OK, let me try to rephrase that. Come back when you’re prepared not to take this thread (or yourself) so seriously.
…or when you learn to play something. Whichever comes first.
Cat Fight! Cat Fight!
Which, coincidentally, must be what two fiddles, a mandolin and a banjo must sound like.
A P-bass? A P-bass? Dude, I have a Rickenbacker 4001 here which, considering its heft, could take your head off if swung correctly! >>THWACK!!<<
You know how flute and clarinet players can park in handicapped parking spaces?
They just put their instrument on the dash.
heehee
:: ducks and runs ::
Those viola players are off suffering identity crisises because they can never remember what the name of their instrument is. Is it veye-O-la? vee-O-la? VEE-o-la? How about “I play the ‘I really wanted to play the violin but I suck so bad I couldn’t even make last chair, so they stuck me in the back’ instrument”?
(Once someone tells me it’s a brawl, I’m in till I’m the only one standing.)
Am I the only trumpet in here? Ay caramba. How do you get two flutes to play in tune? Shoot one.
:Takes guitar and smashes it over Olentzero’s head:
:WOW, still in tune!:
Awright, LET’S GET IT ON!!!
Olentzero, since you started this whole thing way back in the conductor thread, I’m going for you first. Take that, string boy!
::whacks Olent across the chops with a rawhide chime mallet::
Keep the damn tempo! Oh, and I play piano, too, to after I’m through rearranging your face with my drumsticks, I’m gonna throttle your pencil neck with my arpeggio-strengthened fingers.
::rolls a Keith Moon riff off Olentzero’s skull::
PERCUSSIOOOOOOOON!!!
::turns to Ukelele Ike::
You’re next, horn boy! You’ll have a double reed for a lower lip by the time I get through with you!
{deftly slips into a 1920-vintage BBb Conn Sousaphone}
Come at me, pal! Show me what you got!
{ducks gracefully, glancing the huge brass bell off DAVE’s skull with a satisfying BONG while he’s still well over an arm’s length away, then briskly swings into the bass part of “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.” }
Playing Iron Butterfly on a brass instrument! Heretic!
::pelts Ike with finger cymbals and Latin percussion instruments::
Trombonist. For seven looong years I played that thing. I think it’s the reason why I’m clinically depressed. It’s also probably the reason why I’ve been told I am (ahem) really good with my lips.
:::Persephone whips out her Recording Olds, snags Ike’s ankle, jerks him on to his fanny:::
Oh yeah, I’m married to a lead guitar player.
:::glares evilly at all the guitar players in the house:::
You wanna piece o’ me? Huh? C’mon! I live with this crap day in & day out! My kids are inheriting the music gene! My life is a musical nightmare!
:::grabs guitar closest to hand & starts to swing at Dave:::
Whoops. Not the '35 Martin.
:::looks for another guitar, finds husband’s Tele copy, brains Dave:::
Wow! I feel sooooo much better!
::rubs knot on head where Persephone conked him::
It’s because I ate the last wing in the other thread isn’t it? Sorry. Damn, that hurt.
::wings a Zildian 18" crash cymbal like a Frisbee at Persephone::
Catch this, slide wench!
::placing bell of susaphone over missbunny’s head::
::plays very loud::
::smashes upright grand with spare tuba::
:::leaps & catches cymbal in mid-air, chews it up:::
Ptui! I forgot how much I hate the taste of brass!
:::quickly lassoos Dave with a tied together set of Dean Markleys:::
Hahaha! Now I torture you with my lack of talent!
:::begins puffing worst-ever version of “Michael Row the Boat Ashore” on a Huang C-harp:::
sneaks into room, and jabs Myrr with her violin bow
Owww, quit it!
::plays low B-flat very loudly while flailing arms about it vaugue attempt at self-defence::
::plays grating, banshee-shriek-like note she learned while onstage::
Cover your ears, Myrr, before they POP! BUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
::struggles to free himself from Persephone’s Markley’s::
Must…get…snare…
::manages to roll the snare drum into his arms::
Eat Ludwigs, you tone-deaf harpy!
::smashes snare drum over Persephone’s head, making her look like she’s wearing a Shakespeare ruffled collar::
Help me, somebody, the Dean Markleys are cutting off the circulation to my hi-hat foot!
::covers ears, and moves on up to an F, for variety’s sake::
Fortunately, I don’t need my hands to play these notes…
::chases Audrey with bell of susaphone blaring::
ha HA! Fear my wrath! (or at least don’t stab me again…please?)