1)He stood there, selfish, long, but not too long. Silver as a 50 cent piece and worth as much. Sandy hadn't known him for long, but she new he was the one, the one she could call friend, the one she would use to play her drums.
"I've got to have that one." she said to the clerk.
"This one right here?" He said, pointing towards big silver.
"That's the one." she replied.
2)Roddy had only been on this earth a short time but he knew he had found the perfect mate for his drum hitting obsession. He couldn't wait until they arrived home and she slid him into her soft hands and then ever so slowly built up a rhythm for the band. They would make beautiful music together, Roddy and Sandy forever.
When they arrived home the band had already set up, Sandy, ready to go as always quickly unsheathed Roddy and slid him into her right hand. The left hand picking up another piece of wood which looked strangely familiar to him.
"1...2...1.2.3.4!" she screamed as the band broke into an incredible melody of sound and resonance.
Roddy was elated with joy as she smacked him into the tom, then into the cymbal, oh how he loved the feeling of that cymbal, cold and hard.
"Keep going!" he yelled in his mind; "If only I had a voice, I too could sing like an angel."
After the song, strangely enough the band called it a night. They all left and it was then only Sandy and Roddy there. She looked at him with hungry eyes, then she did the one thing that he was waiting for all night; a monstrous drum solo. He went left and right, all around, the cymbal over and over, he was in drumstick heaven; And then he broke.
The sheer agony of it all, the snap of his spine, the non-chalant toss into the garbage, being left there in pain for days until the darkness came.
That was the end of it all, he couldn't take it anymore. He looked up, and then, on his last breath gave his final words:
"I love you.....Sandy."