The Marching Instruments as Awkward Senior Portraits

piccolo:  the shell-shocked (couldn’t hear the photographer count down over ringing in their ears)

flutes:  the i’m-trying-too-hard

clarinets:  the pikachu

bass clarinets:  the “maybe now you’ll remember i exist, fuckers”

any of the saxophones: the sex god

trumpets:  the “hot shit”

mellophones:  the cat photo

trombones:  the i-forgot-about-senior-portraits-until-the-day-they-were-due-to-the-yearbook-so-i-had-my-friend-take-this-outside-five-minutes-ago

euphoniums/baritones/tubas:  the what-the-fuck

pit percussion:  the my-instrument-is-my-child pose

drum line:  the casually-holding-a -deadly-weapon

color guard:  the dance costume

drum major: the ruler of all things music

The Sections At 1 AM The Night Before A Competition
  • flutes/piccolos:asleep scattered across the floor of someone's bedroom wearing matching sweatpants.
  • clarinets:moodily playing pokémon
  • alto saxophones:all at walmart separately because they all think they're the ones responsible for treat bags and forgot until now. never see each other and each get like ten treat bags the next morning. confused but happy.
  • low reeds:finding more ways to hide dirty jokes on their section hoodies.
  • trumpets:practicing their "marching face" in the mirror to make it suitably focused and serious yet smoldering.
  • mellophones:trying to figure out how to attach a large sign to their instrument that says "it's a mellophone, not an exceptionally large trumpet." they are doomed to fail and the masses remain uneducated.
  • trombones:frantically trying to fix their instrument from attempting to pop to the box in their bedroom with the slide as far down as possible and slamming into the ceiling.
  • baritones/euphoniums:reflecting bitterly on all the times the tubas have upstaged them. vow to never let it happen again.
  • tubas/sousaphones:standing in front of a mirror trying to figure out precisely which angle at which to tip their beret to look the most roguish.
  • pit percussion:still loading their equipment on the band truck even though they started after school; one of them is missing for no reason.
  • drum line:performing a ritual sacrifice.
  • color guard:already doing their hair. still almost don't get done in time.
  • drum majors:practicing their salute 40,098 times, then making sure they don't "stand weird" while conducting.
Who You Should Fight: Marching Band Edition


who wins: them

don’t do it.  don’t fight the piccolo player.  just don’t.


who wins: them

they were told you were challenging them for first chair. run while you still can.


who wins: them

threaten you with their register key.  forfeit for the sake of all.


who wins: them

you are promptly deemed a “nerd” and stuffed in a band locker by the entire section even though you only wanted to fight one of them.

low reeds

who wins: no one

 you yell increasingly bad sexual innuendos at each other across the band room for twenty minutes until you both get tired and go home.


who wins: them

punches you in the face repeatedly on the offbeats of a sousa march playing in the background.


who wins: you and then them

you win the fight easily while they’re giving their villainous monologue.  entire trumpet section later jumps you in a dark hallway for disgracing one of their own.


who wins: no one

they get distracted halfway through the fight and wander off.

low brass

who wins: them

you mock them by making farting noises with your lips.  they punch you in the stomach with their abnormally strong arms.  you can’t breath properly for days.

pit percussion

who wins: you

pretend like you can’t tell the vibes, marimba, and xylophone apart.  wait until they’re blind with rage, then run them over with the closest wheeled pit equipment.


who wins: them

show up to the fight with a shank fashioned out of a broken drum stick.  proceed to kick ass.

drum major

who wins: them

calls you to attention (you can’t disobey!) and then waits until you faint from exhaustion.

color guard

who wins: them

have you ever watched one of these fuckers on the field?  you’re screwed.

band director

who wins: them

just when you think you’ve won, they get up smiling and say “one more time!”


aries: red shirt green shorts on the right thrashing flag around

taurus: person in middle lying down on floor

gemini: person on the left spinning flag while scooting around

cancer: person in back right corner who literally just throws the flag on the floor

leo: pink shorts wrapping flag around face

virgo: in the back trying to spin the purple flag really low

libra: the one on the left who does like two spins and then drops it

scorpio: the one actually spinning the flag

sagittarius: wildly doing cones in the back

capricorn: the instructor

aquarius: tie dye shirt spinning it but then dropping it

pisces: the rifle on the floor