A Talented Musician Struggles To Make It Big [FICTOID]

Crocodile Lasagna would be his epic masterpiece, an 8 ½ hour long grand opera set in a Louisiana trout farm run by two sisters secretly in love with the same itinerant preacher.

The set covered two and a half acres, an authentic Mississippi delta bog.  The orchestra occupied a trench running the length of the set -- the challenges and complications of digging a trench that ran below the water table and needed to be pumped out constantly (and by hand, no less, sine machinery would spoil the music) would in years to come spawn a grand opera of its own (but that’s neither here nor there).

The orchestra would be huge -- no member weighed less than 300 lbs.

“I need large bodies to give my music perfect resonance,” said the composer. Idly scratching his chin with a fingernail (not his own, it should be noted).  “I need perfect round tones to anchor the emotions of my music.”

A squad of profusely sweating musicians jostled him as they passed.  He glared at them, repelled by their utter lack of couth.

“Don’t forget to play the national anthem this time!” he shouted at their backs.  “We don’t want the federal government on our case again!”

The last musician in line gave him a dismissive wave (or was it a rude gesture?  He couldn’t tell at this distance).

Grumbling under his breath, he ran down his pre-debut checklist, smiling as he ticked each item off

“Advanced ticket sales -- zero?!?!?” he gasped in horror.   “I knew I forgot something!”

© Buzz Dixon