Writing Challenge #1 - “Fed Up”
Deadline: February 3rd, 2008
Length: 1,073 (Sorry Sci, I went a little over the limit)
Inspiration: I had originally opted to do something for Ouran, but a particularly bad day at school changed that. Hence, something original and based off of embellished RL events.
Written for
sciathan_file’s writer’s workshop.
----------
Fed Up
Hey you with the blue jacket. I don’t like you.
Close the door! It’s rude to leave it wide open like that. Don’t you have any common sense in that thick head of yours? Stop talking to everyone in the hallway - your voice is grating on my nerves.
If you’re not here to practice, then get out.
That’s right, go away. I’m not what you’re looking for - go find some room with a lame upright or something. Or stay in the hallway. Or maybe, even, the bathroom. You’ll probably find more losers to hang out with and talk to over there.
Shoo, and don’t bother coming back. The longer you stick around, the more I feel like gagging.
Good riddance.
----------
As much as I appreciate how you’re not damaging my keys, you’re also wasting my time.
Don’t you have anything better to do than to fall asleep on my bench? And stop leaning against my front lid!
----------
Who the hell are you? And who told you that you had the privilege to sit in front of me? Leave me alone.
Hey, hey! No touching without permission! And since I didn’t give it, that means you shouldn’t be putting your grubby fingers all over my-
Ow, you piece of… Don’t you know that manicured nails hurt like hell? You’re going to end up scratching the wood! I hope you break something of yours before you leave.
And don’t you dare play some shit-piece while you’re here.
...
“Für Elise” - that’s the best you can come up with? You’re not even playing the real version Beethoven wrote - just some lame-ass watered-down rewrite arranged for the poor SOBs who can’t read music. I bet you didn’t even know that it’s also called “Bagatelle in A Minor”, WoO59.
Your rhythm is horrible. There are three beats in each measure - not four, so get it right! Your fingers are uneven too. Those eighth notes are supposed to be played with a steady beat; you’ve somehow managed to screw up the opening line so that it sounds like a horse’s gallop. I didn’t even know that was possible until now.
Also, you’re making my pedals hurt.
And why do you keep stopping after the first eight measures? Don’t tell me that that’s the only part of the piece you know! I’ll bet that the only part of Beethoven’s 5th that you know consists of the opening motif.
Oh, stopping already? What monstrosity will you unleash next?
...
… “Chopsticks”. Friggin’ “Chopsticks”?! Now I know that you’re friggin’ trying to purposely insult me.
What do I look like - a friggin’ electronic keyboard?
Goddamn friggin’ amateur.
----------
Hey, if you’re just going to sit there all day putting together that little twig of yours, then you might as well as have set your instrument up elsewhere. I don’t have all day, you know, and I don’t want to spend it listening to you squeak notes left and right and turning blue from the effort.
And why this room anyhow? There are a lot of other people who need it more than you do, especially since you can just about practice outside and it wouldn’t matter.
And don’t put your stupid instrument on my bench! It’s not there as a place holder, and I don’t want your disgusting spit all over the wood! Yuck.
If you’re leaving already, then at least have the courtesy of cleaning after yourself! People actually do sit on the bench after all.
----------
Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!
I don’t want to hear your fake vibrato, I don’t want to hear your horrible mispronunciations of Latin texts, I don’t want to see your terrible impersonations of famous arias, and I definitely don’t want to hear your screeching voice. And take your oily hands off of my lid!
And frankly, you should do something about that ego of yours.
Ever hear of something called ear training?
Maybe you should look into changing majors; one which, preferably, doesn’t require you to open your mouth. God knows how my frame vibrates and echoes whenever your pitch goes flat.
It’s a shame that people like you don’t come with soft pedals. Or mutes. Or “OFF” switches.
----------
Oh no, you di-n’t.
I should have you flayed alive, flogged in front of all your peers, ridiculed publicly, and burned at the stake.
You did not just drop soda all over my soundboard, did you?!
----------
Go away. I’m not in the mood to entertain fools right now.
Didn’t you hear me? I. Am. Not. In. The. Mood.
