It was a muggy day in Los Angeles. A film score fan was not the one to step outside in such dreadful weather. Instead, he decided to listen to some tunes. He ventured into his large soundtrack vault and stood dead center of the darkened, windowless vault. On each wall were shelves up to the ceiling, each filled with hundreds of titles. He stared at the shelves for hours, hoping one title would pop out and demand a personal audience. Not a single disc called out to him; the silence pounded like a timpani in his skull.
Or perhaps it was timpani he heard after all? He rushed over to the nearest score featuring the instrument, John Barry's Zulu. He picked it off the shelf and examined the case. The disc was still there. The drums has stopped. Moments passed like a Lion in Winter, with nary a timpani to be heard. Zulu was the Wrong Box. The man slid the jewel case back into its slot on the wall as the drumming began again. With the sound of drums in The Deep and the Mercury Rising, the fan continued his search. He would solve this Enigma, he told himself, even if it took him Until September to do so. He continued to Walkabout the L-Shaped Room, destined to Never Let Go of The Chase.
The percussive Vibes traveled up, down and Once Around the poor fan's spine, making a Deep Impact on his psyche. Suddenly, the fan had a Brainstorm. The drums must be from James Horner's Jumanji. He purchased that score while on vacation in A Far Off Place with fellow Volunteers. He rushed to the Horner aisle in the vault to pull The Forgotten score Up From the Depths of his collection. Unfortunately, Jumanji was not the source of the heavy pounding. “Heaven Help Us” the poor fan shouted as Testament to his despair.
Seconds later, the Runaway drums appeared, like Magic. Once again The Lonely Guy's mind was Under Fire. The pounding Leviathan from the recesses of his score collection drove him to The Edge of insanity. He continued The Pursuit of The Shadow of The Vanishing drums. The sonic Poltergeist led him to his Jerry Goldsmith collection, where once again The Haunting sounds ceased.
He Wanted to find the source of the drums. Instinct and Pure Luck led the poor fan to the Forbidden Zone of his collection, Danny Elfman. “Anywhere but Here”, he told himself as he strolled down the Notorious aisle. How could A Simple Plan as listening to a CD over a glass of warm Milk turn into a Mission: Impossible? He would need to take Extreme Measures to stop the drums from driving him Psycho.
“Catch Me If You Can!” thundered the drums to the fan. Like Heartbeeps, the drums murmured on, leading the crazed fan, like a fish on a Hook, through the CD vault. He stopped Midway between the Rosewood door and the Movie Images wall when the drums knocked him off his feet. What once seemed Far and Away was now beating him into the ground, an Earthquake-sized force. He knew that his calls for help would go unanswered; he was Home Alone. The beast of a noise had him in its Jaws. He would have to be as strong as Superman to get out of the John Williams section alive.
Although he was between The Rock and a hard place, he knew all he needed was The Power of One to set him free. Something's Gotta Give, and it was not going to be him. The Fan dashed to the only section he knew would drown out the drumming, the section where Angels and Demons dwell. He would break The Pledge to never enter The Ring, if only to stop the Black Rain of noise. “I'll Do Anything”, he convinced himself as he entered the dark circle. It had been more than Nine Months since he stepped foot in cold Zimmer country. The Chill Factor in that corner of the vault was incredibly high.
Nevertheless, he grabbed the first CD within reach and threw it into the nearby surround system. He punched it to the highest volume and waited for sonic salvation. Moments passed and nothing happened to quell the onslaught of percussion. He looked at the stereo, which had shut down and refused to turn on again. The poor sap had tried to draw too much power from the circuits and has thus blown all the Transformers.