“Good morning, worthy gentlemen and ladies. I’ve brought my quartet. Where shall we set up?”
“Is that a Stradivarius in your violin case?”
“Why, yes. I only recently acquired it.”
“Hmmmf! Strads are for solicitors, bloodletters, and nobility with more money than sense! They have no character.’
“And what do you play, if I may ask?”
“I (ahem) play a Tomb Classic light relic from the Battista Doneda Custom Shop. See, it even has holes from wood worms, smells like it has spent months with a decomposing corpse who loved it so much he was buried with it, and then was peed on by its second owner’s cat. That, my good man, is artistry!”
“Do you play out with it at royal events and such? I haven’t seen you at them for some reason.”
“God, no! I’m strictly a potato cellar player.”
“Is that a Stradivarius in your violin case?”
“Why, yes. I only recently acquired it.”
“Hmmmf! Strads are for solicitors, bloodletters, and nobility with more money than sense! They have no character.’
“And what do you play, if I may ask?”
“I (ahem) play a Tomb Classic light relic from the Battista Doneda Custom Shop. See, it even has holes from wood worms, smells like it has spent months with a decomposing corpse who loved it so much he was buried with it, and then was peed on by its second owner’s cat. That, my good man, is artistry!”
“Do you play out with it at royal events and such? I haven’t seen you at them for some reason.”
“God, no! I’m strictly a potato cellar player.”
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