Story 604: What Really Goes On At The Back Of An Orchestra

           (In a large concert hall, orchestra members take their positions at music stands stationed throughout a stage behind closed curtains, as the audience members file in to take their seats on the other side)

Percussionist 1: (Rushes in from stage right, clutching sheet music tightly and squeezing around timpani, xylophones, bass drums, tubular bells, snare drums, and a table full of tambourines and other handheld instruments) Excuse me – pardon me – excuse me – (Almost knocks a triangle off the table) so sorry – (Stops on seeing a group of three musicians, seated in a circle on the floor between a set of large cymbals and a gong, playing cards; all three had stopped and have been staring at Percussionist 1) Hello.

Percussionist 2: (Wearing a green visor) Hi.  You the replacement percussionist for tonight?

Percussionist 1: Oh yes, I was called in just this afternoon – (Steps forward and sticks out a hand for Percussionist 2 to shake, then quickly snatches it back when no reciprocating hand appears) I was told there was a last-minute call-out, and could I fill in at the concert tonight, so of course I immediately cancelled the wisdom tooth removal I was supposed to have done late today and came right over!

Percussionist 2: Hm, yeah, appreciate it.  You play?

Percussionist 1: Oh, um, yes, pretty much everything here – (Wave arms to encompass the array of instruments at the back of the orchestra) except not so much those – (Points to the tubular bells) but I can figure them out if –

Percussionist 2: I meant poker.  (Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 hold up their cards to demonstrate)

Percussionist 1: Oh!  No.  Sorry.

Percussionist 2: Then have a seat.  (Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 scooch along the floor to make a space in the circle) You’d better learn fast, else this’ll be a long night.

Percussionist 1: (Hesitatingly walks over, sets down the sheet music, and sits in the new space)) Ohhhh-kaaaay, but shouldn’t I really be taking this time to practice the music for tonight?

(Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 stare blankly at Percussionist 1)

Percussionist 2: A little late for that now, isn’t it?

Percussionist 1: Well, yes, but I was called in last-minute –

Percussionist 2: So you said.

Percussionist 3: Wouldn’t want the audience coming in to hear a bunch of ruckus going on behind the curtains, would you?

Percussionist 4: I sure wouldn’t.

Percussionist 1: No, but I just got the music now and would have to go in cold, so to speak.

Percussionist 2: (Leans in toward Percussionist 1) This your first real professional orchestral performance?

Percussionist 1: (Laughs nervously) Is it that obvious?

Percussionists 2, 3, and 4: Yes.

Percussionist 1: Oh.  Well, I’ve played in every school concert ever, and while I wasn’t the first – or second – or third choice for this, my instructor felt I’ve had enough experience to step in as a back-up for tonight.

Percussionist 3: You’re a student?!

Percussionist 1: …Wassss that not mentioned earlier?

Percussionist 4: And not even top of your class?

Percussionist 1: (Looks down, embarrassed) No.  Just the only one available on such short notice.

(Percussionists 2, 3, and 4 look at each other, then back at Percussionist 1)

Percussionist 2: I think you’ll do nicely. 

Percussionist 1: (Looks up suddenly) Huh?

Percussionist 3: All you need to do is hit things back here, and everyone out there loves it.

Percussionist 4: And if you mess up, they’ll never know, and what’s anybody gonna do about it, huh?

Percussionists 2, 3, and 4: NOTHIN’!  (They high five each other)

Percussionist 1: (Deals in Percussionist 1) Now, pay attention to the cards and forget the sheet music…. 

TWENTY MINUTES LATER 

(Conductor emerges from backstage)

Conductor: (To the chatting orchestra members) At the ready, everyone!  We’re on in a minute!  (Exits to prepare for the official entrance)

(The orchestra members straighten up in their positions and focus on their instruments and music as the audience outside applauds the entrance of the evening’s host)

Percussionist 2: (Takes the cards from the others as all four stand; whispering) Whelp, that’s our cue.

Percussionist 1: (Whispering while scrambling to stand) What, this is it?!  I’m nowhere near ready!

Percussionist 3: (Whispering) Kid, no one ever is.  (Lightly slaps Percussionist 1 on the shoulder and takes position at the multiple xylophones)

Percussionist 2: (Whispering to Percussionist 1 while moving the latter to the gong) For this piece, just hit the gong when the conductor points to you.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) That’s it?!

Percussionist 2: (Whispering while taking position near all the drums) Oh yeah, it’s only about two or three times, no sweat.

(A muffled voice is heard from the other side of the curtains, introducing the orchestra and program for the night)

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) Well which is it, two or three?!

Percussionist 2: (Whispering while taking off the visor and tossing it away somewhere) I dunno, check the sheet music.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering while head zips from side-to-side looking all around the floor) Where did it go?!

Percussionist 4: (Whispers to Percussionist 1 from the tubular bells) Don’t even worry about it – it’s not as if the conductor’s gonna stop the entire performance cold and yell at you for missing your cue or anything.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) Oh no?!  I’ve seen it happen!

