Summary: Mom signs Calvin up to an orchestra.
And now back to Calvin and Hobbes: the Series
Written by garfieldodie and Swing123
Chaos to my Ears
Calvin and Hobbes were sitting in their bedroom, reading comic books and waiting for dinner. Not much was going on.
But downstairs, Mom and Dad were sitting at the kitchen table.
Mom was looking over a note from Calvin's school.
"Well, Calvin's done it again," she said. "According to Miss Wormwood, Calvin didn't do his homework, drew aliens on the chalkboard, failed his last three tests, shot spitballs at Susie, and put a tack in her chair."
Dad sighed.
"What are we gonna do with him?" he sighed.
"I think that he needs more to do so as to give him a better sense of responsibility," said Mom.
"That might work, but what could he do? Every time we give him a chore, he breaks something. The vacuum, the vases, the pictures, the TV, my work desk, the lamps… And don't get me started on the peanut butter incident."
Mom shuddered.
"How about an after-school activity?" she suggested.
Dad thought.
"That could work," he said. "There are so many things he could learn from those, and they'd all build character. The school newspaper, the track team, baseball—"
"Band class," said Mom.
Dad froze.
"Um…what?" he asked.
"He'll take band class. I'll sign him right away."
Mom got up to call the school.
Dad looked nervous and grabbed her arm.
"Uh, dear, maybe you should ask him about this."
"What for? We already know he'll say no."
"Right, so why force him into something he won't like?"
"But you just said he could build character."
"Yeah, but band class builds way too much character."
Mom rolled her eyes.
"You're still traumatized from when you were in band class."
"Well, dear, you've got to realize that anyone who was ever in band never gets any respect! I mean, look at me! I'm a scrawny, balding guy with glasses! It says 'former band student' all over me!"
"Dear…"
Dad got down on his knees.
"Please, don't make him do it! I vowed never to force my own children into such a despicable class!"
"Well, I did not, so he's going."
Dad quickly ran upstairs and stood before Calvin and Hobbes, who were both sitting on the bed.
"Okay, what is about to happen is not my fault!" he said.
And then he leapt to the far corner of the room.
Mom entered.
"Good news, Calvin," she said. "I've signed you up to be in your school's band class!"
Calvin and Hobbes stared.
Hobbes hid under the bed at once.
This new information sunk in.
Calvin's eyes grew wide.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" he shouted.
Dad sighed.
"I warned you," he muttered.
Mom rolled her eyes.
"Practice starts after school tomorrow, so be there."
And Mom left.
Dad stood before Calvin.
"I'm sorry, son," he said, putting a hand on Calvin's shoulder. "I really am."
And he followed his wife.
Hobbes poked his head out from behind the bed.
Calvin just sat there.
"You know, I hate it when Mom does that. She signed me up for Camp Pine without asking me, and we got attacked by aliens! She did it again, and we were attacked by a bear! She signed me up for swimming lessons, and I nearly drowned."
"I think you benefited from them though," Hobbes said.
"How?"
"You now know you should avoid aliens, bears and water!"
"Ha, ha. You're funny."
"Thank you."
Calvin rolled his eyes.
"Hobbes, it's more than Mom making me do something I hate. Band kids are freaks! They have poofy hair, braces, glasses, pale faces and plaid shirts. In other words, they're geeks!"
"Well, you're missing the braces and glasses, but other than that, you'll fit right in," said Hobbes.
Calvin glared.
The next day, Calvin brought Hobbes to school with him.
"Thanks for coming, Hobbes," said Calvin as they walked out of the building towards the football field.
"No problem, buddy," said Hobbes. "I think I'd like to see these geeks you spoke of."
They reached the field.
There were several kids standing there.
Some held tubas.
Some held drums.
Some held trumpets.
Some held trombones.
Some held saxophones.
Phew! I'm probably forgetting a few things.
"Poor slobs," Hobbes muttered.
Calvin approached the band instructor.
