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“Ain’t it a little early for practicing?”
The question was stupid. Stupider than most people could comprehend if they didn’t sit and think about it for a second. Does the bird wake up in the morning and go, I’m sure there will still be worms later? No, they don’t. The bird wakes up and starts feasting now, and it just so happens that birds are some of the most melodious creatures out there.
“Every man needs a little tuneup time to himself,” Keith emphasized his words with a sour ding on the keyboard, which wasn’t too unlike his mood towards the intrusion of a man who dared to have presented himself in the room.
“Ain’t no reason to be rude now…” but it was, because he was still here and he was still intruding and still being annoying. Honestly, why does Keith even put up with this? After everything? What could fix this predicament, if not the prosecution securing the conviction of Gregory Stuart Lake. First-Degree tomfoolery, resulting in death. Keith supposed that was the only way- he could laugh really, imagining Greg locked up in a prison cell. Got into a fight with another inmate, all his teeth knocked out. Replaced with a pair of golden dentures even- or maybe his teeth would yellow naturally.
Truly he could only suppose, because Carl had woken up and joined the session. Emerson Lake & Palmer’s practice regimen begins now. Greg Lake, unfortunately, is still a member and there isn’t much changing that.