The Cornell Marching Band had a close call this week ahead of the first home football game of the season. Reportedly, the entire band went to Bartels Hall for a bathroom break during practice, and asked a random man who had a handlebar mustache and wore a lab coat to watch over their instruments. But when they got back, neither the instruments nor the conniving scientist were to be found!
By the time the downtrodden Big Boys in Red finally found the menacing madman, he had already smelted the instruments to create a gigantic chili cooker to use for the big game. Mamma Mia!
Just when it appeared all hope was lost, one brilliant musician decided to purchase all of the baguettes from Ithaca Bakery, and our bright, de-instrumented tomato boys quickly carved working brass and woodwind instruments. It looked like their ingenuity would pay off in time for the big game!
Unfortunately, the down-on-their-luck bandmates decided to celebrate their success by throwing a beach party, when a bunch of seagulls swept in and ate all of the instruments!
With only hours to go before the Cornell – Colgate season opener, the rowdy batch of formerly-instrumented students knew they needed to act quickly. That’s when they decided to travel to a local quarry, mine several tons of granite, and carefully sculpted new, perfectly working instruments. But, sadly, the wielders of Cornell’s most noisy appliances would only face more misfortune from there.
It turns out that while mining, several tuba players accidently uncovered an ancient evil force that had been lying dormant underground for millennia. The evil force took the form of the voice of a cultural critic, which told the terribly terrified tuba players that the film Suicide Squad is much better on a second viewing and deserves higher critical praise. This made the musicians go crazy, and they proceeded to throw their granite instruments in Cayuga Lake.
Praying for a last-minute solution, the mighty band of brothers and sisters went scuba diving for the instruments, when they thought they happened upon the lost city of Atlantis. They soon discovered it was actually Atlantis C, the active former-prison colony of Atlantis (so kinda like the Australia of Atlantis). The residents hailed Marching Band as kings for delivering instruments. This luck was short lived, as several marching band members became involved in risky property investments on the Atlantis C coastline, and crashed the real estate market – exiling them for eternity.
Our exhausted wielders of the wind returned to Schoellkopf at half-time, depressed with no instruments to show. When it looked like all was lost, the Marching Band’s crazy ex-girlfriend revealed that she had slowly been hoarding each member’s instruments, forcing them to buy the replacements which were eventually smelted down. She returned them in time for their performance, in exchange for giving her a call again.
Wow! Stories like this don’t happen every day. Our big walking, talking little noise-makers need to be more careful next time, or they’ll get in some real trouble!
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