GK: You went to St Olaf on a choir scholarship (HUM CHORD) and you enjoy choir, but you've fallen among bad companions (SS: Brent, party tonight, my place, what do you say) and the day before you leave for Thanksgiving break you get the grades from midterms (HEARTBEAT) (TR: Oh oh) You spent too much time in downtown Northfield (ROULETTE, PINBALL, BAR AMBIENCE) hanging out with lowlife friends (SS COARSE LAUGHTER), not enough time in the library. (STOPWATCH) Time is running out on your academic career. The ship is sinking. (WATER BUBBLING) The writing is on the blackboard (SFX) The dogs of academic failure are upon you (ROTTWEILER). The chaplain pays you a visit (DOOR OPENS, FOOTSTEPS)

BB: I noticed you sleeping in the chapel, Brent. I don't mind, sleep can be a form of prayer. But I think you misunderstand the nature of Lutheran education. You can't get good grades by faith alone. You have to do good work. (DOOR CLOSE)

GK: And you're dismissed from the choir.

AA: Gin is nothing a baritone should get into, Brent. Gin is not the key to Lutheran choral music. Beer now and then maybe. Not gin. I can smell it thirty feet away. The sopranos are leaving a gap in front of you. There are candles at the Christmas concert. Your breath is a fire hazard. I'm sorry. I'm taking away your robe.

GK: That same night, your girlfriend dumps you.

SS: You're going nowhere, Brent. You've got no future. You're a loser. And you've got the stupidest ringtone on campus.

TR: What? This? My baby laugh ringtone? (BABY LAUGH) I put that ringtone on because I want you to have my baby (BABY LAUGH)

SS: Don't be ridiculous (FEMALE FOOTSTEPS, DOOR CLOSE.)

GK: So you head home to face the music (JET TAKEOFF) And a woman next to you strikes up a conversation.

SS: I don't mean to bother you but I couldn't help but notice the St Olaf sweatshirt, hear you humming "Why Do the Nations So Furiously Rage Together" from Messiah and to be perfectly frank, I've always had a thing for Lutheran baritones. I'm Abigail Apple, I own 25% of Apple Corp. and I'm headed to my winter house in Palm Beach. Come, let's explore a relationship and sing a few duets.

GK: You're torn -should you go with her to a life of tropical luxury (SURF) or go visit your elderly parents in Iowa (COWS).

SS (OLD): We're so proud of you, Brent. Our son, a member of the St Olaf choir. Your dad and me, we couldn't hold a note in a gunny sack, but there you are.

GK: You go to Palm Beach with Miss Apple.

SS: I love it when put your head on my chest and hum in your manly voice. (SFX)

GK: And the plane lands (SFX) and (FOOTSTEPS) you walk down the jetway with Miss Apple--

SS: Here, carry my bag, would you?

GK: And you do and she walks a couple steps ahead of you (FOOTSTEPS) -- and she turns and says--

SS: Just wait right there. I need to talk to a friend-- Andre!


GK: And as she talks to this handsome older tanned man in the tropical suit, your phone rings (BABY LAUGH) and you answer it-----

SS: Brent it's me. Guess what? I'm in love with a tenor. We're getting married in the spring. Would you sing at the wedding?

GK: You turn and Miss Apple is gone-- disappeared with the French guy-- where's your billfold? (TR GASP), gone. You're holding her bag. (TR COP: Okay fella. Police! Gimme the bag. Sniff it, Rex. (DOG BARKS) Marijuana. You're under arrest.

GK: Wouldn't this be a good time for a piece of rhubarb pie. Nothing gets the taste of shame and humiliation out of your mouth like rhubarb pie.

But one little thing can revive a guy,
And that is a piece of rhubarb pie.
Serve it up, nice and hot,
Maybe things aren't as bad as you thought.

Mama's little baby loves rhubarb, rhubarb,
Beebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.
Mama's little baby loves rhubarb, rhubarb,
Beebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.