"Hello, I'm Calvin," he said. "My mom is forcing me to join this despicable art you call band. And I'll have you know there should be a law against letting six-year-olds play music."
"Newcomer, eh?" said the instructor. "Well, I want you to go over to the extra instruments over there, and we'll see what you can play."
"Yessir."
After giving the band class their instructions, the instructor led Calvin and Hobbes to a bunch of metals and percussions.
Then in a sophisticated voice, the instructor said, "Welcome to Young Peoples Guide to the Orchestra. I am your instructor, Maestro Klein. We are here to fill your little mind with musical know-how."
Calvin and Hobbes exchanged glances.
"We shall begin with the clarinet."
Klein took out a clarinet.
"The clarinet…can play very high notes—" He paused to play some high notes on the instrument, "—and very low notes." He played the high notes again. Then he cleared his throat played the low notes.
Calvin watched him with an arched-eyebrow.
"It can be classical," Klein continued.
He played Symphony No. 9 on it.
"Or jazz."
He played a jazzy theme on it.
"Or ethnic."
He played a Bar Mitzvah song on it.
Calvin and Hobbes just stared at him.
"The clarinet can be the perfect button for situation-comedy television episode in which the harried father tries to hide the evidence of his absolutely kooky family…from his boss."
Klein grabbed a hat and started running around in circles.
Then his sophisticated voice went away, and was replaced with a nervous wimpy voice.
"Oh, Martha! Hide that! Mr Thorndike is coming! Oh-no! Junior, take the dog out! Oh-no! Here he comes! Oh-no-no!"
Then he played a light melody on the clarinet to illustrate the scene.
Then he waited for Calvin's reaction.
Calvin was staring at him with squinted eyes.
Hobbes was staring at him with wide eyes.
"Ummm, can I see a different instrument, please?" Calvin asked quietly.
"Certainly," said Klein, tossing the clarinet aside.
Then Klein yanked out a bongo drum and started to beat it.
BUM! BUM! BUM!
"I'm sure, young man, that you will recognize the rum-tum-tum of the drum-drum-drum."
Klein said that last part through gritted teeth.
"It is mostly regarded as a percussion instrument. Let's say that together. Per-cush-un."
Calvin didn't say anything.
"Per-cush-un!" Klein said again.
Still nothing.
"Fine, have it your way."
Then he held the drum in front of him.
"The drum was often used by primitive peoples as a means of communication."
Then he played a beat.
BUM-BA-DA! BUM! BUM! BUM-BA-DA! BUM-BA-DA-DAH! BUM! BUM! BUM!
"That means 'Bring home a container of milk'."
BA-DUM!
"Skimmed."
Calvin just looked at him.
"Why did your mom say this would help you learn responsibility?" he asked.
Calvin shrugged.
"Moving on," said Klein.
Klein pulled out a saxophone.
"The saxophone is curvy, and what else?"
"Yellowy," said Calvin.
"Yes, and what else?"
"It's got little pearl buttons that jump up and down."
"Fine, that's good enough. Now let's listen to a jazz record consisting the saxophone."
Klein put a record on a record player and started to play it.
A soft jazz song with a sax started to come out.
And Klein started to snap his fingers and dance along with it.
"Ooh, yeah," he said, sounding both sophisticated and funky at the same time.
Calvin rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, hoo! Oh, yeah!"
Hobbes sighed.
"Reefer! Oh!"
Calvin turned to Hobbes.
"Kinda reminds ya of Mr B-Natural, doesn't it?" He asked.
Hobbes rolled his eyes, then got bored and left.
"Interestingly enough, the saxophone was created by, of all things, a German."
Calvin's eyes grew narrow.
And then Klein danced and snapped some more.
"And through a peculiar series of circumstances, it's become a favorite instrument of…Cosby family members."
Calvin slapped his forehead.
Hobbes returned with a bag of chips.
"Did I mess anything?"
"Not really."
Klein continued to dance to the record.
