Twink…kle…twink…kle….litt…tle…..star…….. how SHIT!!!!!

The erroneous note sounds worse than usual, a more hollow and forced sound now that there is a sizable hole in the top of the sleek, black, baby grand piano. The hole came as a result of Cyrax’s tantrum after botching his rendition of Mary Had A Little Lamb. The splintered hole gave each note and odd, flat tone that the crowd found displeasing. 

No one wanted to give Cyrax piano lessons, which only fueled his already mounting frustration. Yet he continued to try. The pointer finger on his right hand was forming blisters, a testament to the hours he had been sitting at the piano practicing. He jabbed at the keys, some of which were now missing. Groans could be heard from throughout the lounge. Beads of sweat were forming on Cyrax’s brow. Yet he continued to try. Maybe that is the lesson here. Never stop trying

Twink-kle….. Twink-kle…. lit-tle…. star….. howSHIT!!!!!

In a rage he kicks the seat from under him and storms to the bar. He grabs one of the stools and returns to the baby grand and angrily smashes the bar stool into the piano in fury

Wally walked into the bar.  He wasn't sure if he should drink or tickle the ivories.  He remembered what his tusks were made of and decided that was a little dark.  Drinking it was.

Wally decided that he would enjoy a good rum.  He ordered it, and sat down in a booth away from the exicitement and let the soothing music wash over him.

He thought it was a really nice place.

Cyrax walks back into the piano bar with a hammer, a piece of plywood, and a handful of nails. He hammers the plywood into the top of the baby grand to repair the gaping hole he kicked into it. He was disappointed with himself, not only for botching his performance yet again, but for letting his frustration get the best of him. Once the piano is repaired, Cyrax takes a seat at the piano and goes over his song in his head. The crowd looks on at him, arms crossed and annoyed that Cyrax would be manning the piano yet again, which will most likely ruin their evening.
 

But Cyrax remains undeterred despite the hostile aura the patrons are feeding him. He has been practicing and was determined to put on a decent performance for the patrons. He extends his pointer finger and begins to jab at the keys, reciting the words aloud with each key he strikes

Row… row… row… your… boat….gently………………… down………. the……. stream………………………. mer-ri-ly, mer-ri-ly, mer-ri-ly, mer-ri-ly……. life……. is….. but……. a……..

Cyrax shuts his eyes tightly. This next note could make or break him, if not his career, his spirit. In that moment he thought of his mother, ruler in hand, belt in the other, beating him with both. Perhaps it was these anxieties that were holding him back. Perhaps it was time to stop living in the past and to free himself from the shackles of his childhood traumas. The audience sits with baited breath as they await the final note to the song

…… DREAM

He nailed it. He even pressed down on the pedal with his foot to give the final not a thunderous, triumphant sound. The crowd is on their feet cheering and applauding. Cyrax’s eyes well with tears. He stands up and looks out at the audience as they gave him the ovation of a lifetime

Thank you all, good evening and remember… never give up

Cyrax bows once again to the deafening roar of the audience and leaves the piano bar