Percussionist 4: (Whispering) Oh wow, that must’ve been really awkward.

Percussionist 1: (Panicked whispering) That’s putting it mildly!

Percussionist 2: (Casually leaning on the timpani while handing over the found sheet music and whispering to Percussionist 1) Relax, you’ve got this – just don’t mess up and you’ll be fine.

Percussionist 1: [Strangled cry]

Percussionist 2: (Whispering) Or mess up – no one really cares that much.

Percussionist 1: [Gulps]

Euphonium Player: (Seated in front of the percussion section, turns around and loudly whispers) Could you all knock it off!  Show’s gonna begin in about five seconds!

Percussionist 2: (Loudly whispering) Oh please, everyone out there is barely aware your instrument even exists.

Euphonium Player: (Loudly whispering) You’d all miss me if I was gone!  (Turns back around in a huff)

(Curtains are drawn back as the audience applauds again and Conductor enters from stage right, smiling and bowling, then takes place at the podium, signals for most of the orchestra members to tune up, then raises and lowers arms to begin the concert.  Several minutes into the first piece, a flask is unobtrusively passed from Percussionist 4 to Percussionist 2, who both temporarily hide behind the tubular bells to take a swig; Percussionist 2 then holds it below the audience’s sight line toward Percussionist 1, whose eyes widen in shock at Percussionist 2)

Percussionist 2: (Sets down the flask and signs below the sight line between drumbeats) M – I – L – K – S – H – A – K – E

Percussionist 1: (Signing below the sight line) G – E – R – M – S

Percussionist 2: (During a pause in beats) S – U – I – T – Y – O – U – R – S – E – L – F  (Picks up the flask again and gestures that Percussionist 1 should pass it to Percussionist 3; Percussionist  1 does so, holding the flask low with two fingers in distaste as Percussionist 3 snatches it between xylophone beats)

(Conductor points grandly to Percussionist 1, who mightily swings a mallet at the gong)

Percussionist 2: (Signing after the gong stops reverberating) G – O – O – D – J – O – B

Percussionist 1: (Whole body still shaking from the blow, gives a trembling, low thumbs-up) 

FORTY MINUTES LATER 

(Percussionist 1 now is stationed at the table with the smaller instruments, holding the triangle and beater and straining to read the sheet music as the entire orchestra plays in triple time, when suddenly there is a split-second lull)

Transistor Radio: (Plugged into Percussionist 2’s ear with the volume raised to maximum) Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded –

Percussionist 1: Huh?  (Looks toward Percussionist 2)

Percussionist 2: (Rapidly beating the snare drums, tosses off a quick) Ssh!  (in Percussionist 1’s direction)

Percussionist 1: (Flabbergasted, turns back to the sheet music; suddenly looks up in a panic and sees Conductor impatiently signaling that the triangle should be hit) Whoops.  (Excessively triangles, more than there were notes, but the rest of the orchestra continues without missing a beat)

Percussionist 2: (Whispering to Percussionist 1 as Percussionist 3 crashes all the cymbals) Nice recovery, but don’t overdo it.

Percussionist 1: (Whispering back) It was you – !

Transistor Radio: Out!  And the game is over!

Percussionist 2: (Drowned out by angrily drumming) Un – freaking – believable!

Percussionist 1: [Sigh] (Sees Conductor signaling again and this time restrainedly triangles; once that is done, looks over and sees Percussionist 4 holding out a plate with a cake slice in one hand while striking the tubular bells with the other; Percussionist 1 slightly shakes head at Percussionist 4, who shrugs and slightly ducks down to take a bite) [Heavier Sigh] 

GRAND FINALE 

(Percussionists 1, 2, 3, and 4 rush from one instrument to the next to hit all of them at the proper times; at one point, Percussionist 1 and Percussionist 3 collide but the latter smoothly moves the former aside and both continue on their way; the orchestra concludes the piece with a cacophonous flourish, and the audience gives a standing ovation.  Conductor bows, gestures for the orchestra members to bow as well, and then exits stage right with no further interaction with anyone as the curtains close)

Percussionist 1: (Collapses onto the floor, still holding a mallet, as the rest of the orchestra members pack up and leave; to Percussionists 2, 3, and 4) I have never felt so stressed in all my life.

Percussionist 2: (Standing over Percussionist 1 with Percussionist 3 and Percussionist 4; all three are snacking on potato chips) You did great, kid – we’ll make a percussionist out of you yet.  (Turns briefly towards a DING! from nearby)  Sounds like the chocolate’s done – wanna stick around for fondue?

Percussionist 1: …Yeah, all right.

Story 254: Why Is There a Soundtrack?

            The radiant sunset surrounded the couple with shades of red, purple, and pink as the two strolled through the cozy park, hand-in-hand.  The moment when he was going to pop the question was fast approaching: he knew it, she knew it, the dog walkers knew it.  The violins swelled in anticipation as he suddenly stopped, grabbing both her hands in his.

            “Beloved?” he opened.

