Fz:
While the well disciplined ian underwood plays selected fragments from mozarts piano sonata in b-flat and we make electric noises, some members of our rocking teen combo will hop around on stage
Grotesque parody of the art of ballet dancing.
Oh you have to carry him. . . .
...you carry him!
Come on, I told everybody
Bok, bok, bickehh!
Bok, bok, bickehh!
Bok, bok, bickehh!
Boy, do I hate chickens!
Bok, bok, bickehh!
Bok, bok, snork, snork, snork
During this part of our extremely zany ballet, don preston disguised as a mad scientist will convert the unwilling motorhead sherwood into a walking zombie.
Bok, bok, (heh), bock!
Don, let him get his smock on!

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