Almost Ready - v19 - Miniature Tupperware Disaster
[Full-length version] [Epic solo] [Gentle, organic, classic rock] [Surf rock elements] [Spoken word] [Autumnal drizzle on tin roof] [Deep, reedy Bass Bassoon tone] [Tiny, frantic, melodic butterfly chirps] [Deep, sustained Sasquatch growl] [Magnificent, virtuosic, reverb-heavy electric guitar solo] [Complex, perfect drum counterpoint] [Lyrical and emotional mood] [Beautiful sonnet]
Almost Ready - v19 - Miniature Tupperware Disaster
[Full-length version] [Epic solo] [Gentle, organic, classic rock] [Surf rock elements] [Spoken word] [Autumnal drizzle on tin roof] [Deep, reedy Bass Bassoon tone] [Tiny, frantic, melodic butterfly chirps] [Deep, sustained Sasquatch growl] [Magnificent, virtuosic, reverb-heavy electric guitar solo] [Complex, perfect drum counterpoint] [Lyrical and emotional mood] [Beautiful sonnet]
Lyrics
The gentle, rhythmic autumnal drizzle continues on the tin roof. The slow, sweeping, melancholic electric guitar from the previous epic ballad remains in the air as a deep, reverberating tone. A new, strange, low-register sound enters: a reedy, rich tone that sounds like a cross between a cello and a bassoon.
NARRATOR:
A slight clearing of the throat.
Okay, so we’ve established the chaos remains, but let’s get the cast right. The Drummer's name is Shea. And, Biff, I see you’ve joined us with the "Bass Bassoon" of your own creation. Sounds... robust.
The Bass Bassoon (Biff) lets out a long, low, slightly comical bwaaah sound that momentarily clashes with the electric guitar tone.
SHEA (DRUMMER):
Starts a quiet, almost hesitant snare tap, then stops.
You know, I once played a gig in— [He pauses, leaning in.] —a really famous band. Like, worldwide famous. We toured. We had the pyro—
Suddenly, a high-pitched, insistent chorus of tiny, melodic chirping fills the air, sounding simultaneously beautiful and worried.
BUTTERFLIES:
The collective chirping sounds like small, frantic bells.
Snacks! Snacks! Tiny snacks! Tupperware!
FLORENCE:
Calmly
The butterflies brought snacks, but they are incredibly tiny. They want their Tupperware back, Sasquatch. So don't eat them.
SASQUATCH:
A deep, rumbling, sustained Growl that vibrates the air, followed by a series of low, warning notes on his electric guitar.
The Butterflies immediately fall silent, scattering their chirps to the distant corners of the soundscape. The remaining band members fall utterly silent.
SHEA (DRUMMER):
Whispering, but still over the continuous soundscape.
...Never mind. I was just about to tell you about the band’s infamous European tour, but...
He is interrupted by a truly magnificent sound. A second electric guitar—clean, with massive reverb and sustain—launches into an epic, lyrical solo. It is complex, virtuosic, and emotionally devastating, weaving a perfect, crystalline melody that stops all other noise.
NARRATOR:
Mallory. Florence’s visiting cousin from Vermont.
JULIE:
Sighing in admiration
A beautiful sonnet.
The solo continues, building in intensity and grace for a sustained two minutes, a perfect Mallory Epic Solo. It speaks of cold mountains, warm feelings, and the quiet dignity of a well-played chord. As the solo reaches its peak, Shea (The Drummer) can no longer resist. He jumps in, adding a perfect, complex, rhythmic counterpoint to the solo, seamlessly joining the performance and entirely forgetting his previous thought about the famous band. Biff’s Bass Bassoon underpins the whole thing with a grounded, soulful rumble.