“Tough,” says Lynetta, and cranks the volume. Boom, whack! Boom-boom, whack!
The candles practically shake in their holders; then guitars rip through the air and about blow them out.
Matt and Mike look up at the speakers, then grin at each other and call over to my dad, “Surround sound – awesome setup, Mr. Loski!”
All the adults were dying to jump up and turn the thing down, but Lynetta stood guard and just glowered at them.
And when the song’s over, Lynetta pulls out the CD, punches off the player,
and then smiles – actually smiles – at Matt and Mike and says, “That is the raddest song. I want to hear it again and again and again.”
Matt-or-Mike says to my dad, “You probably don’t like it, but it’s what we do.”
“You boys wrote that song?” “Uh-huh.” He motions Lynetta to pass the CD over, saying, “Just the one song?”
Matt-or-Mike laughs and says, “Dude, we’ve got a thousand songs, but there’s only three on the demo.”
Dad holds up the CD. “This is the demo?” “Yeah.” He looks at it a minute and says, “So if you’re Piss Poor, how do you afford to press CDs?”
“Dad!” Lynetta snaps at him. “It’s okay, Lyn. Just a joke, right, Mr. Loski?”
My dad laughs a little and says, “Right,” but then adds, “Although I am a little curious.
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