Like all things band related, this story contains a lot of inside jokes that people not in band, or not in my band, probably won't get. Here is some semi-interesting info concerning this story: 1.) The phrase, "trumpets are always right" was created about 3 years ago by the first chair trumpets (who have both graduated by now), because, well, the trumpets were always right. 2.) This story was not F'd U up Production's first story. Last band camp, two trumpet players, Kyle and Carrie, wrote a hilarious screenplay called "Trumpets Gone Wild", which you will hopefully see on this site very soon. "Band Survival Guide" joined F'd U up productions later.
Well, that was boring. Without any further ado, or if you skipped this part without any ado, on with the story!
F'd U up Productions Presents
The Band Survival Guide
Lesson 2: Trumpets are always right
"This one time, at band camp…"
-American Pie
"Ahhh… another day, another band practice, another reason to die early, eh?" said Justin. It was, indeed, another band practice. A day at band camp to be exact. It was 7:48, twelve minutes till practice started, and all the veteran trumpets (Kyle, 1st chair - Justin, 2nd - Carrie, 3rd - and CJ, 4th) were sitting together in the band room.
"Yep. If God would just kill us we wouldn't have to do this anymore." said Carrie, repeating her band camp motto. "I seriously think this is a pre-cursor to Hell.
"Amen. Kyle, your band captain! That's like a step below God, can't you tell him to help us out?" said CJ.
"He won't return my phone calls." said Kyle.
"Crap. Anyone else? Jesus? Buddha? That cult leader down the street?"
"Nope. Nobody likes the band."
"Alright, people! Instruments out!" shouted Becky, the drum major.
"… Have you noticed that Becky and Andy run all of our practices?" asked Carrie.
"Yea… where the hell is Mrs. Harless?" said Kyle.
"Gynecologist appointment?" suggested Justin.
"She might be on another killing spree." said CJ.
"She probably just exploded." said Carrie.
"Have you even thought that she might have quit?" said Kyle.
"That would explain why she exploded."
"PEOPLE! NO TALKING!" screamed Becky.
"Your mom talks!" cried Cameron, desperately trying to keep the "Yo Mama" craze alive.
Becky sighed as she pulled her Field Captain 9mm from it's holster and shot Cameron in the arm.
"AHH! OH GOD!"
Kyle looked annoyed. "Goddam, he gets shot like every practice," he said. "You think he'd learn not to piss off a drum major with a gun by now."
"Or at least die of lead poisoning." said Justin
"Well I think-"
"SHUT UP JORDAN! THIRD TRUMPETS WILL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO!" Kyle shouted at Jordan, the littlest third trumpet of all. Jordan, along with the rest of the third trumpets, curled up defensively.
"Hmmm… that reminds me, " Andy, another drum major, started, "We've hired a professional sniper to guard the band room. Anyone caught trying to leave will be shot on sight."
"Big deal. I get shot all the time." Cameron said, apparently ignoring the bullet in his arm.
"You're right. As I will demonstrate."
BANG!
"AH!"
"We've also tapped the phone lines," Becky began, "So if anyone tries to call 911, they will be subjected to our 'special' form of interrogation."
"What kind of interrogation?" asked Dewey.
"It involves a dog, a pineapple, and a copy of 'Miss Congeniality 2'."
"Oh God…."
"So I take it you all are going to be good little prisoners?" said Becky. Andy elbowed her in the side.
"Hmpf…. I mean band students. He heh heh…"
"Alright then," said Andy. "Warm up for a little while. I have to go make a deal with the Japanese mafia."
Andy left the band room. Conversations started, with almost no one except the trumpets actually warming up. (to be fair, some were tending to their wounds.)
Fifteen minutes passed, and Andy still hadn't returned. The trumpets had long since warmed up. This gave them time to think.
"Hey… we had to chose to join band, right?" asked Justin.
"Yeah," answered Kyle.
"So why the hell are we staying in band when they have drum majors who shoot you if you make a smart remark, snipers that shoot you when you try to run away, and tapped phone lines when you call 911?"
Because the authors hadn't really thought this out when they wrote this stupid story." said CJ.
