The London Philharmonic is getting set up to play Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. Everybody's practicing their parts, except for the bass players - they barely have any notes at all, just at the very beginning and the very end. So they hatch a plan: during the performance, they'll all sneak out and go to the pub for some brews. The lead bassist ties a string to the last page of the conductor's score, to alert them so they can get back in time. Performance night rolls around, and the curtains roll up to a magnificent opening segment. The bassists duck behind the percussion and run to the nearest bar. They order a couple of drinks and joke to themselves about how ridiculous they look in tailed, double-breasted tuxedos when suddenly they are approached by a man dressed even more formally, wearing a crown and long gown. He introduces himself as the Count of Bavaria, a true regal fellow. Before they know it everybody is chatting it up and the Count orders a *huge* plate of nachos. This is a massive plate - big enough for three men - but the Count, he must be starving because he eats every last bite. The bassists are enjoying their drinks and starting to get a bit drunk, when they notice they've got to rush back... Meanwhile, back at the performance, the conductor has turned the last page. He sees the string, and it dawns on him: it's the bottom of the ninth, the bassists are loaded and the count is full.