CHAPTER 4- MIKE VS. THE PERCUSSION SECTION. THIS WON'T BE PRETTY.
Mike walked into the band room during his study hall. Unfortunately for him, the percussion section was ready and waiting for him.
"We were beginning to wonder if you were gonna show up," one of the percussionists said.
"Like I wouldn't," said Mike.
He put his saxophone and bassoon together.
"Let's go," he said.
One of the percussionists, Pat, tried to hit him with a drumstick but he ducked and whacked Pat in the knee.
"OW!" he yelled, jumping up and down holding his knee.
"You hurt Pat!" yelled Scott, another percussion player. "Now I'm angry!"
He took a pair of cymbals and crashed them on Mike's head.
"My head's vibrating!" yelled Mike, trying to hit Scott with his bassoon. "My vision is blurry!"
"Good," said Lindsay, another percussion player. "Whatever bad things happen to you I'll be happy about."
Mike tried to hit her with his saxophone and she ducked and threw a xylophone at his head. He ducked and it crashed to the floor. The fighting went on and on and on. Soon the band room was a disaster. Chairs, music stands, and drumsticks/mallets went flying. The percussionists were trying to run Mike over with the piano when Mr. Shaw walked in.
"What in the name of John Williams is going on here?" he yelled.
The fighting stopped instantly.
"It was them," Mike and the percussionists said at the same time, pointing to each other.
"Ok, I'll ask you one more time," said Mr. Shaw. "What's going on?"
"Well," said Mike, "it was horrible. I walked into the band room minding my own business when they insulted me. I told them I didn't want to fight but did they listen? No! I try to be a peace maker and they chase me like mad people!"
"Is this true?" asked Mr. Shaw.
"No it's not," said Pat. "Mike walked in and insulted us. He made the first move and he hit my knee with his bassoon."
"No I didn't," said Mike.
"Yes you did," said all the percussionists.
"Well Mike, there's more of them than you," said Mr. Shaw, "I'm ashamed of you. You're a senior in wind ensemble. I thought that you would have common sense in that head of yours but no I was wrong. Therefore, I'm writing you up."
"Writing me up?" Mike asked, horrified. "You can't do that! I've never been written up in my entire life! I'm well, I'm me!"
"Yes and you're getting detention," said Mr. Shaw.
The percussionists laughed at him.
"What are you laughing at?" snapped Mr. Shaw. "I'm writing you up too."
"What? You can't do that!" said Lindsay.
"I can and I did," said Mr. Shaw.
"But.but.but." Scott protested.
"The great almighty Mr. Shaw has spoken," said Mr. Shaw. "Now go back to your study halls or where ever you came from."
"I'm so getting you back for this," Mike snapped at the percussionists.
"Not if we get you back first," said Pat. "We'll have another battle sometime soon."
"When?" snapped Mike.
"Soon," said Pat.
They glared at each other and left.
Mike walked into the band room during his study hall. Unfortunately for him, the percussion section was ready and waiting for him.
"We were beginning to wonder if you were gonna show up," one of the percussionists said.
"Like I wouldn't," said Mike.
He put his saxophone and bassoon together.
"Let's go," he said.
One of the percussionists, Pat, tried to hit him with a drumstick but he ducked and whacked Pat in the knee.
"OW!" he yelled, jumping up and down holding his knee.
"You hurt Pat!" yelled Scott, another percussion player. "Now I'm angry!"
He took a pair of cymbals and crashed them on Mike's head.
"My head's vibrating!" yelled Mike, trying to hit Scott with his bassoon. "My vision is blurry!"
"Good," said Lindsay, another percussion player. "Whatever bad things happen to you I'll be happy about."
Mike tried to hit her with his saxophone and she ducked and threw a xylophone at his head. He ducked and it crashed to the floor. The fighting went on and on and on. Soon the band room was a disaster. Chairs, music stands, and drumsticks/mallets went flying. The percussionists were trying to run Mike over with the piano when Mr. Shaw walked in.
"What in the name of John Williams is going on here?" he yelled.
The fighting stopped instantly.
"It was them," Mike and the percussionists said at the same time, pointing to each other.
"Ok, I'll ask you one more time," said Mr. Shaw. "What's going on?"
"Well," said Mike, "it was horrible. I walked into the band room minding my own business when they insulted me. I told them I didn't want to fight but did they listen? No! I try to be a peace maker and they chase me like mad people!"
"Is this true?" asked Mr. Shaw.
"No it's not," said Pat. "Mike walked in and insulted us. He made the first move and he hit my knee with his bassoon."
"No I didn't," said Mike.
"Yes you did," said all the percussionists.
"Well Mike, there's more of them than you," said Mr. Shaw, "I'm ashamed of you. You're a senior in wind ensemble. I thought that you would have common sense in that head of yours but no I was wrong. Therefore, I'm writing you up."
"Writing me up?" Mike asked, horrified. "You can't do that! I've never been written up in my entire life! I'm well, I'm me!"
"Yes and you're getting detention," said Mr. Shaw.
The percussionists laughed at him.
"What are you laughing at?" snapped Mr. Shaw. "I'm writing you up too."
"What? You can't do that!" said Lindsay.
"I can and I did," said Mr. Shaw.
"But.but.but." Scott protested.
"The great almighty Mr. Shaw has spoken," said Mr. Shaw. "Now go back to your study halls or where ever you came from."
"I'm so getting you back for this," Mike snapped at the percussionists.
"Not if we get you back first," said Pat. "We'll have another battle sometime soon."
"When?" snapped Mike.
"Soon," said Pat.
They glared at each other and left.