She: “All set for the gig this evening?”
He: “Well, the horns are cleaned and ready, the music’s in order, I have a stand …”
She: “You’re taking a stand?”
He: “Of course. Taking a stand will do me some good for once. It will let me do the show sitting up. Instead of sitting down and staring at the music on the floor.”
She: “And here I thought you were a stand-up kind of guy.”
He: “Not this time. Especially not with the head cold I brought home from our trip. Not to mention the hard blowing at last night’s performance. I hope I can play a note without sneezing – or splatting.”
She: “Well, I’ve got your costume ready. And for lunch, I’ll make you a chicken sandwich.”
He: “Um …”
She: “And then you can explain to your bandmates how come you can’t blow on the trumpet!”
He: “That would be a better excuse than the ones I’ve … Hey!! So you want them to think I’m too chicken to play?!?”
She: “You’re going to be playing the ‘Chicken Dance’ all night long, right? What’s wrong with me trying to help you look the part?”
Cluck. Cluck. Cluck.