The world domination-obsessed band came in the next day to work on two more pieces, Clark and Fillmore. The Smashers, on the other hand, dreaded the evilness that was to come. One song is an evil polka that abuses the woodwinds with complex notes and stuff. Another was a fast tune that lived up to its name (a.k.a. it sounded like circus music), but the bad thing was that it was in cut-time. Anyone could drop dead from this torture, but not the band! Even a Mary-Sue would die from this, but not the band! Those that were bestowed with the rare and beautiful gift of band nerdness were immune to death by excessive sixteenth note. Death by runaway timpanis or tuba cases… well, that's a whole different story.
«Die, scales! Die!» Link thought to himself as he had to play the scary scales.
«I'm telling on yooou! I'm telling on yooou!» Mewtwo said to Link telepathically.
«Wha—I'm not doing anything wrong!» Link thought to Mewtwo.
Mewtwo raised his… paw and Mr. Chapookey called him.
"Link's chewing gum!" Mewtwo said to the director.
"Go spit your gum out!" Mr. Chapookey told Link.
"But I—YUCK! How'd this ABC gum get into my—I'm gonna be sick…" groaned Link. He fainted and Mewtwo laughed at the Hylian's misfortune… psychically.
"Ok, Clark is next." The wise but insane director pulled every woodwind person dude that's on first up in front. Some of the others began to laugh.
"What's gonna happen? Why're they up there?" asked Peach.
"They're gonna get tortured," Clair replied.
The band began to play The Woodwind Polka and it sounded really cool. If Nergal getting defeated was how it worked on a bad guy, then it was worse on a band geek. Too many evil notes popping up and fingers getting tied up in knots. Plus the director started turning the stands around and lowering them so that the people up front would have to play by memory. Too cruel!
"Stop! Trombones and baritones, could you stand up about two measures before you come in?"
"Uh-oh… We're screwed," squeaked Luigi.
"Totally," chimed in Satoshi a.k.a. Guy.
"Not even Giygas was this psychotically evil!" moaned Ness.
"Ha-ha, Fox!" guffawed Falco.
"Shut your beak, birdbrain, or we're gonna scrap!" Fox retorted.
"Oh yeah? How are you gonna do that? Trombone-Boy!"
"I'll email this one author to write a shounen—no, even better, yaoi fic about you!" Fox cackled evilly in the corner.
"Go back to your seat, Fox!" hollered Mr. Chapookey.
"Oops… How'd I get in the corner…?" Fox went back to his seat after pulling off blood-thirsty dust bunnies from his fur.
"Think about it, Einstein! What's the most common slash pairing with me? You and me!" Falco shouted.
"Not this one. I'll ask the author to write one with you and… Slippy!" Fox began to laugh demonically and fell over in his seat.
"What? Slippy? You're evil!" Falco gasped.
"How about Peppy instead?"
"Ok, ok! Slippy's good! Eww… me and Peppy… Over my dead body! I want nothing to do with that old man! That's disturbing!" Falco shuddered and turned back to his music.
Fox got back up and grinned victory. The evil and crazed drum major, Eric (who likes to go by Cartman even though that's not his name), was curious about the discussion. In fact, he's always curious about things. Curiosity may have killed the proverbial cat, but it only sucks him into crazy misadventures.
"Where're you going to find this author you speak of, Fox? Piña colada!" asked Cartman.
"It's some chickadee I've seen around the site. Her work's pretty good, especially her slash fics. I've never seen her write yuri or yaoi, but I'm gonna ask her once we return to the Smash Mansion to get Falco back," said Fox.
"What's the penname? I might check it out too… Narf!"
"It's Mariruri no Akuma-chan. Pretty interesting for a Gothic chick, lotsa utter pointless randomness, twisted humor…"
There was a sudden loud middle B-flat coming from the oboes. Because Marth was blessed with a Mary-Sue oboe, he was playing a perfect B-flat instead of squeaking loudly to cause deafness to anyone within a 10-mile radius. Too bad for him.
"Why are you playing a B-flat?" asked Kagome.
"To… Ugh… Nothing!"
The band continued to torture themselves with the polka until half the period was over. Next was… Fillmore! Dun dun dun duuuun! It was a little more fun because it wasn't polka, but harder due to the time signature. As one of the percussionists on mallets was playing, one of the sticks flew out of one hand. Where it'll land, nobody knows…
Bam!
"Ouch! Blankity-blank-blank-blanking-blanker!" hollered the tenor sax Roy as he was hit by a flying mallet.
"Watch your language, Roy!" hollered Mr. Chapookey.
"I was!" the Roy on cymbals snapped back.
"Not you! I was talking to the other one… that's starting a fire in the tenors…"
Indeed, there was a fire starting up and everyone got up and jumped into the director's arms for safety. Even though he's a powerful and wise director with a tendency to be a little… odd sometimes, he cannot hold roughly around 86 people in his arms. (Around 60 for the concert band plus 26 with the Smashers.) Just then, the fire alarm went off! It was loud and proud… then it started to die and ended up sounding like a bird chirping. But the water sprinkler thingy didn't dowse the flames because the school was ghetto. That left only one thing to do:
"Save us, Obi-Wan Kenobi!" everyone screamed as they ran out the band room.
Then one of the stands from the row behind the tenors fell onto the flames, putting it out. The brave stand risked its life to save the band's! What joy! The band returned to see no damage to the room at all. Weird…
"ROY!" shouted the director.
"You're dead now," laughed Cymbal Roy.
"Uh-oh… Save me, Obi-Wan Kenobi!" chanted Tenor Sax Roy.
The band began to pack up after class ended. As they began to leave or whatever, Marth decided to chat with Clair.
"Hi there!" he said.
"Yello," she replied.
"I've noticed that you're not speaking to Johnny… Why is that?" Marth asked.
She glanced at the percussionist in question then looked back to Marth. "Eh, no reason. I don't talk much, remember?"
"Seems like you're… distant from him."
Clair gestured Marth to come closer and she whispered something to him.
"What? That jerk!" Marth looked around to find Johnny. After spotting him chatting with some of his pals, Marth stomped over to him.
"Marth! Get back here! Don't you dare say anything!" Clair protested. "You could just stalk him on MySpace or AIM! I'll tell you his screen name for AIM!"
Marth turned Johnny around and wasn't too happy. Marth glowered at him, seething with rage.
"…What's going on?" Johnny asked.
Marth took Johnny into one of the practice rooms and closed the door tight. It suddenly sounded like an episode of Tom and Jerry playing loudly in there! The whole band and all the Smashers gathered around the entrance to the hall to hear what's going on. After about 5 minutes, Marth and Johnny emerged. Marth was covered in injuries while Johnny was unscathed.
"Yikes! What happened?" asked Minney.
"Ow… I didn't know that Johnny could fight so well…" Marth collapsed onto the floor amid all the commotion.
"Dude! Didn't you know that we'd all go to each other's houses and watch hours upon hours of Tom and Jerry?" asked one of Johnny's friends.
The Smashers bide their farewell and headed home to return tomorrow for more chaos.
