a little crow stood next to a tall skeleton, and each of them held violins. it is unclear as to how long they had been standing there. it might’ve been months, but more likely it was many years. who’s to know–the time is not important.
the crow looked up to the skeleton, holding his violin in the air, and said, “what do i do with this thing?”
now, this was certainly not the first time the crow had asked this, because as i mentioned, they’d been there for quite some time at this point. it is possible that he could’ve asked it a thousand times–who’s to say. the skeleton continued to merrily play his own violin and paid no attention to the crow.
“skel! i am speaking to you. why do you not answer? who’s to say how many times i have asked you this question, at this point!” (ah, see? told you.)
the crow puffed its little chest, and spoke louder. “skel! please–i am just a mere crow, and i cannot play a violin! i don’t even know where to start.”
“of course you do,” said the skeleton, finally speaking up (and not ceasing to play his violin).
“jesus! you CAN speak!” cried the crow. “we have been standing here for what feels like years, and now you speak! skel! i have been asking you to tell me what to do with this thing for many, many months, to which you have said not a word. and now you speak? why now, hm? what is the difference in this day, from the others? hm?”
the skeleton continued to play his violin. “you ask the wrong questions, small crow,” he said, quite matter of factly. “it is not what you should do with it, for everyone knows what the fuck a violin is. it’s very easy to play a violin, you just take this stick with its strings, and put it to the strings on the thing. everyone knows that, and can do it, should they want to.”
the crow was annoyed. “ok. well, i don’t know how, so i suppose you are wrong! it appears that NOT everyone knows how to play a violin.”
the skeleton continued to play his violin. “tell me, dear crow, do you want to do what i am doing now?”
the crow did not understand. “what? why, that’s what i have been asking this whole time! you truly are a stupid skeleton, aren’t you? oh, i have forgot–you have no brain! you are just bone. ha ha, what a stupid skeleton you are, of course you cannot answer my question. i shall go ask another.”
the skeleton did not stop his tune. “put me down all you’d like, wee crow, but that will not teach you how to play the violin. and you surely may ask another, but you will receive a similar reply, for there is only one way to play my violin, and it is exactly as i am doing!”
the crow, annoyed as ever, replied, “why, if every reply is the same, why won’t you tell me what to do! you’re just upset that i called you stupid!”
the skeleton replied, “your words do not affect me, for they come from a place you, yourself, do not even understand. and as i told you before, i can teach you to play this violin as i am now, and will. the question is, do you want it?”
the crow cried, “yes! it’s what i want! that is precisely what i have been trying to tell you, all this time!”
the skeleton handed his violin to the crow. “here you are, then, put the stick to the strings.”
the crow scoffed at him. “why, i don’t want YOUR violin. it’s too big for me! i have my own. now–teach me how to play MY violin.”
the skeleton laughed. “that i cannot do, for that violin is your violin, not mine.”
the crow, pissed the fuck off to motherfucking hell, shrieked, “skeleton! there is no difference from my violin to yours! tell me! how to! play! my violin! SIR!”
the skeleton ignored him and began playing his own violin once again. the crow hopped onto his head. “why are you ignoring me?” he screamed.
“because you’re yelling at me, and we are going entirely in circles. tell me, crow, if you were to play your violin in any way you choose, how would you do it?” the crow thought about this.
“hm. well, i suppose, in a perfect world, i would stick the violin into the ground, securing it, and then i would take this stick and bend it so that it could hook around the violin, and i would do so, and swing around the violin on my stick, ‘round and ‘round, laughing and laughing.”
the skeleton nodded. “and then what?” the crow continued, “well, then i would take the violin and lie it flat on the ground, and begin smacking it with the stick, over and over and over, smacking it, while laughing and laughing and laughing.”
the skeleton was clapping. “what else! do go on,” he sang.
the crow was excited at this point. “then! why, then i would climb inside the little hole of the violin, and stick my head out of it, and begin singing, like this!” and the little crow climbed inside of the violin, shoving his whole body into it. once he was in, he popped his little head out, and began singing a tune. “la la la la la, hahahahaha,” he began laughing and laughing, “oh my, skele, i AM having a nice time! i do believe i enjoy playing my violin like this!”
the skeleton smiled. “that’s wonderful! it seems as though you have figured out how to play your violin, then!”
the crow was inquisitive. “but skele, no music is coming out of it. why, i am just spinning around it, and climbing inside of it, and making a fool of myself, all for my own glee!”
“so?” said the skeleton.
“so, if no music is coming out of it, am i really even playing it at all?”
the skeleton replied, “not all songs sound the same, dear crow. who’s to say a song shouldn’t sound like screeching and stomping? who is to say what a song is, at all? and how, small crow, do you expect to find any gladness at all if you are not playing your song exactly the way you choose to play it?”
the crow looked up at him, pondering this. “why skele, that makes absolutely no fucking sense at all!”
the skeleton smiled, though to be fair, he was always smiling, because he had no skin, and skeletons are literally always smiling.