Two musicians, a drummer and a guitar player, are onstage, each equipped with his instrument.  They’re wearing extreme punk garb and have British accents.  A plainly-dressed guitarist enters.


Nick:  Hey, guys, I’m Nick.  I’m here for the audition.

Guitar player (GP):   Nick.  That’s a wanker name.

Drummer (D):  Yeah.  You a wanker, Nick?

Nick:  Whoa, no.

D:  He looks like a poseur, don’t he?

GP:  Yeah.  You a poseur, Nick?

Nick:  I’m just here to audition.  Is this a country band?  The ad said country.

GP:  Do we look like bumpkins, Nick?

D:  Yeah. Do we look like bumpkins?

Nick:  Look, if this isn’t a country band and you’re just going to be insulting, I’m leaving.  (He starts to go.)

GP:  Hang on, mate.  You seem a bit agitated.

D:  Yeah.  Pissed off at the world.

Nick:  Well, you’re starting to get on my nerves.

GP:  Good.  We want you nice and riled.

D:  Raging against everything.

Nick:  I don’t get it.

GP:  You see, Nick, we ARE a country band.  With a…


They snarl and hiss at Nick.

Nick:  You mean like cowpunk?

GP:  Cowpunk. (He spits on the floor)

D:  Don’t be a git, Nick.

Nick:  Look, I don’t know what this is all about, but I’m here, so let’s just jam, okay?  You know “Your Cheatin’ Heart”?

GP and D:  Sure.

They launch into a twangy version of the song.  GP and D are headbanging, jumping around, etc.  Nick just sighs and rolls his eyes.