The narrator speaks, “The scene is a concert hall in lower Manhattan; but all the seats are empty. The stage is crowded with animals of every shape and kind. They seem to be excited, nervous, and growing impatient. While listening to their mumbles, I distinctly heard the word audition. Heavy footsteps were heard approaching from offstage, the curtain parted and there stood Maestro Doolittle! He was resplendent in white tie and tails, a monocle in his right eye, and a baton under his arm. Every animal eye followed his approach to the podium; they sat frozen in their positions around him. Taking his time, he sternly gazed at each animal in turn.”
The Maestro spoke “Hey guys, wassup? Everythings cool; are you ready to make some music?” The animals heaved a collective sigh of relief. They said to themselves, “Who is dis dude?” The dude responded, “I’m Dr. Doolittle, and I can talk to the animals, you know, cats like you. You can call me Maestro, because I’m here to form the world’s first animal band!! I’m gonna turn you bunch of flea bags into musicians. I promised my agent Sid, that you would be ready in two weeks. We gotta command performance at Constitution Hall; it’s a tribute to the carrier pigeons of World War II. So gatha round and listen up. I’ll give everyone a chance, but you gotta do it my way. Are we cool?”
“We gonna audition the brass section first; lemme hear you one at a time. Okay, key of F sharp. Hit it, Moose! Mmmm, your gritty monotone is just a shade away from awful. Next, okay rhino, give it your best shot. Mmmm, while that was earsplitting, you came out just a tad short of yodeling. Go catch a smoke; we try it again later. Elephant? I know you can trumpet; you’re in the band. Go unpack your trunk. Where are my lead singers? I need screamers! Okay, peacocks and vultures; Wow! Go down to make up and get your feathers preened. Now we gonna work on the barker section. You’re up, Fido, plus two seals; lemme hear some major barkin’ in the key of M sharp. Holy moly! You just blew me away!”
The afternoon wore on. The Maestro persevered; turning this misfit collection of fur and feathers into symphony level performers. He discovered the harmony of blending a snort, a bleat, and a quack to produce a zoological treasure of sound. Some animals were complaining about their talent being ignored. With a wave of his hand, the Maestro called for peace and order, and in a language they could all understand, he explained the situation. “I’m hearin’ a lotta squeakin’ and groanin’ out there. That aint cool. I want you bats to stop eatin’ the bees; I need their buzz as background to the badger’s growl! I only have two soloists so far; the walrus moanin’ and the pigeons cooin’. So shape up, and listen up! Stop actin’ like a bunch of animals!!”
The Maestro surveyed his crew; obtained their undivided attention, and spoke, “Here’s how it’s goin’ down. The rooster will open the show with his trademark, Cocka doodle do, followed by the symphony doin’ its thing for two hours. The finale consists of six deer bellowing the 1812 overture! It’s magic time!! Now, here’s the down and dirty. Those of you who didn’t make the cut could become docents at the Dulles Air and Space Museum, or man the concessions booths at FedEx Field. I’ll be busy fieldin’ offers from Pixar, Netflix, and on and on. I’ll never forget this wonderful experience!!”
Sid, pull the car around. Now!!