On August 16th, 1957, a mere two days after Gus Carlson’s famous wacky mule adventure went horribly awry, a young dapper thermometer enthusiast known only as S-Pop accidentally dropped a piano from the window of an airplane. What S-Pop was doing in the airplane, where he’d gotten a piano, why the airplane had a window big enough to accommodate a piano, and how S-Pop had convinced the pilot to let him put the piano on the airplane in the first place are all mysteries that will be forever lost in the sauerkraut of time. The piano landed in the ocean directly on top of a whale, which was killed a lot by it. Embedded in the whale, the piano floated along in the ocean for days, during which time the whale was nibbled upon by various sea creatures and their friends, who were also sea creatures. Ultimately there was little left of the whale, but the piano didn’t care because it was a piano, and it probably wouldn’t have cared even if it hadn’t been a piano, which it was.

Once there wasn’t enough left of the whale to float, the piano sank to the bottom of the ocean and stayed there for years, until in 1971 an elderly British barrister named Grand Masta Pookie-Plop G caught it while goat fishing, and using his incomparably bulbous muscles, managed to haul the piano up onto his kayak. For the next seven days, Grand Masta Pookie-Plop G rowed and rowed, fighting storms, fending off piano-eating sharks (a rare breed of deep sea saltwater shark that usually starves to death for some reason,) and generally rowing his elderly British ass off. When he finally reached the shore, he pulled the piano into the nearby port town of Gargleshire with his teeth (just to prove a point) and tried to trade it for sex. Since prostitution in most of modern society had been off the barter system for decades (specifically since 1941, when a young hooker named Guntholomew Spleenstein accepted seven fur pelts and a bucket of corn in exchange for performing a moderately lewd act involving five stale biscuits and a mop,) Pookie-Plop G failed in this endeavor. Inconsolably heartbroken but incredibly cheap, he bought an inexpensive hacksaw from a nearby hardware store and spent several days using it to decapitate himself. The piano, meanwhile, was stolen by a vicious band of hopelessly nearsighted thieves who thought it was a diamond bracelet, and through a bizarre series of events was ultimately given to the Mayor of Copperslacks, Ohio as a peace offering by a guy who was really afraid of bears and was convinced that since “Mayor” kinda rhymes with “Bear” that the mayor would have some pull in the bear community. People in Copperslacks, Ohio are known for being incredibly stupid and obsessed with hopscotch.

The mayor’s young daughter, Esther Finklestein Jernockawitz-Pottyweather, was entranced by this magical piano despite its salty smell, its multitude of broken keys, its complete lack of legs, and of course its barnacles. She wrote several songs and performed them on her piano for her father, who scolded her for being such a horrible person and locked her in the bathroom for seven years. Esther, however, was undeterred, and emerged from the bathroom with reams of sheet music – a blueprint for a concept album about how much it sucks being locked in a bathroom for seven years. She spent a year arranging and recording the songs for her album, put together an orchestra, and debuted it for her father, who subsequently locked her and her entire orchestra in the bathroom for thirteen years (which ultimately inspired an even worse album idea, but that’s a story for another time, or better yet not.) The piano, in the meantime, fell into disuse because it was a piece of crap. Years later the mayor sold it at auction for $1.37, which he used to buy meat to shove under the bathroom door to feed his daughter and her orchestra.

The piano’s new owner was a young entrepreneur named Harrison Kaleidoscope Dribblesnap, who was extremely drunk at the time of the piano’s purchase. Once he regained control of his senses, he realized that not only did he have an incredibly ugly and useless piano, but he also lived in Ohio, and thus once he was moderately drunk again he attached four wheels to the piano and rode it out of the state, only to be abducted by a cult of sock-worshipers and thrown into a pit of rabid otters. The cultists tore the piano to pieces, trying to find its heart, which of course it didn’t have due to the aforementioned fact that it is a piano. They found a wad of paper which, at first glance, appeared to be the blueprint for a beautiful unrecorded musical composition, but ended up being a list of people S-Pop had intended to kill if they’d ever eyed his library card with apathy again, with illustrations by Charles Schultz. They burned this, and the piano, and some of their laundry that somehow got in the wrong pile.

Then, a little while later, or perhaps thousands of years earlier, nipples were invented.  Or inverted.  Or perhaps indicted.  Damned Swype.


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