"Oh, okay. Speaking of which, Carrie, have you finished the latest episode of 'Trumpets Gone Wild'?"
"Yeah, but I left it at home." said Carrie.
"Crap. Well, what happens in it?"
"You have sex with a dog,"
"What!" cried Justin.
"CJ buys some mint-flavored condoms for his gay lover,"
"WHAT!" bellowed CJ.
"Kyle develops an odd pleasure from caressing rusty things,"
"But my therapist says I'll be better in, like two weeks." said Kyle, defensively.
"And I do inappropriate things to my Aquafina bottle." finished Carrie.
"…"
"…"
"What?" said Carrie.
"You bitch." said Justin and CJ in unison.
"Hey, it's better than this piece-of-shit story." said Kyle.
"Yep." said Carrie.
"You made me have sex with a dog?" screamed Justin.
"You made me GAY?" shouted CJ.
"What? Did I tell your secret too soon?" taunted Carrie.
"GAAARRRGG!" screamed CJ. "JORDAN! GET OVER HERE!"
Jordan cautiously stepped forward, only to have CJ throw a haymaker in his face, sending him flying backwards.
"Ahhh…" sighed CJ. "I fell better now."
"Man, hitting your underlings just never gets old." said Kyle.
"Yeah. I remember when I was your underling," Justin said as he rubbed an old scar on his side. "Man, did that suck. You were violent."
"I'm still violent, and technically you're still my underling."
"…Shit."
"Maybe we shouldn't abuse the newblets so much," stated CJ. "They might quit."
"That's what the snipers are for." said Carrie.
"Well, their parents could see the bruises and make them quit… we really can't shoot the parents, too."
"Hello! That' the main reason parents make their kids stay in band!" said Carrie. Kyle Justin CJ, and Carrie suddenly looked sad. "Oh…"
"Alright, people, I'm back!" Andy said as she walked in. "Sorry it took so long. You'd be surprised how long it takes to saw off a horse's head.."
"Hey, where'd Becky go?" whispered Justin. "She could've ran practice while Andy was gone…"
"QUIET!" screamed Andy. "Okay, let's get to work. Trumpets, letme hear the fanfare at measure 17. 1...2...ready…play."
Somewhere, in a place we've all dreamt about but have never seen for ourselves, the gates of Heaven opened.
St. Peter looked pleased. "Ah, the Sheldon Clark trumpets must be playing." he said.
Andy, for the first time since the last time she heard the trumpets play, looked pleased as well. "Good," she said. "Now lets hear the clarinets play at 17. Play it just like the trumpets. Okay?"
"Got it." said Tera, a Clarinet player.
"That means play it good." said Andy.
"Yeah. Okay." said Clyde, another clarinet player.
"Alright," said Andy. "1, 2, ready, play."
Squuuaaaaaawwwwwwk!
Somewhere, in a place that haunts our nightmares, n a place we hope to never have to go, the gates of Hell opened.
"Hey! Someone shut he band room door!" said Andy. Suddenly, a huge fire appeared beside Andy, and Becky stepped out of it, unscathed.
"DO I HAVE TO GET THE PUPPY AGAIN!" she shouted at the clarinets.
"No, Becky…" said Tera and Clyde.
"Besides, PETA will just save the puppy again." said Cameron sarcastically.
BANG!
"Ah! Godammit!"
"That will just never get old." said Becky, blowing on the barrel of her gun.
"Hey! It was my turn to shoot Cameron!" said Andy.
"Nuh-uh. You shot him last."
"But I'm his section leader, so I get secondsies!"
"But I'm lead drum major."
"SAID WHO!"
"SAID ME BITCH!"
"Uuuuhhh…. I think now would be a good time for sectionals…" said Kyle, nervously.
"SECTIONALS! HURRY PEOPLE!" shouted Justin.
The band rushed out of the band room, frantically dodging the bullets and fireballs being exchanged by the drum majors.
END
Next Chapter: Practice Safe Sax
Justin: Whew, another chapter done. And Cameron gets shot, let's see, one… two… three times! Yay! This chapter was written solely by me, and the next chapter will be written solely by the drum major, Andy. Hope you enjoyed this story so far, and please review!
