There in front of me was the girl who broke

But play them she did. She plucked at my tension. My heart strings sung when she tossed her hair. A fragrance wafted. I leaned towards her chair just as Mr.McNally asked me

what brand of phone was in my pocket. I fell off my chair yelling "Samsung!", crashed into the harpist who took an oboe to the knee as she plunged into the woodwind section, garrot

-ing the entire symphonic symbiosis. It was a domino effect and they all fell to the stage's floor, metal fold-up chairs askew. The conductor fumed from his perch, ears smoking.

The audience cheered. The conductor made quick bow to save face. The catastrophe became known as the Disaster Classic, "Brahms Stumble and Fall in D Minor."

The one legged conductor was also a drunk.

During an intermission, the one-legged conductor slid a silvery hip flask out of his pants pocket and sneaked a slurp and a swig. The booze balanced him, he'd say.

If anybody asked. Nobody ever did but he had the answer ready. Just in case. He only wished he had been that ready the day he loss his leg. It balances me at that moment: with leg,

without leg. There it was that one day when it could have mattered and I had forgotten to store away just one ready answer. As it was, I almost pulled it off when the perp asked me

Was I ready to take the final step towards sealing the fate of this story by giving it a wonderful last line? Yes I was! The smell of the pepperoni will last a thousand years! End.