Welcome to the Horns!

About the Horns

Enter *insert reader’s name*. Heavy rain is pouring and Reader does not have an umbrella. Reader runs towards the only refuge in sight, the Shattered Kazoo Memorial Center.

As Reader enters, Reader notices the building’s name. Reader approaches the gray-bearded information desk guy, still soaking wet.

Reader: Excuse me, sir. Why is this building named the Shattered Kazoo Memorial Center?

Wilson: (sighs and looks off into the distance) Decades ago, the kazoo was the sensation of the time. Celebrities, world leaders, grandmas and grandpas, children, everyone played kazoo. This all changed when the MOB horns began a movement that set the world of kazoo ablaze (thunder booms, lights flicker). In a dazzling demonstration of musicianship, creativity, and physical beauty that soon went viral, the horn lodged itself and grew into the hearts of those who watched. Soon, kazoos were irrelevant. They became knick-knacks, relics of the past… even tabooed and were replaced by the much more aesthetically-pleasing horn. This building is a reminder to the world that the kazoo was once a respected instrument.

Reader: (still soaking wet, but doesn’t seem to notice) Gee, mister, what a tragic story. I wish…(with sadness in eyes) I wish I could’ve lived to hear the sound of a kazoo ensemble… or even just a kazoo!

Wilson: (peering around slowly, reaches into a drawer, carefully pulls out a kazoo. Whispers:) Look, kid. Me and some buddies have been trying to bring it back, but the MOB or any band won’t play kazoo in their shows. Maybe… you could help me. Here. Take it. Master it. Share its wonder.

Reader: (awestruck, with a wide smile) Wow! Are you sure you want to give this to me?

Wilson: Yes, son. (rain stops, sun is seen through the window)Now get out of here before someone sees it.

Reader: (nods and walks towards the door. As Reader opens the door, Reader looks back at Wilson. Wilson nods at him. Reader walks to the corner of the block where a black van is waiting for him. The black van has the acronym KZU on its side. Reader casually enters vehicle and sighs. Two similarly aged men are inside. They wait for Reader to speak.) It’s a shame boys. He was a real nice d00d (tosses the kazoo to the men. They examine it, nod to each other, then stare at Reader seriously. Reader looks down at his feet.) As the leader of the Ka-Zoo Undoing squad, I give you permission to do what you need to do.

The man holding the kazoo crushes it in his fist; the other smiles devilishly. As they walk towards the Shattered Kazoo Memorial Center, the camera pans back around to Reader, who is now holding a french horn and playing Nocturno Op. 7 with the piano accompaniment playing in the background. Vehicle door mysteriously closes, but the music’s volume remain constant. Van drives away. Fade to black.

Carlos O, Horns Section Leader

Jake S, Captain Brass

 

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