"Yeeeeeaaaaaaaaahhhh," he said in a low voice.
The record ended.
Klein turned off the record player.
"So, kid, what'll it be?" he asked in a voice that a normal person would use.
Calvin and Hobbes just stared at him like he was crazy.
And he probably was.
"Can I go home now?" Calvin asked.
When Calvin got home, He went bursting through the front door.
Mom looked up from her sewing.
"Oh, hello, Calvin. How was band class?"
Calvin's eyes bulged, and a wide fake smile formed on his face.
"Oh it was wonderful! Oh wonderous fun! I've never been so happy in my life! I can't wait to go back tomorrow! WOW! It's all just so FUN!!!"
Calvin stuck his nose into his mother's face.
"FUN! FUN! FUN!"
And with that, he stormed up the stairs, grumbling to himself.
Dad rolled his eyes around, and didn't look at Mom.
Calvin burst into his room, where he found Hobbes reading a comic book.
Hobbes looked up, and put the comic book away.
"Oh, hello there. Back already?"
"Shut up." Calvin spat.
Calvin got onto the bed, grabbed the comic book off the desk, and began reading it.
Hobbes stared at him.
"Well, I'm assuming things didn't get much better after I left?" He asked.
"No, as a matter of fact, IT DIDN'T!"
"Well, maybe tomorrow will be better." Hobbes suggested.
"Yeah, and pigs can fly."
The next day, Calvin tried numerous times to escape school.
He tried smacking the erasers enough to cause a big enough cloud to escape. It didn't work, and he was sent to Mr Spittle's office.
Then, during lunch, Calvin started throwing food everywhere, which started a food fight, and enabled Calvin to rush out. However, Miss Wormwood caught him, and he was sent to Mr Spittle's office, again.
And when recess came, Calvin tried climbing over the fence and into freedom, but Miss Wormwood caught him again.
He was sent to Mr Spittle's office.
Again.
It was pretty much a typical day at school in other words.
When the bell rang at four o'clock, everyone in Calvin's class cheered, and rushed off.
Except Calvin, of course.
He grouchily trudged into the band room.
Klein was waiting for him.
"Ah, welcome. Ready to experience the wonders of music?"
"No." Calvin said, grumpily.
"Neither am I. Sit down."
Calvin muttered to himself, and sit down in a chair.
Klein stood in front of the class.
"Alrighty then. Let us begin."
Klein reached behind his desk, and pulled out a kazoo.
"This is a special instrument called a kazoo. It's like the clarinet, but smaller. And noisier."
Calvin blinked.
Klein put his lips to the kazoo, and blew into it.
HONK!
"AAAA!" Calvin screamed. "THAT NOISE! IT'S LIKE A NAIL SCRAPING MY BRAIN!"
Klein took it away from his mouth, and stared at it.
"I'm judging that whoever invented this was working on low budget." he said, throwing it over his shoulder.
That one little part can give you an idea how the rest of the lesson went.
When it was done, the other kids eagerly rushed out, but Calvin, surprisingly, hesitated.
He spent the next four seconds studying Klein.
He was writing something down on a notepad.
Hmmmm,
Calvin decided to try his luck.
He got out of his chair, marched over to Klein, and jabbed a finger at him.
"YOU DO NOT ENJOY TEACHING BAND, DO YOU!"
Klein looked up from his papers.
"What are you talking about?" He asked.
"The eyes tell it all!" Calvin screamed. "You always have your eyes on that TV over there!"
He pointed at a small TV in the corner.
"YOU don't like teaching these band geeks! DO YOU!"
"I love band." Klein said, crossing his arms.
His eye twitched.
Then he sighed.
"OK, so I don't like it. Why do you care?"
"Well, I don't like it either!" Calvin said.
"I noticed."
Calvin stared at him.
"How do you know that?" He asked.
"It's written all over your face." Klein said. "Plus you've told me a hundred times."
"Ninety nine times." Calvin said.
