But if we can't get kicked outta rehearsal, we might as well get kicked outta here!"
"I never understood that, either," another symphonic horn chipped in. "No matter how BAD we try to be, we've never gotten kicked out. This is sad, our lifelong goal is to get kicked out of rehearsal. But I say we give this new plan a shot."
"You DUMB-BUTT! We CAN'T get kicked outta the Bandhall, IT'S LOCKED SHUT!!" Jenny pointed out aggressively.
"Oh yeah."
The euphoniums weren't doing much better. There were only three, Andy, Riccardo, and Scott. Scott was the only freshman in the entire euphonium section for the year. And he had a way of, well, provoking people.
"Scott, will you please do us a favor and go read your Bathroom Reader and stop talking?" Riccardo interrupted one of Scott's weird stories.
"Oh, um, ok. Sure thing. Will do," Scott complied obliviously. (* NO HARM WAS MEANT TO ANYONE'S FEELINGS OR REPUTATIONS THROUGH WRITING THIS STORY. IF ANY HARM HAS BEEN DONE, I APOLOGIZE PROFUSELY. *)
Andy and Riccardo were playing cards with a deck dug out from Andy's baritone case. They were both losing. Somehow, this is possible in brass sections.
At the same time as all of this, (* oooooo MULTIPLOT, WHOO-HOO! *) the tubas were formulating a plan. A rather simple plan admittedly, because they're tubas, but a plan all the same.
"Uh, hey guys," Chris spoke up. "Don't you think we've been crying and whining long enough? I know this is real, real scary, and we're most likely not going to come out of it alive and see our mommies again, but still. We need to try to survive, and show the band what we're really made of!"
All the tubas rallied around the cause, cheering and raising morale. They out their heads together, and began whispering. As if two tuba heads were better than one. Ha.
"What are they DOING?" Jenny asked Sandy, across the Bandhall from the tubas.
"I'm not really sure, and I'm not really sure I WANT to know," Sandy replied, completely absorbed in her Chinese comic book. It was a good one, too, and now that she had it hidden from Patrick and Mickey (two sophomore trumpets completely fascinated by Sandy's ability to read the Chinese comic books, and the books themselves), she was bound and determined to enjoy it to the fullest extent possible.
"It's like they're in some sort of, I don't know, huddle. Sandy, you've GOT to see this!" Jenny persisted, unaware of Sandy's prior engagement.
Sighing, Sandy reluctantly put down her comic book and looked. They WERE in some sort of huddle. But what they were talking about, she had no idea.
"At least they're not crying or anything. That was awful. Hopefully they're keeping each other calm. You know, playing tuba is a genetic disorder. Really. They must have some seriously messed up DNA."
One French horn sighed (* Yep, back to those French horns. ::COUGH COUGH JEFF COUGH COUGH:: *)
"I am so bored. Why aren't you guys talking?"
"A) You're from a different school, we have no idea who you are, where you came from, and why you're here, and we're choosing to shun you. B) We're busy Genius," an LC horn spoke up to the 'Fair horn. It was true. He had absolutely no idea how he'd gotten to LCHS, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be here anymore. (It must have been one of those weird Band Nerd Space-Time Continuum Warp Wormhole To Another Bandhall In Another School Which Means You're In Trouble Have Fun Random Come At The Worst Time Transporters. Hey, EVERYONE'S been in one of THOSE, right? *Twilight Zone Music*)
Jeff, the 'Fair horn, looked around at all the LC horns. They WERE busy. They were all thoroughly engrossed in reading something. What were they all reading?
Suddenly Jeff realized what it was. IT WAS HARRY POTTER! ::DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUN!:: Jeff shrugged and went back to staring at the ceiling. "Harry Potter doesn't do much for me, anyway."
Immediately, Jeff's fragile French horn skull was assaulted with several Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire books. And every seven hundred pages hit their mark. (* Mwaahahahahahahahahaha *)
The tubas had almost finished formulating their plan. "Allrighty, then. Here's the deal: biggest to smallest we make a Tuba Pyramid up to the ceiling. Then we'll open a coupla windows and BINGO! We're outta here," Addison, another sophomore tuba whispered.
"Hey, that was MY line!" Chris whispered back in a hurt tone.
"Oh, shut up."
AND SO WE LEAVE OUR HEROS AND NOT-SO-HEROS STILL STUCK IN THE BANDHALL. KATIE AND ALLISON PLAN TO FIND OUT WHERE MR. BATCHELOR HAS DISAPPEARED TO, THE FRENCH HORNS ARE BEING BAD, CONFUSING, STUPID, AND JUST PLAIN WEIRD, AND THE TUBAS HAVE A PLAN. OH, AND GILLIAN IS STILL STUCK IN MR. BATCHELOR'S OFFICE. POOR UNSUSPECTING CLARINETTY GILLIAN. OH, WELL. WILL THE TUBAS SUCCEED IN RESCUING THE BAND? WILL ALLISON AND KATIE UNCOVER A BIG SECRET? AND WHO IS JEFF THE 'FAIR HORN ANYWAY?! TUNE IN NEXT TIME ON "HELP! (I'M TRAPPED IN THE BANDHALL)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
A/N: Ok, I know, it's a little cheesy. But it's a BAND STORY, what would you expect?! There you are, Jeff Barnhill, the French horns and your very own speaking part. Hehehe! This chapter is dedicated to Isabel and Jeff, who wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. Lol. And I seriously doubt anyone but the two of them still read it. Sorry anyone who is offended by this chapter (I have something special in store for you, Gillian, have no fear.) Sorry it took so long, as always. But it's Spring Break, so maybe things'll go a little faster (Readers are thinking, "Yeah, right, uh-huh, that's what she said LAST time.) Aaaaaaanyways, thanks this time around go to Steve, Mackadoodle (Yes, yes, you did help write the beginning of the third chapter, and I thank you for it. Lol.) and Izabelly Rose. Oh and Steve, if you think your version of this story is correct, you're dreaming man. Have fun sleeping! And I will continue to write it how it is: Woodwind Domination. WHOO-HOO! Allrighty, I'm outta here people. Cya 'round.
-Mitie Mouse