TwoSet Oneshots

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Note to self: Keep as draft. 

Brett picked up the wooden instrument, walking out from the backstage as he threw his full cup of bubble tea in the garbage. Seriously, could people not understand he hated bubble tea?

Again he felt the waves of nervousness rush out from him. There, at the panel, was the Viola King, the one who would determine his fate. The incredible, all-knowing judge gently patted the pet cockroach on his shoulder, which gave him a hard but sweet lovebite in response. 

"What pieces can you play?" the Viola King demanded.

"Paganini was one of the first violin rockstars."
"Have you properly rosined your bow?"
"I have used oil sir, to ensure there's no scratching noises as I play in sync with the recording," Brett promptly responded.

"Can you play this piece quickly?"
"I have played it slowly so I'm sure I'll be fine sir."

"Good, good," the Viola King scribbled on his paper. "You have passed the oral exam. Now play something for me, puppet boy."
Brett promptly raised his arms. The ropes lowered, wrapping around his arms and legs. Then the music began.

The puppeteer, Kachikawawa, guided Brett Yang effortlessly. He directed Brett's arms to play the tune of Viola Gang with his viola, giving him the occasional leg kick and twirl.

After the ropes were released, Brett held his hands nervously. "What are my ratings sir?"
"1 out of 10."
Brett was quite disappointed. "But why did I not receive a 0 sir?"
"You are lacking one thing." The Viola King swatted him on the behind, making him bend over. "Now twerk for me while playing Viola Gang backwards, puppet boy."

Again the ropes descended, wrapping around Brett's arms and legs. Kachikawawa was less skilled this time, giving his hips jerky and sudden movements. Brett jerked and jumped all over the stage, unable to stay in one spot. Then he accidentally made Brett do the splits. He tried to lift Brett back up but wasn't strong enough.

"Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!" Brett cried. He pressed the Viola Gang button on his jeans. Immediately a skilled violist ran in, playing so terribly that he jumped back up out of shock.

"That shall be enough for today," the Viola King assured.

"Are you positive my playing's poor enough to rank last place in the beginner's competition sir?"
"Yes Brett Yang."
"Thank you sir, for destroying my dreams," Brett said gratefully, exiting the room and preparing for another 69 years of no practice.