Basil Woodall sat at the overly large desk in the quiet of her isolated and dimly lit cabin. A large nearly blank page was set out in front of her. She stared at it, all the while holding her pencil between her fingers and anxiously tapping the eraser end on the desktop.
This score would be her biggest yet, but it would take careful planning and hours of practice. A plan of this magnitude would have many key players and each must have their timing perfected down to the very second if they were to pull it off.
The payoff would be huge, well worth the risk if they were successful. They would be, she would see to it, her plans always worked, that’s why they called her the mastermind.
An idea crossed her mind. She smiled to her self and began to write the final page, a stave for the euphonium.
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