You must log in to edit. If you don't have an account create one now!

From WikiStory

Several musicians begin playing on the side of the road. Noone has given them any music to play in a long time and they feel frustrated and empty. Before they commence playing they decide that if noone is going to give them anything to play, then noone would tell them what to play and they each make it up as they go along. There is unrest and unease at the arrival of the Sound. A mother, who spends exactly 15.301% of her time making life more difficult for those who know the world is already overpopulated, complains loudly at them. Constructive criticism is not evident however so the musicians happily ignore her. She gathers up around her other people who within two standard deviations of the mean also make life more difficult for those who dont feel the need to force their seed through the river. They try to forcibly remove the musicians and their instruments. A fracas ensues. The instruments are destroyed, the musicians... the musicians retreat. “We have nowhere to play, noone to play to and nothing to play!” cry the musicians “Not my problem” bellows the mother “Rot in hell!” screams a trombonist and the drummer, having procured himself a bigger and far louder drumkit launches into an ear-shattering 40-minute free-jazz solo piece. The musicians, bestowed with the education to appreciate the drummers ingenuity, watch on in amazement. The mother-led hordes begin to melt away, overloaded with awesome. Ornette Coleman watches on for the first 15 minutes but then decides he should probably finish the dishes before the sun goes down and returns home.