            “Yes, my angel?” she replied; several stirring flutes got in on the action.

          “We have known each other for so long – ” the violins became more agitated – “I simply cannot face the rest of my life without you by my side – ” an expectant drumroll began, with cymbals winding up for the climax – “and what on Earth is that orchestra doing here?!”

          “Oh them,” she lightly laughed.  “They follow me on special occasions: they’re the soundtrack to my life.”  The cymbals finally crashed.  “Not yet, guys – maybe start again when we kiss to seal the deal?” she asked; the music abruptly cut off.  To her angel, she smiled: “You were saying?”

            “Ummmm….”

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

            The two spies snuck through the darkened warehouse and spoke to each other in whispers.

            “I’ll take the left, you take the right,” Spy 1 said.

            “Why do I always have to take the right?” Spy 2 almost whined.

            “Because right now I’m on the left, right?”

            “What?”

            A menacing bass line began.

            “So, you go that way,” Spy 1 gestured with a gun, “and I’ll go this way.  Ri – OK?”

            “Wait a minute, what’s that noise?”

            A synthesizer ratcheted up the thrill factor.

            “It’s underscoring the danger of our actions, now c’mon!”  Spy 1 gestured with the gun again.

          “Not so fast,” Spy 2 said, head tilting to listen.  “I know those chords.  This is the Villain Theme playing right now.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            “That’s the music played every time the villain shows up.”

            “Which makes perfect sense because that’s the reason why we’re here!  To catch the villain!”

           “Yes… or….”  Spy 2 pointed a gun at Spy 1.  “Perhaps the True Villain has been beside me ALL ALONG.”

            <DUN-DUN-DUUUUUUUN!>

            Spy 1 pointed the gun at Spy 2.  “Now you’re just being stupid and tiresome.  <Gasp> Maybe this music’s playing because you’ve been the True Villain ALL ALONG!”

            “Nonsense – I’m not the villain.”

            “Ha!  Prove it!”

            “I’d know it if I was, wouldn’t I.”

            “You make a good point.”

            The True Villain jumped out from behind a pillar, accompanied by a crescendo.

         “Aha, you fools!”  The Villain laughed evilly.  “The music was signaling my approach, and now I have the drop on both of you!”

            “Blast,” Spy 1 said as the two raised their hands in surrender.  “We sure misread those cues.”

            “Yes, I must say they were deliberately confusing to the casual listener,” Spy 2 agreed.

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

            In the haunted house, the reckless teenagers paused on the third floor to regroup; they spoke with flashlights shining up on their faces due to the requisite power outage during the obligatory thunderstorm.

            “I say we head to the basement and wait it out there,” Teen 1 said.

           “I say we head to the attic, solve the mystery, and set the angry ghost’s soul to rest,” Teen 2 said.

            “I say we head to the front door and walk out of it,” Teen 3 said.

            “Hold up a sec!” Teen 4 hysterically shouted.

            “What?  We were having a nice rational discussion up until now,” Teen 1 said.

         Teen 4 looked around in terror before screechily whispering: “Where’s our supporting music?!”

            The others pondered this.

            “You’re right, it’s been suspiciously not playing for ages,” Teen 2 said.

            “That means when it does play, it’ll be a doozy,” Teen 1 agreed.

           “I’m going to climb down this drainpipe here,” Teen 3 said, opening a window.  “You’re all welcome to join me whenever you’d like.”

            The other three froze in place.

            “Should we run for it?” Teen 4 asked.

            “Maybe if we never move ever again from this spot, the ghost’ll forget about us and leave us alone,” Teen 2 said.

            “Or we could – ” Teen 1 started but was cut off by jump-scare music, which was followed by the jump scare of the tangible ghost getting in their faces.

            With everyone screaming, the music was no longer necessary.

            From outside the house, Teen 3 jumped onto the ground from the drainpipe, ran to the car, got inside, and started it.  The horror music quietly began to swell.

            Teen 3 turned to face the music: “Don’t even think about it.”

            The music stopped as Teen 3 drove off into the night.

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

            In an office, Manager approached Employee.

            “So,” Manager said, “we’ve got a huge project coming up, with lots of ways it can go wrong.”

            “All right,” Employee said, then pressed a button on a CD player; light-hearted music played through the speakers.

            “What are you doing?” Manager asked.

        “Scoring our new adventure,” Employee said.  “Judging by your statement, I trust that shenanigans will ensue?”

            “Not really – this is a very serious project for one of our top clients.  If it doesn’t go right, we could be – ” Manager leaned in slightly to whisper – “F-I-R-E-D.”

            “All right.”  Employee pressed a few different buttons; serious-sounding music then played.  “So this situation is dramatic, then.”

            “Well, yeah!  And I even feel a little uncomfortable taking it on, to tell you the truth; this is the client who is a bit – ” whispered again – “S-H-A-D-Y.”

            “Got ya.”  Employee hit several more buttons; hints of mystery and danger were signified by the presence of a bassoon.  “How’s this one?”

            “Perfect.”