EDINA — A house party in Edina ground to a screeching halt when, entirely unprompted, local douchebag Dane Harris began playing a cello he’d brought from home. Harris, 24, reportedly spent the beginning of a friend’s informal social gathering explaining the origins of his Inca-inspired wrist tattoos, the concept of cryptocurrency, and what narcotics are best paired with what Andrei Tarkovsky films, to a group of increasingly disinterested acquaintances.
After enough sips from a red solo cup of Veuve Clicquot, however, Harris removed the offending acoustic instrument from its case covered in vintage “Romney 2012” stickers and began quietly playing to himself in a nonchalant manner.
The situation went from bad to worse when, at approximately 9:45 pm, another partygoer who wishes to remain anonymous walked by Harris and said “sounds good!” in an effort to sound polite. Seizing the moment, Harris then loudly declared “Oh this? It’s just a little something I’ve been working on.”
“I knew at that moment it was all over,” said the party’s host Anna Badtke. “This asshole was going to perform an entire concerto and there was nothing any of us could do to stop him.”
Completely oblivious to the mood of the room, Harris proceeded to play a lengthy, substandard cello solo, even as a Pop Hits Spotify playlist played concurrently from the living room’s speaker system. The dickheaded display so thoroughly deflated the energy of the party that an earlier proposal by one partier to “pull out the ping-pong table and play a few rounds of Champagne Pong” was entirely forgotten and the party resigned itself to a slow, drawn-out death.
The only respite from the grotesquely egotistical performance came when an intoxicated man wandered in from the kitchen and shouted “hey! It’s Yo Yo Ma over here!” The comment prompted an annoyed Harris to pause for several minutes and explain that Ma is “actually something like the Nickleback of cellists” and that he fancies himself more akin to “Casals but with the vibrato of a Piatigorsky and the profundity of an Offenbach”. Harris ended his speech with “anyway, here’s Cello Sonata No. 3”.
“It was the most annoying monologue I’d ever heard,” said eyewitness Chelsea Camden, “but at least it wasn’t more goddamn cello”.
Twenty-seven minutes later, Harris abruptly declared “anyway, that’s all I got” to no one in particular, solemnly put his cello back in its case while staring deeply into space as if in awe of his own talent, and stepped outside to smoke a hand-rolled cigarette. Audible sighs of relief could be heard among the few revelers that remained.
At press time, Harris had finished smoking and could be seen re-entering the living room carrying a 7 foot tall, 100 pound subcontrabass tuba.