
“Keith, you want anything special for the show?”
…
…
…
“Pumpkin?”
“Gotcha.”
OR
Ned Lagin asked what key the next song was in, and then proceeded to play vaguely rhythmic and atonal squeaky bloops for the next 20 minutes.
OR
Bobby has no idea who the fuck the skinny guy with all the toys is, and at this point it’s too late to ask.
OR
S. Lighthill! When you absolutely, positively, 100% guaranteed need everything left lying in the middle of the stage, call S. Lighthill.
OR
Billy kept punching Ned Lagin in the dick and fucking around with his patch cords.
“One ringy-dingy. Look at me! I’m Billy Tomlin! Two ringy-dingy.”
OR
Game on: Spot The Heineken.
OR
Someone please feed Ned Lagin.










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