Mia, the singer stood on stage, dramatically holding her guitar.
βAlright,β she whispered to it, βletβs not embarrass ourselves tonight.β
The guitar replied, βExcuse me? We? I carried you through the last three gigs.β
Mia blinked. βDid, did you just talk?β
βYes,β the guitar sighed. βAnd for the record, those lyrics you wrote? βMy love is like a noodle, soft but confusingβ? Absolutely not.β
Mia gasped. βThat line is ART.β
βItβs pasta,β the guitar shot back. βAnd itβs overcooked.β
The audience stared as Mia argued with her instrument.
βFine,β she muttered. βWhat do you suggest?β
The guitar cleared its nonexistent throat. βHow about, βMy heart beats loud like a drumβ?β
Mia: βThatβs basic!β
Guitar: βItβs better than comparing your ex to expired milk.β
Mia: βThat was emotional!β
Guitar: βThat was dairy slander.β
Mia strummed angrily. The guitar deliberately went out of tune.
βStop being dramatic!β Mia said.
βI learned from you,β the guitar replied.
At that point, the drummer leaned over and whispered, βShould we call someone?β
Mia took a deep breath, leaned into the mic, and announced,
βLadies and gentlemen, my guitar is quitting the band.β
The guitar yelled, βIβM GOING SOLO!β
And honestly? The audience gave it a standing ovation. πΈπ
If youβre going to argue with your guitar, at least make sure it canβt talk back. Creativity is messy, dramatic, and sometimes ridiculous, but thatβs what makes it entertaining. πΈππ€£