This One Time at Band Camp

Prologue

12/24/07

...-...

In life, there are certain unarguable facts. For instance:

A) The sky is blue. (Actually, the scientist in Zexion would argue that. Truly, the sky has not actual color to it. It is only the blue wave lengths that have been absorbed into the atmosphere that make it seem as such.)

B) The grass is green. (Again, Zexion had to argue this. Living in Arizona, the only grass he had ever seen was, if not dead, yellow and soon-to-be dead.)

C) School administration is comprised completely of idiots. (Zexion agreed completely with this. In fact, the scientist in Zexion was willing to hypothesize that there was a direct correlation between fucktardedness- for lack of a better term- and an individual's need to apply for a position in the school administration of Midtown Area High School. He'd even provide graphs to support his findings.)

This is exactly why, three weeks before the start of his freshmen year, Zexion receives his schedule. All seems well- an advanced lit course, an advanced science course, a lunch in between- the usual. Except for the very last slot under 9th Period. Marching Band.

Zexion blinks and checks the name on envelope- yes, it's his. He checks the name on the top of the schedule- also his. He frowns. He calls the school. A woman with a nasally voice answers, and tells him that all schedule changes were to be made four weeks before the beginning of the school year. She tells him it's not her fault (which, actually, it is) that he only just received his schedule now, and that as a student of the band, he is required to attend band camp next week. Then she breaks the connection before Zexion can so much as ask what the hell band camp was.

Just then a small slip of paper flutters out of the envelope.

Attention All Band Students:

We will be meeting on the football field at 8:00 starting August 13th.

Please bring your instrument and a bottle of water.

Zexion arches an eyebrow. Apparently he is required to join this whole "Band" thing and suffer through it. Not participating will lover his grade average, and he can't have that, because Notre Dame just won't accept 3.9 GPAs.

Oh, and an instrument.

Well, drums, of course. All that involves is hitting a pair of sticks off a flat surface, and honestly, how hard could that be?