I wake up as my human, Diane, opens my protective home once again. She tries to put my body back together but it won't fit. The room is loud with boys and girls hollering but my human stays quiet, focused, on putting me back together once again.
She sighs as she digs through my best friend, Billy Backpack. Finally, She pulls out a white container that looks a lot like a chapstick but it's not. It's called cork grease and helps my body stay together so that my human and I can interact. It's also pretty tasty.
Although cork grease is amazing I can't stand this room I am in. The boys are smelly and the other instruments are so obnoxious. I especially can't stand the trumpets because they're so entitled and they have egos the size of elephants. Honestly, they are just annoying in general. I could literally rant all day just about how much I dislike the trumpets, but I digress. The biggest issue I have with them is simply the fact that they have this belief that they are better than everyone else even though they aren't.
Even with how much I hate the trumpets I hate the trombones even more. Unlike the trumpets, trombones are just mean. They don't have any reason for being rude. They just enjoy treating others harshly.
My favorite instrument sections other than my fellow clarinets are known as the percussion and flutes. They're just such kind instruments. Well, at least the flutes are. The percussion has a habit of being just a tad strange. They're just so darn funny.
As my human finishes putting me together I can hear the percussion from across the room telling jokes. That's the reason they are my favorite species of instruments other than my own kind. They're funnier than any other instrument which I'm pretty sure is something that they picked up from their usually sarcastic owners.
As my human finally sits down and begins to play I notice that I have a screw loose. Even though all I want to do is help my owner the screw begins to feel pain since it's not tightened correctly. I keep trying to stay strong for her but I find out rather quickly that my body is unable to work through the pain and I begin screeching.
My screeching is quite loud and obvious, this is why my owner notices something is wrong right away. She starts fidgeting with my different pieces and begins to twist as well as turn my face. She then begins to force her face into an exasperated expression before stomping her way towards the band director. As Mr. Flor, our instructor examines me he asks Diane if she has checked my screws. She nods her head negatively and in no time Mr. Flor finally finds my loose screw and repairs me rather quickly. He returns me back to Diane and she thanks him kindly before returning to her seat.
In the end, I am so glad to have Diane as my human. There is no other sort of person I would rather belong to. There is also no other species of instrument I would rather be. If I were a trumpet I would never have been fixed. Even more, if I were a trumpet I would never be played correctly!
