The Badass Bass Line
Hometown: Arizona, AZMajor/Year: Monkey Business, 2025
Instrument: Bass
In a world not too different from our own, a virus swept across the planet, wiping out most of humanity. Those who survived were left to rebuild society in a world now dominated by apes.
Among the survivors was a drummer named Dom. Before the virus, Dom was a struggling musician, playing in dive bars and dreaming of making it big. But now, in this new world, his drumming skills were highly sought after.
Dom found himself playing for the apes, who had taken over the remnants of human society. The apes had a fascination with music and had built their own instruments, but they lacked the rhythmic finesse that Dom had honed over years of practice.
But not all the apes were friendly towards Dom. There were factions among them who viewed humans as inferior beings, fit only to serve the apes. Dom soon found himself caught up in a power struggle between the different ape factions, as they vied for control over the remaining humans.
Dom realized that he had a unique position in this world. His drumming skills could be used as a tool for peace or for war. In the end, Dom chose to use his music as a means of bringing the different ape factions together. He played for them, using his drumming to bridge the gap between the apes and humans. Slowly but surely, the two sides began to understand each other better, and Dom found himself at the center of a new era of understanding.
Hometown: Old NavyMajor/Year: Fashion Design, 2025
Instrument: Bass
(Verse 1)
In a world of solid hues, I stand out in the crowd,
Wrapped in patterns bold and loud, my style, oh so proud.
A canvas of colors, a symphony of design,
My collared shirt, a statement, a fashion paradigm.
(Chorus)
Patterned collared shirts, tell a tale untold,
Stripes and checks, a story to unfold.
In threads of expression, I find my delight,
Wearing patterns, turning heads left and right.
(Verse 2)
Checkered memories, like the squares upon my chest,
Polka dots of joy, a wardrobe's very best.
Floral fantasies, blooming with each step,
In a world of patterns, I find my fashion rep.
(Bridge)
Stitching together moments, in a fabric of time,
Patterns intertwined, a rhythm so sublime.
From plaid to paisley, a kaleidoscope of grace,
In my patterned shirt, I find my unique space.
(Outro)
So here I stand, in patterns well-worn,
A symphony of style, in each shirt adorned.
In the tapestry of fashion, where my story flirts,
I'll keep on rocking these patterned collared shirts.
Hometown: Washington DCMajor/Year: Seattle should have run the ball, 2025
Instrument: Bass
Previously Known As: "If I Use My Other Hand, It Doesn't Count", "“Bacon: Best Sloppy Seconds" "
Lock: "OK Guys, Huddle up! Alright, we're running Houston Right, 356 Fuzzy
Bottom Fakey Right on 2 on 2.”
Penny: "Wait Drew, what do I do?"
Lock: "Houston, Raashad. Houston is Hitch"
Penny: "Ohhhhhhhhh....what's a hitch?"
Lock: "Just run 5 yards and turn around."
Penny: "I can do that."
Lock: "Ok on 2 on....."
DK: "Just give me the damn ball, vanilla shake."
Lock: "No, and stop calling me that. It's play action."
Fant: "But I don't waaanna block!"
Lock: "Oh for...you're not blocking Noah! You're going to act like you are then go right"
Fant: "Act like I'm blocking....I can do that!"
Lock: "Ok, everyone got it? On...."
WHISTLE
Ref: "Delay of game, Number 2"
Jamal Adams: "That ain't good man, you got us a penalty"
Lock: "Thanks I got thi.....Jamal get back on the sideline, we're on offense. Ok, for f#cks sake. How about this, everyone just run around until you get open? That work? OK, Break!"
LOCK SACKED FOR 5 YARD LOSS
Lock digs the grass out of his face mask and walks back to the huddle
Lock: "What the F#CK was that, O-line?"
O-line: "You said to act like we're blocking, boss."
Lock: "I told NOAH to act like he was going to block."
Penny: "Just gimme the damn ball."
Lock: "No, it's 3rd and long. Ok, everyone. Salem Right, Y Drizzle Left, Z Snuggle."
Penny: "What do I do?"
Lock: "You know what? I don't f#cking care, Raashad."
Fant: "Just some good ole' backyard football, eh Drew?"
Lock: "Shut the f#ck up, Noah."
Hometown: Drome Corner Couch, NYMajor/Year: Lollipops (concentration in blue raz), 2026
Instrument: Bass
Previously Known As: "Civilized Part of New Jersey"
Today when I walked into my CS class I saw something I dread every time I close my eyes. Someone had brought their new gaming laptop to class. The forklift he used to bring it was still running idle at the back. I started sweating as I sat down and gazed over at the 700lb beast that was his laptop. He had already reinforced his desk with steel support beams and was in the process of finding an outlet for a power cable thicker than a tree. I start shaking. I keep telling myself I'm going to be alright and that there's nothing to worry about. He somehow finds a f#cking outlet. Tears are running down my cheeks as I send my last texts to my family saying I love them. The teacher starts the lecture, and the student turns his laptop on. The colored lights on his RGB Backlit keyboard flare to life like a nuclear flash, and a deep humming fills my ears and shakes my very soul. The entire city power grid goes dark. The classroom begins to shake as the massive fans begin to spin. In mere seconds my world has gone from vibrant life, to a dark, earth shattering void where my body is getting torn apart by the 150 mph gale force winds and the 500 decibel groan of the cooling fans. As my body finally surrenders, I weep, as my school and my city go under. I f#cking hate gaming laptops.
Hometown: SkyzoneMajor/Year: Parkour, 2027
Instrument: Bass
Noah Lee, the unsuspecting bass drum virtuoso of the Big Red Marching Band, embarked on his usual journey to rehearsal, a perpetual rhythm in his step. Little did he know that today's practice would add a peculiar twist to his musical adventure.
As Noah strolled towards the band room, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was a bit off. Upon arriving to the band center, Noah found himself in a linguistic conundrum. In a plot twist worthy of a sitcom, he discovered that he could only communicate with his drumline companions in fluent Korean. English? Forgotten. Spanish? No hablo. It was as if his brain had decided to hit the language switch button at the most inconvenient moment.
Noah scratched his head, wondering if he had accidentally stumbled into a parallel universe where the lingua franca was Korean drum cadences. The rest of the drumline exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion mirroring Noah's own. Initially bewildered, the drumline soon caught on to the beat of Noah's linguistic escapade. Laughter echoed through the band room as Noah's unintentional language switch turned rehearsal into a lively cultural exchange.
Just when Noah thought his day couldn't get any stranger, Patrick yelled out “Hey Drumline, what time is it?” As the rest of the drumline yelled out “10:24”, Noah felt a linguistic shift back to English. It was as if the 10:24 had cast a magical spell, breaking the Korean drumming spell that had possessed him throughout rehearsal. Blinking in surprise, he found himself once again able to communicate with the rest of the band. Noah, with a bemused smile, shrugged off the strange occurrence and joined in the laughter. And so, with drumsticks in hand and the memory of his inadvertent language switch, Noah Lee marched on, ready to face whatever musical mysteries awaited the Big Red Marching Band.