Michael Bean:
My beautiful, wrecked, piano!
Edwin Milton:
Does that mean you won't be able to finish composing the music for the play?
Michael Bean:
Real composers don't require pianos, it is all in the mind.
Edwin Milton:
Best place for it.
Michael Bean:
Never wanted my music, have you?
Edwin Milton:
Well, Tchaikovsky would have done me, if I'd had that music at all. Personally...
Michael Bean:
Out with it, what's your objection? Come on, let's have all of it, come on let's have it!
Edwin Milton:
Alright it's already my herculian task to coax anything like audability from these children, if, in addition, I have to cope with an orchestra that makes a lullaby sound the climax to 1812.
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