There's a young bass player who's new to the orchestra, and he's very anxious to do things right, make a good impression, etc. So the night of the big concert (Beethoven's Ninth) when the first chair calls a huddle, our young hero's all ears. "Okay, boys, you all know the drill, but I'm filling in our newest member here. During the middle movements, there's almost nothing to do. In fact, we've got about 50 measures of rest. So we nip out the back of the hall and across the street to the pub for a quick round. You with us?" The youngster nods enthusiastically, and then it's time to start. The first movement and a half go well, and then the basses all put down their instruments and slip out the back. The pub is warm and welcoming, and the first round is great. Our boy is ready to walk out when the second chair calls for a second round. Our fellow is nervous, but anxious to fit in, so he downs the second. He's collecting his jacket when there's a call for a third round. He taps his neighbor on the shoulder -- "Hey, shouldn't we get back?" The guy responds, "Relax, man, it's under control." Our fellow is starting to get seriously bent out of shape however, and collars the first chair as the man's about to order round four. "Sir, no offense, but shouldn't we get back?" The first looks at him and explains, "Look, we've got this all figured out. We almost always make it back in time. If not, we've got a contingency plan. We've taken the maistro's score and sewed the pages together just before our entrance. That way, he'll reach the page turn and won't be able to. So he'll slow the tempo as he tries to get it figured out. We're cool. . ." Well, they finish round four, and slosh their way back across the street into the hall. Sure enough, they're late. . . The conductor's got sweat pouring down his face; he's an absolute wreck. And can you blame him? After all, it's the bottom of the Ninth, the score is tied and the basses are loaded!