Fine. Be a stubborn ass.
Hey, what are you doing?
Put that back down, right now! No one messes with my lid! What if you break something? I’ll have you know that that is real maple you’re handling there, and I’m not light-weight. You don’t want to get crushed by something that weighs somewhere around nine-hundred pounds.
…Huh. You look like you actually know what you’re doing. Your posture’s not too bad either, compared to some of the idiots from earlier.
What are you working on?
...
Sounds like Schumann, if I recall correctly. Opus 8? Allegro? It’s a hard piece - lots of abrupt character changes and difficult passage work. I’d be surprised if you could play it all the way through.
…
Hmm. Loosen your shoulders a bit. Your fingers will get stuck in the keys if you tense up too much.
…
You missed a note there. Yeah, that measure. Don’t worry, it happens to the best of people. The weird key change doesn’t exactly make for an easy transition either.
…
Good. Bring out the melody more - let it sing. And make sure your left hand is connected smoothly. Don’t press the damper pedal too much - it makes your articulation sound lazy. Yes, just like that.
…
Hey kid. Why don’t you… oh, I don’t know - come back tomorrow? I wouldn’t mind you hanging around for a few hours or so - you’ve got good fingers. Just needs a little more practice on control, and you’d be all set to go.
You have potential, kid. Any fool can see it.
Just don’t forget to stop by sometime, okay? I’m holding you to that. It’ll probably be the only thing keeping me sane when those imbeciles show up again.
A Steinway gets a little lonely without good company every once in a while, you know?
Fin.
----------
A/N:
Yes, I realize that the tone I used for this piece doesn’t exactly fit most people’s images of pianos. But this is coming from a music major, and most of the atrocities actually happen in the practice rooms from time to time. I decided that this Steinway just saw a few too many of them, and was fed up. I’d be offended too if people kept mistreating me that way.
On a random note, I have the hardest times coming up with titles. I was trying to come up with something witty or punny, but I gave up after a while and settled for less.
Also, I hope I didn't totally fail the challenge. :0 Or end up confusing people with the scene/people changes.
~ Ika
Length: 1,073 (Sorry Sci, I went a little over the limit)
Inspiration: I had originally opted to do something for Ouran, but a particularly bad day at school changed that. Hence, something original and based off of embellished RL events.
Written for
sciathan_file’s writer’s workshop.
----------
Fed Up
Hey you with the blue jacket. I don’t like you.
Close the door! It’s rude to leave it wide open like that. Don’t you have any common sense in that thick head of yours? Stop talking to everyone in the hallway - your voice is grating on my nerves.
If you’re not here to practice, then get out.
That’s right, go away. I’m not what you’re looking for - go find some room with a lame upright or something. Or stay in the hallway. Or maybe, even, the bathroom. You’ll probably find more losers to hang out with and talk to over there.
Shoo, and don’t bother coming back. The longer you stick around, the more I feel like gagging.
Good riddance.
----------
As much as I appreciate how you’re not damaging my keys, you’re also wasting my time.
Don’t you have anything better to do than to fall asleep on my bench? And stop leaning against my front lid!
----------
Who the hell are you? And who told you that you had the privilege to sit in front of me? Leave me alone.
Hey, hey! No touching without permission! And since I didn’t give it, that means you shouldn’t be putting your grubby fingers all over my-
Ow, you piece of… Don’t you know that manicured nails hurt like hell? You’re going to end up scratching the wood! I hope you break something of yours before you leave.
And don’t you dare play some shit-piece while you’re here.
...
“Für Elise” - that’s the best you can come up with? You’re not even playing the real version Beethoven wrote - just some lame-ass watered-down rewrite arranged for the poor SOBs who can’t read music. I bet you didn’t even know that it’s also called “Bagatelle in A Minor”, WoO59.
Your rhythm is horrible. There are three beats in each measure - not four, so get it right! Your fingers are uneven too. Those eighth notes are supposed to be played with a steady beat; you’ve somehow managed to screw up the opening line so that it sounds like a horse’s gallop. I didn’t even know that was possible until now.
