thanks to my many (hem, hem...two...) reviewers for the wonderful feedback...
perc mad hatter-mmm, death threats...but seriously, if your school had Mr E...your winds'd hate the percs too...and I'm glad to help your craving for percussion stories...
katie-glad to hear from you again...it's good to know *someone* out there cares...and yeah, don't you just want to whack him upside his snooty head some days?...
enough already, you're saying...yeah, yeah...here's the next chapter...
Mr B. wasn't about to allow his band to tear itself apart...he had to stop them somehow. 'If they end up killing one another' he thought, 'then we'll *never* get that superior at state'
as if he thinks about anything else
But he had no idea how to stop the war.
-----------------------
But Rill knew. He ran over with his own sticks, raised Mrs. W onto his shoulders, and plunged into the battle. The sticks did no damage to his bulk, and when somebody got in his way he hit them with his own.
Soon he was in the center of the fight. "Do your stuff" he said to Mrs. W.
"STOP!" she yelled. Then she pretended to start crying. "I [sniff] can't believe you would [sob] *do* this to us." she wailed. ""how could you [sniff] ruin your chances for [sob] competition?"
"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed Meghan. "I never thought...if we don't have percs we won't get such good points for them...we'll never get that superior at state."
"that's my girl" muttered Mr. B.
Soon the winds, FCs and percussionists were safely separated. For the time being, anyway.
But don't think this is the end...the war rages on, as it will ever rage on.....
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
BTW...Mrs W is known to burst into tears in her jr high chorus classes...maybe she's just faking to get them to actually listen to her and not screw around...bears thinking about....
okee...so this is the last part I have written...and sorry it's so short...but to be honest I have no idea where I'm going from here...don't worry...it *will* continue...it just may take awhile...
and while you're waiting...that's a lovely button down there...why don't you press it and let me know what you think of my story?...
perc mad hatter-mmm, death threats...but seriously, if your school had Mr E...your winds'd hate the percs too...and I'm glad to help your craving for percussion stories...
katie-glad to hear from you again...it's good to know *someone* out there cares...and yeah, don't you just want to whack him upside his snooty head some days?...
enough already, you're saying...yeah, yeah...here's the next chapter...
Mr B. wasn't about to allow his band to tear itself apart...he had to stop them somehow. 'If they end up killing one another' he thought, 'then we'll *never* get that superior at state'
as if he thinks about anything else
But he had no idea how to stop the war.
-----------------------
But Rill knew. He ran over with his own sticks, raised Mrs. W onto his shoulders, and plunged into the battle. The sticks did no damage to his bulk, and when somebody got in his way he hit them with his own.
Soon he was in the center of the fight. "Do your stuff" he said to Mrs. W.
"STOP!" she yelled. Then she pretended to start crying. "I [sniff] can't believe you would [sob] *do* this to us." she wailed. ""how could you [sniff] ruin your chances for [sob] competition?"
"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed Meghan. "I never thought...if we don't have percs we won't get such good points for them...we'll never get that superior at state."
"that's my girl" muttered Mr. B.
Soon the winds, FCs and percussionists were safely separated. For the time being, anyway.
But don't think this is the end...the war rages on, as it will ever rage on.....
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
BTW...Mrs W is known to burst into tears in her jr high chorus classes...maybe she's just faking to get them to actually listen to her and not screw around...bears thinking about....
okee...so this is the last part I have written...and sorry it's so short...but to be honest I have no idea where I'm going from here...don't worry...it *will* continue...it just may take awhile...
and while you're waiting...that's a lovely button down there...why don't you press it and let me know what you think of my story?...