Where's. Your. Head. At.
"Hey!"
"The request sheet is right there."
"No. This is something else. You need this."
I hand him a napkin with Underworld written on it in pink ink.
He shakes his head, "Nah. I can't play that here. It's too hard."
"What the fuck?" I yell over some cheap E dance music, something country kids pretend to rave over.
I put my tonuge in your mouth, the least you could do is play my Mother. Fucking. Song.