At least I get to be famous either way

Tonight is our concert!
Among other things, we'll be playing a composition I wrote.

I foresee two possible outcomes:

1. All the right notes, always in tune, always on time. Standing ovation. Cash being thrown at the stage. Movie deals and phone calls from Hollywood. Dinner invitations from Johnny Depp. CD recording deals from whoever does that sort of thing. Fame ensues.

2. After the oboes miss their cues for the 145,368th time and come in late (and flat), with the cello missing its pizzicato note at the very end of the 2nd movement again, and the tubas missing their high notes in the 3rd movement, and the bass drum again failing to properly play something as simple as a series of dry quarter notes and rests, Janna's brain explodes and she stumbles off the stage into the front row of seats, falling into the arms of some unfortunate guy named Reginald, who is not all that crazy about being covered in exploding brains. Pictures show up in the newspaper on Saturday, and fame ensues (posthumously).
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I'll do my best to keep you posted.
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