In this, the eight and twentieth season of the grand contest called The Voice, strange marvels have been revealed within the crimson thrones wherein the mighty Coaches sit. The folk of the realm, beholding these secrets, are much astonished, for the chairs hide enchantments greater than any had guessed.
Behold Reba McEntire, queen of country song, who returneth to the field of battle with humor sharp as steel. Not only hath she bestowed upon the people fans bearing her likeness, but her enchanted seat doth now wield hidden runes — buttons which, when pressed, call forth sounds of mockery and jest. With a single touch she may conjure the trumpet of foolishness — “wah-wah-wahhh” — or the chorus of disdain — “booooo.” Thus doth she taunt her fellow lords and ladies of music, though never the brave Artists who dare the stage.
Yet this craft is not new. In the season past, the maiden Kelsea Ballerini bore within her chair the recorded voice of the departed Coach, Blake Shelton, whose jests were turned against Adam Levine, declaring him oft a “big baby” and a “crappy Coach.” Thus hath merriment long dwelt within these thrones.
Reba’s Kindness of Heart
Though swift with jest toward her peers, Queen Reba refuseth cruelty toward any who seek glory in song. In days of old, when first she was bidden to join the contest, she declined, saying: “I cannot tell a soul they are horrible. I cannot break the spirit of one who dreams.” Yet now she hath found the art of gentle speech, offering guidance and counsel even to those unchosen, urging them: “Return again, sing a song that showeth thy true gift, and mayhap thou shalt triumph in the next season.”
Of the Thrones’ Hidden Wonders
But lo! these crimson thrones are no mere seats of wood and velvet. They are contrived with cunning craft by artificers who build simulators for the soldiers of the realm. Each throne weighth seven hundred and fifty-five pounds, holdeth three cup-bearers’ hollows, and is adorned with one thousand and four hundred jewels of light that shift in hue. Beneath their seats lieth secret magic: flames to warm the body, breezes to cool it, comforts unknown to the common folk.
So spake Chance the Rapper, once a Coach, who revealed the secret to the scribes of TODAY: “I am the leak. Our chairs, the famed spinning chairs, hide within both heat and chill, that we may be comforted in trial.”
When Magic Fails
Yet even these mighty thrones are not unbreakable. In the seven and twentieth season, a strange glitch did cause Adam Levine to tremble in fear. And now in the present season, the bard Michael Bublé, in his zeal to claim a singer of wondrous talent, did smite his crimson rune-button so fiercely that it shattered beneath his hand.
“I am returned to the great red chair!” he proclaimed upon the scrolls of Instagram. “And no jest, I smote my button so hard it broke. The talent of this season burneth like fire!”
Thus the people wait with bated breath for the day this mighty episode is revealed, to see what manner of voice could drive a Coach to break the very throne that bore him.
