I got a big plum suit with big a** inflatable shoulder pads and I whip my thin bleached hair into my eyes with every key I press on my keyboard, just like me, because every key is chosen for this moment, each key is immensely enjoyable for everyone, not just me, and with each key press Mary Hart knows I am more famous than she ever will be.
     Kenny G. looks at me expectantly.  I nod, and he thinks he's going to get the next 36 bars just like in rehearsal.  I wink at my bass player and he winks back.  We do the key change.  We're playing in A flat now as Kenny comes in.  I hammer that chord again and again and if anyone is going to sound outside it will be Kenny.  He's trying to find it.  He gets a couple notes that work after two measures of reeking.  What are you going to do with them now, Mr. New Age?
     Ha, ha, ha.  His forhead grows even more shiny.  He's trying to pull his Sax apart at the join!  He might make it look like an accident.  Drat!  He waves the Sax around and yanks at the far end.  It won't separate-- and then-- it suddenly does.  He looks at me and grimaces, and steps back.  He's won.  The chick violin player starts to solo in his place.  Kenny holds up the two pieces of saxophone and smiles widely at the audience.  Wait.  Oh, how delicious.  Kenny G. has broken off his two.. front.. TEETH.