Also, you’re making my pedals hurt.
And why do you keep stopping after the first eight measures? Don’t tell me that that’s the only part of the piece you know! I’ll bet that the only part of Beethoven’s 5th that you know consists of the opening motif.
Oh, stopping already? What monstrosity will you unleash next?
...
… “Chopsticks”. Friggin’ “Chopsticks”?! Now I know that you’re friggin’ trying to purposely insult me.
What do I look like - a friggin’ electronic keyboard?
Goddamn friggin’ amateur.
----------
Hey, if you’re just going to sit there all day putting together that little twig of yours, then you might as well as have set your instrument up elsewhere. I don’t have all day, you know, and I don’t want to spend it listening to you squeak notes left and right and turning blue from the effort.
And why this room anyhow? There are a lot of other people who need it more than you do, especially since you can just about practice outside and it wouldn’t matter.
And don’t put your stupid instrument on my bench! It’s not there as a place holder, and I don’t want your disgusting spit all over the wood! Yuck.
If you’re leaving already, then at least have the courtesy of cleaning after yourself! People actually do sit on the bench after all.
----------
Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!
I don’t want to hear your fake vibrato, I don’t want to hear your horrible mispronunciations of Latin texts, I don’t want to see your terrible impersonations of famous arias, and I definitely don’t want to hear your screeching voice. And take your oily hands off of my lid!
And frankly, you should do something about that ego of yours.
Ever hear of something called ear training?
Maybe you should look into changing majors; one which, preferably, doesn’t require you to open your mouth. God knows how my frame vibrates and echoes whenever your pitch goes flat.
It’s a shame that people like you don’t come with soft pedals. Or mutes. Or “OFF” switches.
----------
Oh no, you di-n’t.
I should have you flayed alive, flogged in front of all your peers, ridiculed publicly, and burned at the stake.
You did not just drop soda all over my soundboard, did you?!
----------
Go away. I’m not in the mood to entertain fools right now.
Didn’t you hear me? I. Am. Not. In. The. Mood.
Fine. Be a stubborn ass.
Hey, what are you doing?
Put that back down, right now! No one messes with my lid! What if you break something? I’ll have you know that that is real maple you’re handling there, and I’m not light-weight. You don’t want to get crushed by something that weighs somewhere around nine-hundred pounds.
…Huh. You look like you actually know what you’re doing. Your posture’s not too bad either, compared to some of the idiots from earlier.
What are you working on?
...
Sounds like Schumann, if I recall correctly. Opus 8? Allegro? It’s a hard piece - lots of abrupt character changes and difficult passage work. I’d be surprised if you could play it all the way through.
…
Hmm. Loosen your shoulders a bit. Your fingers will get stuck in the keys if you tense up too much.
…
You missed a note there. Yeah, that measure. Don’t worry, it happens to the best of people. The weird key change doesn’t exactly make for an easy transition either.
…
Good. Bring out the melody more - let it sing. And make sure your left hand is connected smoothly. Don’t press the damper pedal too much - it makes your articulation sound lazy. Yes, just like that.
…
Hey kid. Why don’t you… oh, I don’t know - come back tomorrow? I wouldn’t mind you hanging around for a few hours or so - you’ve got good fingers. Just needs a little more practice on control, and you’d be all set to go.
You have potential, kid. Any fool can see it.
Just don’t forget to stop by sometime, okay? I’m holding you to that. It’ll probably be the only thing keeping me sane when those imbeciles show up again.
A Steinway gets a little lonely without good company every once in a while, you know?
Fin.
----------
A/N:
Yes, I realize that the tone I used for this piece doesn’t exactly fit most people’s images of pianos. But this is coming from a music major, and most of the atrocities actually happen in the practice rooms from time to time. I decided that this Steinway just saw a few too many of them, and was fed up. I’d be offended too if people kept mistreating me that way.
On a random note, I have the hardest times coming up with titles. I was trying to come up with something witty or punny, but I gave up after a while and settled for less.
Also, I hope I didn't totally fail the challenge. :0 Or end up confusing people with the scene/people changes.
~ Ika