plaaaaay that sax.
Duckula had a good feeling about today, he really did. For once, he might strike it lucky, be famous, something. People might actually listen when he played, rather than be those uneducated philistines that ran at the thought of him singing. It wasn't like he was bad. In fact, he was FABULOUS. It's just nobody ever listened.
Well, today, they were going to listen. He spent a while fixing up microphones and speaker systems and things, all with his very own wings, and once he was satisfied, he thought he'd start off with playing his saxaphone and seeing if the people he talked to responded to the magical call of his music. So after a little fussing around, he kicked off with the saxaphone bit from Tuxedo Junction, as it was rather appropriate for his attire, and it was flawless. Not just normal good, but he hit every single note, despite his obvious lack of opposable thumbs and lips. He was spectacular.
As long as there were no corpses around, he might actually pull this off.
Well, today, they were going to listen. He spent a while fixing up microphones and speaker systems and things, all with his very own wings, and once he was satisfied, he thought he'd start off with playing his saxaphone and seeing if the people he talked to responded to the magical call of his music. So after a little fussing around, he kicked off with the saxaphone bit from Tuxedo Junction, as it was rather appropriate for his attire, and it was flawless. Not just normal good, but he hit every single note, despite his obvious lack of opposable thumbs and lips. He was spectacular.
As long as there were no corpses around, he might actually pull this off.