Karri and Vyk Narrowly Avoid Death by Falling Piano

"It has happened many times in movies and television, but in real life it's pretty rare. No statistics have been gathered on this!"

- Noelle C. on chacha.com, answering the question, "How many people have died from a falling piano?" - 25 Jan 2009

* * *

There is a place where pianos fall. They connect with heads and untimely demises are met. It is not uncommon. It is sad. Like car accidents are sad. Like falling off cliffs is sad. It is generally accepted as part of the journey that is Life-to-Death. It happens. It just happens. It's one of those things.

"Look out!" shouted Karri to Vyk, while simultaneously yanking Vyk out of the way of a descending Steinway, in the middle of the otherwise empty field they had been strolling through.

The piano crashed. Bits flew. Vyk got a small splinter in her chin, but nothing more.

"Flip me!" said Vyk. "That was a close one. Thanks, Karri."

"S'arright, Vyk," said Karri. "Just be more careful next time."

"Be more careful?" said Vyk. "It came out of nowhere!"

"It was a falling piano, what do you expect?" said Karri.

"Fair do's," said Vyk.

And on they strolled.

* * *

Agent Chopin Pringlefoot of the PRA (Piano Retrieval Agency) took a large bite of his pink ring doughnut and a scalding gulp of coffee, then splurted all of the above onto the dashboard, as his in-car phone rang.

"Plargh!" said Agent Pringlefoot, retrieving the phone from its cradle and pressing it to his ear.

"FP on Purple Street," said the voice on the phone.

"FP? You disturbed my lunch for an FP?"

"Well it is your job."

"Fair do's."

So off he went.

* * *

Thirty seconds earlier, Karri and Vyk were sitting in the Purple Cafe, on Purple Street, supping purple tea.

"Why is everything purple?" said Karri.

"Maybe because we're on Purple Street," suggested Vyk.

"Good point."

"I thought so."

"Is that why yonder piano hurtling towards the middle of the street is purple?"

"No doubt."

But it was probably just a coincidence.

* * *

Agent Chopin Pringlefoot pulled up outside the Purple Cafe in his purple van (another coincidence) shortly after the purple (oh yes!) piano crashed into the middle of Purple Street. Thankfully, on this occasion, no one had been standing in the path of the piano, and so, at this time, on Purple Street, the Deaths by Falling Piano statistic did not increase. The Splinters Extracted From Various Body Parts (Human) as a Result of a Falling Piano statistic, however, increased by five.

Angle Pringlefoot got out of the van and started shoving bits of piano into the back. He was then struck by lightning and died.

Why does that always happen?! - was his final thought, as his breath left his body.

* * *

As they walked home that evening, Karri and Vyk narrowly avoided death by falling piano... again.

"What are the chances?" said Karri, as she switched on the news.

"Dunno," said Vyk, as they both flopped onto the sofa, shared a packet of blackcurrant bonbons and watched the news.

"... for Agent Chopin Pringlefoot of the PRA, who tragically met his demise by errant lightning bolt today, whilst retrieving a fallen piano on Purple Street."

"Something needs to be done," said Karri.

"Like what?"

"Well..."

"Eh?"

"Um..."

"So?"

"Dunno."

"Well then."

* * *

They munched their way through a whole packet of blackcurrant bonbons.

"What's that rumbling?" said Karri.

"What r-"

!!! CRASH !!!

* * *

"... for Karri Turnip and Vyk Branflakes, who, along with their well-proportioned 2-bed semi on Lavalamp Lane, were today smashed to smithereens by an errant meteorite, bringing the total of space debris-related deaths in Purple Town this week to five. And finally, we speak to a man who reckons an alternate universe may exist where pianos don't fall from the sky every day. Loony!"

[ fin ]