The SILLY Squad

Pam the Piano

Pam wasn't manufactured. She arrived. Legend says she just appeared one morning in SillyGoofyLand's town square, already demanding royalties. No one ordered her, no one wanted her. Yet she's still here, glaring with 88 teeth and daring you to press the wrong one.

The only instrument with a tax ID number, she doesn't wait to be played. Pam plays herself, violently, at unpredictable times. It's midnight o'clock? Concerto. Dentist's office? Rhapsody. Your great-grandmother's funeral? Dubstep remix. Last week she smashed her own lid shut so hard it registered on the Richter scale.

Her grudges are legendary. She hates accordians ("digusting breathing furniture"), she has extreme beef with church bells ("lazy upside-down spoons"), and she once tried to fight a marching band by rolling downhill into their parade. Locals still talk about "The C-Minor Incident," which left 47 confused ducks wandering downtown.

Pam the Piano does not make music, she declares war through sound. If you ignore her, she will play Chopsticks until your will to live collapses.