Timpview D-Line Tryouts

Well, the long-awaited Timpview Drumline tryouts arrived. At 8:00 I was there, noxious from nervousness, anxiously waiting for my turn, hoping for a part on the snare drum. I was eventually called in, played very well, and came out confident that my snare future was secure. I spent the rest of the time sitting in the rain, avoiding the noise, comforting Holli and McKann who were still waiting their turns, and waiting for it to all be done so I could be sure I had made snare. Around 11, Liz (center snare) came out of the back room, and motioned for me to follow her back into the room. There, I was told by Dr. Fullmer that he appreciated my hard work, acknowledging that I had been "killing myself " for this part. He then proceeded to tell me I was to be on Cymbals as section leader. For those who don't know, Cymbals are my passion. My hate passion. My summer year on cymbals was a horrible experience, one that I was finally going to be done with! Then, he announced that I was to spend yet another year in the cymbal dungeon, chained with those horrible creatures that dare to call themselves percussion instruments. Cymbals. Shock quickly paralyzed me, the only thing keeping me from jumping on Dr. Fullmer with some awesome karate move, and pounding on his chest while yelling "No! No! Don't put me back in there!" I watched myself calmly tell him I would do it, and I wanted to scream at myself to stop and run away, away from those horrible crashes and chips and just run to the happy land of snare, where I would live peacefully. But no, I accepted the position and cheerfully got ready for my new position. Hours later, shock wore off and I found myself in a pit of despair, just hoping I could get away from the evil cymbal. I believe I was in the state people find themselves in after a loved one dies. First they deny it, as I did, feeling that it wasn't real. Then they have anger, which made me want to hurt DF and everyone else. Then it's acceptance, which I have reached. I accept my fate, however cruel it may be. If I die, overcome by the cymbal's grasp, bury me with a snare, so I can be a snare on the heavenly drum line. Then I'll come and haunt you all for putting me on cymbals. HAHA! There's no mercy!