One Of My Last Conversations With An 8-track Player

8-track: "Hey kids!"

Curmudgeon: "Yeah, whuzzup?"

8-track: "Shake it loose together"

Curmudgeon: "Uuhhh, okay (?)"

8-track: "The spotlight's hiding something that's been known to change the weather."

Curmudgeon: "Dude. You been drinkin'?"

8-track: "We'll kill the fatted calf tonight, so stick around!"

Curmudgeon: "Sounds good! I could go for a juicy steak on the grill."

8-track: "You're gonna hear electric music"

Curmudgeon: "NONE OF THAT FUCKING DISCO SHIT, HEAR ME?"

8-track: "Solid walls of sound."

Curmudgeon: "'Cause I don't do disco. That shit can go straight to hell. You spin some B.T.O. or maybe some Zeppelin and we're cool. But I hear one gawddamn violin put to a drum beat and you're out the fucking window. Trust me. B-B-B-Benny! ♪♫ ... , ♪ Benny! ♪♫ ..., ♪♫ Benny! ♪♫ ..."