A. N: Due to requests, I have published the next chapter of Marco Hates the Banjo. It's about the bagpipe obviously. Enjoy!
THE BAGPIPE
After I had stopped thrashing on the floor due to my mental breakdown, I looked up at my dad with a big fake-grin on my face. That's when I saw it close up. It was even worse than I'd thought. He had a whole packet about four million inches thick with unspeakably horrific bagpipe music. I was ready to burn the bagpipe to the ground right then and there, but I knew I must wait till he least expected it before I struck.
"I see you got a new instrument," I commented,
"You bet I did!" My dad exclaimed, "I'm going to unleash this baby at the festival next week once I've practiced."
My heart skipped a beat when I heard that. All of the other Animorphs would be there. Rachel would never let me live it down. I would be utterly scarred for life. The bagpipe would have to go.
"So, dad, what songs do you have?" Why in the name of all that is holy I ever asked that forbidden question, I would never know. All I know is that I regretted it a lot.
"Well, son, I'll show you," he pulled out a piece of "music" and began playing. He played "English Folksong Fantasy", an insanely horrible piece of swill that was obviously thought up by some crazy lunatic in an insane asylum who didn't have his straightjacket on tight enough. I thought the banjo was bad until I heard this. It was so bad that there are absolutely NO WORDS to describe it in a way that makes any form of logical sense.
I couldn't tell my dad all of this, so instead I said, "Good job, Dad!"
"You really think so, Marco?" My dad asked,
"Absolutely," I answered, my voice dripping with fake sweetness, "it was awesome."
My dad then strolled away to the phone to tell Nora about this monstrosity. My dad told her all about the bagpipe and its supposed "greatness". I went to my room before his odd, bubbly excitement could consume my in my entirety. I immediately started devising amazingly convoluted schemes on how to destroy/mutilate/kill the bagpipe. None of my plans really seemed like they would work though, so I decided to sleep on it.
I had a dream that I was in Nora's math class and that she had invited my dad to play his bagpipe in front of the class. While my dad played his bagpipe, Nora took a pen and started tapping on her desk. She then looked at me and started chanting,
They're coming to take me away,
Ha-ha
They're coming to take me away,
Ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-ha,
To the funny farm,
Where life is beautiful
All the time!
"Ahhhhhhh!" I woke up in a cold sweat. Was I going insane? I cursed the bagpipe for invading my subconscious, and then I went back to sleep.
I awoke again, a few hours later, to strange voices out by the front door,
"Okay, let's get the safe in here and lay it down where the man wants it." I heard a thud and then, "He said he wants it in the bedroom, Larry, not the kitchen!"
I heard a groan as they picked the safe up again and dragged it into my dad's room,
"There you go, sir, your safe is where you requested it."
"Thanks," I heard my dad respond, "now, if you don't mind, I'm going to practice my bagpipe."
The men left and I got out of bed,
I didn't even ask about the safe. I knew it was for the bagpipe. After I destroyed the banjo, he would want to take extra precautions so his precious bagpipe stayed secure. This was going to be harder than I thought.
A few hours later, after my dad had spent all of his time off work playing the bagpipe in the garage, my dad left to go to the store.
"Keep an eye on the bagpipe, Marco," he had told me, "we don't want that thief to come back!"
I told him that I would, with my fingers crossed in my pockets. When he had left, I went to the garage to go find the bagpipe. There it was, the abomination that had caused me so much fear and pain, right in plain sight. I morphed to osprey, poking holes in the bagpipe with my tearing beak until it was flat. Once I had demorphed, I then took the bagpipe to the fireplace where I burned it into ash. I then stomped on it once it had cooled to ensure that it had been demolished in its entirety.
I decided to make it look like someone had broken in. I completely tore apart the garage, scattering everything in sight. I saw my dad pulling up so I quickly laid on the ground like I was afraid.
"Dad, dad!" I screamed, "you shouldn't have left! The thief came and told me to sit tin the corner or he'd break my PlayStation along with the bagpipe! I did what he said and then he just got in his car and snatched the bagpipe! I'm so sorry."
"No need to be sorry, son. I thought this might happen, so I went and got this for us to share." Oh, no. What now? I looked closely. It was…AN ACCORDION!!!???
I threw myself on the ground and began twitching uncontrollably. I think I had officially gone insane.
A. N: I don't own "They're Coming to Take me Away", Napoleon XIV does. I don't know who owns "English Folksong Fantasy" but it's not me. The madness will end in the next chapter, which will be about the accordion! I love reviews!