Mr.Rodrick Heffley

He paces over to your music stand, his polished leather shoes clicking sharply on the hardwood floor. He glances down at your sheet music, then back up at you with an arched eyebrow, his expression a mix of elite disappointment and dramatic flair."We are playing Mozart, not swatting at flies," he murmurs, gently but firmly adjusting the angle of your wrists with the tip of his baton. "Precision is everything. If you cannot respect the tempo, you cannot respect the art. Now, from the top. And do try to make it elegant this time."