(John walks out, holding the mic with that loose, swinging grip. He is wearing a suit that fits perfectly but somehow makes him look like a tired child.)

I took piano lessons when I was a kid.

(Pause for scattered applause)

No, don't clap. I was bad at it. I was very bad. I approached the piano the way a raccoon approaches a locked garbage can. Just... confusion and frantic slapping.

But my piano teacher, Mrs. Gable... Mrs. Gable was a woman who dressed like she was perpetually ready to attend a funeral for a parrot. Very colorful, but very sad. And she was obsessed with music theory.

She taught me about something called the Tritone.

Has anyone heard of the Tritone?

(A few nerds woo)

Okay, three people. The rest of you are healthy, well-adjusted adults.

The Tritone is a musical interval that spans three whole tones. It sounds very dissonant. It sounds... wrong. If you play a C and then an F-sharp, your brain goes, "Excuse me? Who died? Why is there a question mark at the end of that noise?"

But here is the best part. In the Middle Ages, the Catholic Church—an organization known for its chill vibes and "anything goes" attitude...

(Audience laughs)

The Church called the Tritone Diabolus in Musica.

Which means: The Devil in Music.

(John eyes widen, he starts pacing)

Think about the logic of that. The year is 1240. You are a Monk. You live in a stone room. You have never seen a fruit that wasn't brown. Your life is Gregorian Chants and dysentery.

And you’re composing a song for Sunday Mass. You’re playing the lute. You hit a nice C. Pling. Everyone is happy. The Abbot is nodding. "Yes, Brother John, that is a holy noise."

And then... your finger slips. You hit the F-sharp.

BREEE-ONNNG.

And the Abbot kicks the door open!

(John mimes kicking a door open, holding an invisible crucifix)

"STOP IT! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

"What? What happened, Father? I was just jamming!"

"You are summoning Lucifer! You played the spooky distance! Do you want the floor to open up? Because that is how you get the floor to open up!"

They literally banned a sound. They didn't ban the lyrics. They didn't ban the rhythm. They banned the physics of sound waves because they thought if you heard it, your soul would get a cramp.

(He leans into the mic, whispering)

It’s an Augmented Fourth. That’s the technical term. Even the name sounds like a torture method. "We’re going to take him to the dungeon and give him... The Augmented Fourth."

"No! Anything but that! I’ll confess! I stole the turnip!"

And the funniest part is, we use the Tritone all the time now. It’s everywhere. Do you know the most famous example of the Tritone in history?

It’s the song "Maria" from West Side Story.

(John sings, very loudly and nasally)

"Ma-riiiiii-a! I just met a girl named Ma-riii-a!"

That first interval? Ma-ri. That is a Tritone!

So, Leonard Bernstein, a genius, sat down to write a musical about gangs in New York, and he thought, "I need to write a love song. A song about pure, unadulterated romance. I know... I will use the Demon Summoning Chord."

(He acts out Tony from West Side Story)

So Tony is standing on the fire escape, singing to Maria, but according to the Medieval Catholic Church, he’s not saying "I love you."

He’s saying, "I offer you this goat! Rise, Beelzebub! Take me to the fires of Hades, for I have met a girl!"

And then she sings it back! It’s a satanic duet! The Sharks and the Jets weren't fighting over turf; they were fighting over who got to open the portal to the Netherworld first!

(John stops, wipes his forehead)

It’s also the sound of a European police siren. You know that sound? Dee-daaa. Dee-daaa.

That’s a Tritone.

So in America, when the police come, the siren says, "Move over! We are in a hurry! Someone is doing crimes!"

But in France? In France, the police siren says, "THE END IS NIGH. REPENT. THE DARK LORD APPROACHES."

I just love the idea that for 400 years, people were terrified of two notes. Just two notes.

I feel like if I went back in time with an iPhone and played the Simpsons theme song—which also starts with a Tritone ("The Simp-sons")—I would be burned at the stake immediately.

I’d arrive in the 1300s, my phone would ring, Homer Simpson would sing "The Simpsons," and the Pope would personally tackle me into a well.

(John shrugs, looks at the audience)

And honestly? I would deserve it.

So I've been learning about music theory. Which is a fun thing to do when you're 42 and have no musical talent. It's like learning the rules to a sport you'll never play. "Ah yes, the offside rule. Fascinating. I'll be on the couch."

But I learned about this thing called the tritone. And the tritone is this musical interval that sounds... wrong. Like, deeply, spiritually wrong. It's three whole tones apart, which means nothing to me, but apparently to medieval monks? This was a HUGE deal.

The Catholic Church banned this interval. They called it "diabolus in musica" — the Devil in music. Which is such a power move by the Church. They heard two notes played together and went, "That's Satan. We're sure of it. Write that down."

Can you imagine being in that meeting? Some monk is like, "Brother, I've been experimenting with harmonies—" and another monk just TACKLES him. "HE'S BEEN CONSORTING WITH THE DEVIL. I HEARD IT. IT WAS A C AND AN F-SHARP."

And here's the thing — they weren't wrong? The tritone DOES sound evil. If you play it, you immediately feel like you're in a haunted house, or you're about to get some very bad news from a doctor who's also a ghost.

It's the sound that plays in movies when someone realizes the call is coming from inside the house. It's the "something's not right here" noise. Every horror movie, every time the villain appears — tritone.

So the medieval Church heard this interval and said, "This is forbidden," and then Hollywood heard it and said, "This is PERFECT. This is going in everything."

We went from "ban this from sacred music" to "put it in the Simpsons theme song." That's the whole arc of Western civilization right there.