Description
"Hey mom, it's 12:00 a.am. Why are you calling me?" I ask, voice raspy, sitting up in bed. "Celtic Thunder is touring again, and they are auditioning for a new background singer! They just posted it on their website. Ailey, this is your chance. They are auditioning girls in West Roxbury, and that's only a half-hour away from you." My mom says happily....Mom likes this Celtic singing group, and has wanted me to audition if the chance ever came up...She constantly stalks the website. I don't really care for Celtic thunder, but I'll audition for my mom. What harm could it do? I know my voice sucks too much to get in the group, anyway. Seven weeks later, I am stuck backstage with a bunch of immature Irish guys who are demanding that I play Swordball with them-a game using a soccer ball, and dollar store styrofoam swords. They tell me it was a gift from God that Swordball exsists, even though i can tell they made it up one day, because they were bored on the tour bus, or something. This is going to be a very long tour.
Intro