"Uh huh." Klein muttered. "Well, there's nothing either one of us can do about it, so we might as well deal with it."
Calvin thought.
"Hmm, I have a plan." He said.
"I'm taking that as a bad sign." Klein said, sitting up.
Calvin glared at Klein.
"I have a plan on how to get me out of this horrible place, and how to get you out!"
"Nope, can't leave." Klein said. "I'm working on a salary."
Calvin stared at him.
"Wow. What a way to live."
"My words exactly." Klein said.
"OK, then, I have an idea on how I can get out of this horrible place. But you'll need to help."
"What makes you think I'm going to help you?" Klein demanded.
Calvin reached into his pocket.
"I have gum?"
Klein stared at him.
"Is it mint?"
"Yup."
"OK, I'll help." Klein said.
Calvin handed him a stick of gum.
"OK." Calvin muttered. "Here's the plan of the century!"
When Calvin got home, he opened the door very carefully, and tiptoed up into his room.
Just then, Mom walked up to the base of the stairs.
"Hello, Calvin." She said. "How was band class?"
Calvin stopped.
He turned a sweet innocent grin onto her.
"Oh it was wonderful, mother. I've never had so much fun in my life! How could I ever misjudge you?"
"You know Calvin, I really hate your sarcasm." Mom said.
Calvin backed up into his room with that big stupid grin plastered all over his face.
He opened the door, back into it, and slammed the door.
Mom rolled her eyes, sighed, and walked away.
Dad walked by next.
"Poor kid." He muttered under his breath.
Calvin stood on the opposite end of the door.
Hobbes looked up from his comic book.
"Ah look who's home! It's tubaman himself!"
"Shut up." Calvin spat. "Klein has agreed to help me escape that place."
"Ah yes, another teacher/student conflict, eh?"
"No." Calvin growled. "Now shut up! It turns out that Klein hates his job, and although he can't leave it, he has agreed to spare me!"
"Huh." Hobbes said.
"In other words, I'm going to cooperate with an adult."
"That's weird."
"What?!"
"Nothing."
Calvin glared at him, then walked over to his MTM.
"This means, I'll have plenty of time to work on my voice activated MTM."
He picked the CD player up, and walked out of the room.
Hobbes watched.
"A grown up has agreed to help Calvin do something." He said, slowly.
He paused.
"I'm in a nightmare." He said.
The next day, Calvin didn't spend his entire day trying to escape.
For he knew his plan would work.
When 4 rolled around, Calvin happily walked into the band room.
Klein was waiting.
"Ah hello." He said. "Nobody's here yet, so I've been preparing."
"Goody." Calvin said. "Do you have the red wires in the red sockets?"
"Yes." Klein said.
He paused.
He ran over to a control panel on the wall, and checked.
"I do, now." He said, walking back up.
Calvin rolled his eyes.
"OK, fine, whatever. When you see my signal, push the button under you chair.
"Gothya. You better sit down. The class is coming."
Calvin looked up, then dove into his seat.
The rest of the class came in.
Klein stood in front of them.
"Welcome." He said. "Take you seats, and shut up."
The kids sat down.
"OK." He said. "Will the kazoo players please step forward?"
"Uh, Mr Klein?" Asked one of the kazoo kids.
"What?"
"Someone broke into our house, and sabotaged our kazoos."
Klein stared at them.
"Uh... OK. I wonder who."
Calvin rolled his eyes skyward.
"OK, well, what about the trumpet players?"
The tuba players stepped up.
"Please blow into your trumpet as if it was a kazoo." Klein said. "I'll be over by my desk."
Klein walked up to his desk.
The kids with the trumpets exchanged glances, and started blowing random notes into the instument.
HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!
Calvin blinked.
Then he gave Klein the signal.
A slightly raised eyebrow.
Klein sat down at his desk, and pushed a button on his desk.
Calvin grinned.
All at once there was a crack.
The trumpet players paused, and looked around.
POOF!
All at once, smoke filled the room.
