“Oh my God, we’re almost there!” Erin cries excitedly.  She jumps up and down excitedly.  “I can’t believe it!  We can finally play our gig!”

            “Uh, well, technically, we still can’t.  Not really,” Dave says.  “No drums, bass, or electric guitar.  Everything’s locked in the van right now.”

            They all approach a sign attached to a tree.  There is a large arrow next to it pointing upward.  “Welcome to Picnic Topple-Tree,” it says broadly.  Next to the sign there is a rope.

            They all look up into the trees.  “Um, I don’t see it, guys,” Jeremy says as helpfully as he can.

            Amy shrugs.  “It’s gotta be up there somewhere.”

            “Why do you say that?”  Dave asks.

            “The sign says so,” Amy replies.

            The rest of them nod.  Ian mumbles.  “Oh, sure.  Pull the rope,” Dave shrugs.  “What else is there to do, right?”

            A loud door bell rings when the rope is pulled.  A door opens in the leaves of a nearby tree.  “Hello?”  a gruff Canadian voice calls.

            “Uh, hi,” Erin says.  “We’re The Way Back.  We’re here to play the Festival Dedicated to Preserving the Arts in New England.”

            The man grins.  “Great!  We’ve been expecting you, eh?  Come on up!”

            “How the $#&% do we do that?” Kristi asks.

            The man slaps himself in the forehead.  “Mon Dieu!  My mistake.  The elevator is that way!”

            Another tree swings open, revealing a large cargo elevator.  They all step inside and ride the escalator for quite a distance.  Finally, it stops and they all step out.  They look around.

            Picnic Topple-Tree consists of trees, Jeb’s Foot paste factory, a stage, a sinister looking laboratory, and lots of people just hanging out.  They all stare at the group in fascination.  Dave shouts out suddenly:  “My van!”

            Dave’s big yellow van is parked next to Jeb’s.  He rushes to it and hugs the side of it.  “I was so worried about you!”

            “Dave!” Erin snaps.  “You’re embarrassing me…”

            “How’d the van get here?” Amy asks.

            A large man wearing a top hat walks out of the foot paste factory.  He walks over to the band.  “Howdy there.  Welcome to Picnic Topple-Tree, Vermont.  My name’s Jeb.  Jeb Foot paste.  I founded this town as a suburb of Canada about a month ago and was looking for local talent to play at our benefit to preserve the arts in New England.  Well, that and to let people know there’s a town called Picnic Topple-Tree.  Maybe people’ll move here after this concert, eh?”

            “Wait, you’ve heard of us?” Dave asks.

            “Nah,” Jeb replies.  “Little guy about ankle high recommended you pretty highly.  Said that he’d handle the invitations and all.  We just had to wait for you to show up.”

            Ian mumbles excitedly.  “No, Ian.  I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a Furby, $#&!”  Kristi rolls her eyes.

            “So, now you’re here!”  Jeb exclaims.  “There’s the stage!  You got any questions?”

            “Well, how did my van get up here?” Dave asks.

            Jeb chuckles.  “Oh, sure, I had a few of my men go to greet you when your van broke down.  You were leaving by the time we got there to help you so we figured we’d let you get here when you were good and ready.  You took a long time so we sent Dave Matthews to help you out.  For some reason, you didn’t follow him…”

            “See! I told you!” Erin cries.  “Is he here?”

            Jeb ignores her question.  “So, go on.  Get playing!”

            The band sets up eagerly on the stage.  In the sinister lab, Mr. Sniffles and his cohort, an elderly mad scientist, are watching from a window.  “All right, Doc Barmy, you know what to do.  Show them your stuff… or, uh… you’ll be in a stew!”

            The mad scientist looks down at the remote control that is on the table next to him.  “I am to show zem DVD’s?”

            Mr. Sniffles growls as menacingly as his octave allows.  “NO!  You’re supposed to send them back in time with that device… back to where there’s, uh, snow?”

            “You don’t seem very sure of yourself…” Barmy starts.

            “Just do it!  And I’m unsure because I’m rhyming… you dumb git!” Mr. Sniffles shouts.

            Barmy shakes his head and grabs the remote.  He heads down the stairs and out toward the stage, where the Picnic Topple-Tree citizens are rocking out to The Way Back’s pop-tastic tunes and Alanis Morisette styled covers.  Amy is sitting on the edge of the stage, her chin in her hands.  Dewey is yapping maniacally.

            “Stop right zere, Ze Vay Back!” Barmy shouts suddenly.

            “The Who?” Erin asks.

            Dave shakes his head.  “Wrong band.”

            “Shut up!  You’ve had it now, you… you… uh, young rock and roll band… uh, kids!” Barmy has no idea what he’s doing.  He holds out the remote deviously.

            “Are we watching DVD’s?” Jeremy asks excitedly.

            Barmy looks at the remote.  “Uh, are ve?”

            “Are what?” Erin asks.

            “Just do what you’re told!” Mr. Sniffles screams from the doorway of the laboratory.  “Send them to where… uh, everything’s old!”

            “Oh.  Right,” Barmy says.  He presses a button on the remote and The Way Back disappears.

            Amy leaps onto the middle of the stage.  “All right!  Finally my big break!” as she plays her song, the audience falls asleep before they realize anything is wrong.  In the background, Mr. Sniffles is laughing evilly.

THE END?