Oliver begins to roll his sleeves up as if to ready himself for action.  He then turns slightly to his left, fully facing Ramona as she stands across the empty hallway.  With his left arm he makes a sweeping motion, his forearm resting parallel to his waist.  He then steps back with his right foot, bends at the waist and tucks his head, giving Ramona the most courteous of bows.  He holds the bow for several seconds before spinning on his right heel to face the door in the ceiling.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver begins to roll his shoulders back methodically, loosening the tight muscles in his back.  He holds the oxygen in his lungs for as long as he can—until they begin to sting—before slowly exhaling.  He starts blinking slowly, his mind and body moving in slow motion, almost as if in a trance.  With his eyes still closed, his right foot begins tapping to a gradually accelerating beat.

With alarming speed Oliver stands erect, his legs, knees, and feet together and his arms straight down at his sides.  He then raises his arms up ninety degrees at the shoulder and bends them slightly at the elbow, assuming the traditional stance of an orchestra conductor.  He takes one more deep breath, quickly sucking the oxygen into his lungs and letting it out with a “ha!”

Her fear and nervousness beginning to peak, Ramona attempts to ask Oliver exactly what he’s doing.  “W…w-wait, j-just what are y—”

Twisting to his left at the waist, Oliver cuts Ramona off with a single finger pressed gently to his lips.  Slowly shaking his head, he looks her in the eyes and says, “Shhh, my dear.  It’s show time, and I am going to need complete and absolute silence if I am to perform.”  He turns back to face the door again, re-assuming the stance of an orchestra conductor.  Once more he sucks in a lungful of air and lets it out in a huff.  “And I have one hell of a performance for you today.”