Wicked

She was cackling and waving her arms at us. I widened my eyes in shock, but couldn't look away. It was like watching a train wreck, not that I had any desire to see a train wreck. That would be awful. And sad. Well, this was almost as bad. This girl might even leave a few dead bodies in her wake if she didn't stop soon.

The cackling became wailing that crescendoed into a climax of off-key screeching. I cringed and tried not to cover my ears. That would be rude. 

My eyes began to water as I held in my laughter. I could feel my date shaking. He was laughing, too. I glanced over at him and he looked at me.

"I can't take much more of this," he whispered.

"Me either, but we can't just walk out."

"As soon as this song ends?"

I nodded and prayed for silence. The music stopped and everyone applauded their appreciation, probably for the ending of the song, rather than the performance.

We jumped up and ran out of the auditorium.

"Oh. My. Gawd," I exaggerated. "That was the worst interpretation of Wicked I have ever seen!"

"And heard!"

We laughed all the way to the coffee shop. I had a craving for pumpkin pie.
--

I swear this had nothing to do with the fact I went to choir rehearsal tonight. I just had music on my mind.