Tension in the bar

The equipment is set up in the lounge. The place is packed. Horn players are roaming the room like sharks.

Drummers and bassists are also present. They are safe from attack, but their time is limited.

Because, sooner or later, a pianist will walk in. The critical mass will be achieved. The sharks will descend upon him, some forcing him onto the bandstand while other pull trumpets from cases and altos from gig bags.

Then one will utter the words of doom that will trap the rhythm section for the evening:

"'Don't Get Around Much Anymore,'" key of 'C,' sax has the pickups, one, two, three, four, one."