A group of skilled pupils walk into the air-conditioned room without shoes. They ask the supervisor the most prominent thought in their mind, which is whether they can record a song. As the supervisor agrees, they clear their throats. One of them runs to sip water.
They rehearse and stifle their laughs. And then it is the real thing.
The collective resonant quality of their voice shocks those in the room. It is a sight to behold. Everyone falls silent.
Replayed and listened to, given expert opinions. The singers are now editing it. They smile, cheer and sing. The weeks of hard work have paid off. The editing is done on a computer.
Computers are never reliable. This one is no exception. Without warning it fouls up. The Apple freezes. A pupil growls menacingly. It is not everyday they do this. It is not seldom that the Apple dies. The leader of the group sighs, having sung herself. She is unlike Macintoshes. She is reliable and sensible.
They were making a movie.