Everyone shot up, and stumbled over their untied shoe lances.
Klein sat back in his chair.
Calvin rushed up to Klein, and whispered, "Thanks a bunch, I'll be taking the blame in about two minutes."
"Enjoy your band free life." Klein said.
"Don't you worry about that." Calvin said. "Now then, on to phase two of the two phase plan."
Calvin burst out of the band room, and screeched, "HELP! FIRE! HELP! MURDER! MAYDAY! MY LEG'S KILLING ME! CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT! AND HURRY FIRST CHANCE YOU GET!"
And with that, Calvin went wailing up and down the halls mimicking a siren.
"WEEEEEHOOOOO! WEEEEEHOOOOO! WEEEEEEEHOOOOOOOO! WEEEEEHOOOOO!"
Mr Spittle burst from his office, and looked around.
"I hate this job." He grumbled to himself, as Calvin went running past, flailing his arms in all directions.
Meanwhile, Mom was at home, doing some sewing, when all at once, the phone rang.
She looked up.
She looked over at the door, and saw that Calvin wasn't home yet.
"I really shouldn't answer the phone." She said.
She gulped, prepared herself, and picked the receiver up.
"I'm home!" Dad said, walking in the front door.
Mom came storming up to him.
"Dear!" She spat. "Calvin was just disqualified from band class!"
Dad stared at her.
Then he collapsed onto his knees, jabbed his fist into the air, and yelled, "YESS!"
Then his eyes popped open.
"Uh... I mean, oh no!"
He stood up.
"What happened?" He asked.
"Calvin did something to the air vents, and filled the entire band room with smoke!"
Dad blinked.
"I want you to get up there and have a talk with your son!"
"Uh... yeah, right."
Dad ran up the stairs.
Mom watched him with her arms crossed.
Dad entered the room, and found Calvin staring at him.
"Oh. Hi." He said. "Did I mention that this is International Lying Day? Everything Mom told you isn't true because of the holiday."
Dad towered over Calvin.
"Your mother just told me you were disqualified from band class. Is this true?"
"Dad!" Calvin yelled. "Where's your holiday spirit?"
Dad went nose to nose with him.
"DID YOU!" he yelled.
Calvin blinked several times.
Then, he sighed.
"OK, it's true. I was disqualified from the stupid band..."
Suddenly, Dad cut him off.
"Congratulations!" He whispered. "I would never have thought of smoke! You really did it!"
Calvin gave Dad a blank stare.
"Huh?"
"You've exited the horrors of band class, Calvin! You've made me so proud!"
"Huh?"
"I promise you'll never have to deal with it again!"
"Huh?"
"No more after school activities! You've proven you know more about escaping band class than I did!"
"Uh... thanks. I think."
Dad gave Calvin several thumbs up, and then left.
Hobbes looked up from his comic book.
"Hmm, it appears that your Dad isn't a big fan of that place."
"Yeah." Calvin said. "Would you look at that? Dad hated it, too!"
He turned to Hobbes.
"Which means, everything worked out! I'm not in trouble, and I'm not in band class! Is this great or what!"
"Sure." Hobbes shrugged. "Except, I'm still confused why your Dad doesn't like it so much. He likes everything else. Except technology."
"Who cares!" Calvin said. "Let's just close this story, before things get any better!"
"Cue." Hobbes said.
Suddenly, Dad came through the door.
"By the way, Calvin," He said. "To celebrate your disqualification, we're going on a camping for the weekend! So let's get cracking!"
Calvin stared at Dad in disbelief.
Dad closed the door.
"This is so wrong." Calvin growled. "Just end the stupid story already."
"Very well, if you insist." Hobbes said.
He reached off screen, and pulled the end card up.
The End
Voice work
Pamela Segall Adlon: Calvin
Tom Hanks: Hobbes / the kid with the kazoo
Bill Murray: Dad
Jennifer Love Hewitt: Mom
Robert Klein: Maestro Klein
Coming up next: Wild Movie