Oliver the oboist had practiced his section of the piece countless times. He was completely prepared for the recital. What he wasn't prepared for was the horde of zombies infesting the town the next day.
Oliver rolled out of bed, excited for the big day. He dressed in his performance attire, polished his oboe pieces, ate a hearty brunch, then left for the show. When he realized zombies had overrun the town, though, he rolled his eyes.
"Of course," he thought. Well, he was already on the way to the concert hall, so he figured there was no sense in changing plans at the moment. Maybe this was just an inconvenience.
When Oliver arrived at the concert hall, his suspicions were confirmed. This was at most an emergency, but inconvenient as it was, there was still an audience, and the majority of his orchestra was present for the show.
Victor the violinist greeted him with his normal small talk.
"Crazy zombies out there today, huh Oliver?" Forcing a smile, Oliver concurred, then joined his woodwind family. Doesn't that guy have anything more interesting to talk about?
By the time the conductor led the orchestra out to the auditorium, several of the members had grown careless and been bitten by zombies. Oliver had to beat his way through several of them to his seat, ruining the good polish he gave his instrument earlier.
Since the timpanis were in the back, and they had the most club-like sticks, they were put on guard between beats. This, along with their booming, served the orchestra well, and there were no attacks during the show.
When the show ended, they received a standing ovation, which was curiously more groany than usual. When Oliver left, the inconvenience seemed to have subsided, so he returned home, changed out of his clothes, and cleaned his oboe once again. After a good shower, he went to bed, exhausted from this bizarre day.
No comments:
Post a Comment