Anastasia the Musician

Anyway, I keep imagining a glass window falls from a building and cuts my throat.

Hey Mallory, I broke your picture frame.

Oh… it… it’s okay, Anastasia.

I’m sorry, Mallory! I couldn’t stop dancing! It was an accident.

Anastasia, perhaps you could use a new creative outlet for all your energy.

Have you ever thought of playing a musical instrument?

Say, that’s not a bad idea, Abacus!

Mmm… oh, yes, Anastasia, you should play something. Zee rhythm, she is inside you.

I could be one of them, you know, fancy musicians!

Soon…

Anastasia, you could play zee harp… or zee violin, she is nice.

Oh! I like that one.

Perhaps something simpler, like a trumpet or a fife?

That’s the one I want. I want that one.

Four to six weeks later…

My goodness, Mallory! Look at me and my music machine!

Oh Anastasia, she is beautiful!

Why, I sound terrible! How come I’m not a rock star?

Hmm… may I try?

Mmm… Anastasia, you ‘ave to practice. Music, she takes time and patience, like foreplay.

Time? Patience? I don’t have those!

I wish I had musical talent like you, Mallory!

Oh Anastasia, I don’t ‘ave musical talent.

Sure you do! Even when you throw up it sounds lovely!

Mmm… um, zat’s just because whenever I do drugs, I barf music.