The death Symphony (x post from /r/feghoot)

TL;DR monkey poo makes great pudding.

In the mid 1950s the New York philharmonic was one of the best Symphony Orchestras in the world. And conducting was Major Jorge Fillmore. George Fillmore was a WWII vet who loved music, and found that conducting helped him keep his PTSD at a minimum (although PTSD had yet to be understood by the medical community, let alone given a name). The flow of the notes soothed his soul and the power of conducting such a large group to produce something so beautiful reminded him of his time commanding his troops through the dangers of war.

On a cold December night, the New York Philharmonic was warming up for their Christmas performance. The upper class from all around poured into Carnegie Hall and greeted one another. Conductor Fillmore got ready in the back room and the orchestra was out on stage, behind the curtain, getting ready to play, and practicing their most difficult runs.

Then when the time came and everyone was seated, the first chair violinist came on stage to much applause. He tuned the orchestra and then out came Major George Fillmore, his coat tails flowing behind him like curtains in the brease, as he walked briskly to the podium. He turned and bowed deeply to the audience and then addressed the orchestra and motioned to start the first piece. The audience well acquainted with these pieces sat quietly, enjoying the soft notes of Mozart as they floated through the hall.

But as quickly as everyone had relaxed to the music, they were pulled from their stuppor by a loud gunshot. Then screaming. The orchestra all scrambled for the exits, trying to keep their instruments safe. As the smoke settled and everyone calmed down, they found a dead French horn player, and the smoking gun in the hand of none other than Major George Fillmore. The French horn player had flubbed a note in his solo and Major Fillmore had snapped and shot him.

Major Fillmore claimed that he thought the player was wearing something that resembled a swastika and had triggered a flash back and caused him to shoot the player. But the orchestra knew that he had been yelling at that particular horn player for several weeks when he had been unable to play the solo properly. In the following weeks, a large and publicized trial was held. Fillmore was stripped of his rank and sentenced to death by electric chair.

Following the trial, George was held in prison for several years as he tried to appeal and at least lessen his sentence but unfortunately after lots of trying, the day came that he was to be killed. As a kindness to those about to die, the prison allowed the prisoners to request anything to eat, within reason. As it was this time for George, they asked him what he would like for his last meal.

"well," said George, "I like bananas... So I guess I guess I would love a bunch of bananas."
So they brought him a bunch of bananas. And within an hour he had eaten every single banana in the bunch, and with that, he was lead to the chair. They strapped him in and connected all the leads, and after saying his final farewells, they threw the switch. The first pulse of electricity was used to kill the brain and make the victim unconscious. Then a second pulse is used to cause the internal organs to fail. However, George was barely phased by the first pulse, and then started to convulse slowly during the second phase. Then everything fell quiet.

"Was that it?" asked George.

"Umm.. That's a first." said one of the scientists that had helped develop the chair.

They decided to put George back in prison while they made a few modifications to the chair. They decided to pull more power from the grid and just pump more juice to the chair. Hopefully this would at least kill him, but it could be more painful. Once the modifications had been made, they brought George back.


The prison warden had some pity for him, so he allowed him to have a second last meal. When asked what he wanted to eat, George said that he loved the bananas he had had before, this time he would like two bunches of bananas.

Sure enough within the hour, George had eaten both bunches of bananas, and was lead right back to that chair. They strapped him in again and threw the switch. When the first pulse hit him he clearly went unconscious, and all the lights in the surrounding city block dimmed noticably. And then during the second pulse, the current and voltage was so strong that lightning covered most of his torso, arcing from the helmet to the back plate to his arm rests.

When the pulse was over, they pulled him from the chair and laid him on a gurney and they rolled him down the hallway toward the morgue. As they reached the morgue, suddenly George sat upright. He looked around and let loose a howling scream that was unlike any sound the doctors had ever heard. He then fell back to the gurney but kept breathing.

Several hours later, he woke up again and was perfectly fine. The scientists, puzzled, decided that they really needed to finish him off once and for all. They had the electricity from all the surrounding towns, re routed to the chair. There was more power going to this chair than the Las Vegas Strip. Sure that this time they would kill him, they brought him back from the hospital, and gave him what they were sure would actually be his last meal.


Again, curiously, he ordered bananas. But he ordered 3 bunches this time. And as with the last two times, he ate every single banana within an hour. They brought him in and strapped him in, and flipped the switch. This time lightning erupted from George and the chair, arcing across the room like a massive tesla coil. The man who flipped the switch, not realizing the danger, had been struck dead by the massive arcs and everyone else stood cowering in the viewing room waiting for it all to be over.

Once it was over, they carefully pulled him from the chair, his hair singed off and second and third degree burns all over his body. They carried him down to the morgue where they double checked that he was dead. But alas. His heart was still beating. The scientists, determined to find out how he had survived, asked that he be nursed back to health so that they could ask him how he had survived.

After several months, George Fillmore came out of his coma, and the scientists all gathered around and asked him,

"How did you survive the chair three times?!"

"well," said George, "I guess I'm just a bad conductor."