The clock on the warehouse's brick wall struck 4 o'clock. The orangey-red letters flashed On Air as all four adjusted their headphones for the last time.

I'm Question Mark and I'm wondering... Robbie started with a somber tone of voice, pausing after the final word, something he didn't do often. Are we getting old? RFR was supposed to be cutting edge stuff. And I used to think the only thing that would stop us was if all of our identities were revealed. I never thought we could run dry. But then we did. In fact, if you're listening to this right now, you should know your'e part of a small minority. And for most radio stations, that'd be enough to thrown in the towel...

Lily as Shady Lane sharply interrupted, Lucky for you, we don't give up that easily.

Here's our proposition, Robbie continued, as Travis sat boredly behind the station's controls, For the next two weeks, starting Monday, RFR will be focused solely on music from local bands, singers, whatever. Sort of a....Local Talent Fest. You can get your music to us by...um... Robbie was at a loss for words. He still hadn't thought of a plan.

Leaving your demo at Mickey's, Travis, as Smog, added, surprising both Lily and Robbie, And we'll have one of our inside sources pick it up and drop it off with us.

Lily said, smiling at the fact that they had a plan, and Travis's support, It will safely be back in your posession within a couple days.

If you like our proposition... Robbie began.

Or you think it stinks worse than boy's bathroom...before they cleaned out all those dead mice... Ray added, shuddering.

Call us now, Lily said brightly. Within mere seconds, the phone in the warehouse was ringing. Travis pushed the blinking 1st line button and held up his chalkboard, reading in big, bold letters: Ed & Ted.

Robbie said monotonously at the sight of the chalkboard. And how are you today, Ed and Ted?

Quite splendiferous, Senor Question Mark, Ed responded. And yourself? Robbie was about to answer when the sounds of Ted muttering were audible. Oh, right, Ed continued. Ted and I believe that the Local Talent Fest sounds like an excellent vehicle for exploring Roscoe's hidden talent.

And we'll be sure to play your song You're So Collectable, Girl daily, Robbie said, somewhat sarcastically. Stunned silence followed, before shrills of delight.

RFR's heard of us! they heard Ted yell. We're on our way to superstardom! This only lasted seconds before the sophisticated speaking returned once more.

Why, how thoughtful and kind of you to mention our petty litte song when such greater talent abounds in Roscoe, Ed said, maintaining his cool.

You can say that again, Ray muttered under his breath.

We support your decision to go local-music-only for the next week, Ted said, also keeping his cool and shielding his giddiness. RFR rules! All four DJs smiled faintly. Ed and Ted practically represented the public--they always had the same opinions as the majority of the listeners. So their opinions had come to be pretty well-respected amongst the group. They took a few more calls, all positive, before Travis put on a song and their microphones were turned off.

Verdict reached? Robbie asked, peering over in the direction of Travis's box.

The court does, in fact, rule in favor of Mr. Robert McGrath, Travis said with one eyebrow cocked.

Court adjourned, Lily said, beaming, as she slipped her headphones back over her ears.

~~~~~~

It didn't take long for Lily to become completely stoked about finding new music in Roscoe. She'd seen a bunch of awesome acts at Mickey's and elsewhere, until they faded away into musical oblivion. If she had to, she was willing to scout for talent all over the town until they found something good enough to play on RFR.

In the meantime on this idle Friday afternoon, she headed over to Mickey's to play a bit. Who knows what she was thinking exactly. Maybe she wanted someone to say, Hey, cool guitar. I play guitar too. I have a band. We're awesome. Would you like a copy of our demo? Maybe that wasn't the most realistic situation possible. But it was worth a shot.

Lily walked in with her guitar case in hand, carrying it like a briefcase. She found Mickey drying off a glass behind the counter, and she set down her case on a couple of stools.

Mind if I play? she asked hopefully, though she pretty much knew the answer.

Well, you can, Mickey said ruefully. But some punk busted our good amp the other night. Fell on it after some guy pushed him. I got him working here for a couple weeks to earn back the money, and some extra for himself. He set down the glass and looked up to the ceiling, pondering. There might be an old amp in the back. Not as hi-tech, but it gets the job done. He dug in his pocket and handed her a key. Here. Right back here. He showed her the door to the back, and she opened it, thanking him briefly and walking in. As soon as the door closed, she flicked on the light switch. One second ago she had been in the cool hip Mickey's. Suddenly she was plunged into the depths of some ancient dungeon. It was dank and cold, and cobwebs were all around.

She tried to navigate her way through, but the few lights around were not helping, and there seemed to be another hallway, leading to another room. Not seeing another amp, she walked slowly down that hallway. It led her to another room, which she cautiously turned into...

Lily momentarily screamed shrilly. The guy standing there dropped the whole record pocket he'd been holding, record and all, and it smashed on the ground in front of him.

I'm...so, so sorry, Lily said, when she stopped freaking out. Over the guy and over the record breaking. I was just coming down here for an old camp, cause Mickey said that someone broke the newer amp and I.... She paused, searching for words. She breathed out a sigh of sort-of relief. I wasn't expecting to find anyone down here.

The guy hunched down towards the ground, picking up what bigger pieces of the broken record that he could. Lily looked down at him, only seeing his shaggy light brown hair hanging in his face. He didn't look up before he began speaking, still intent on the broken record pieces.

Yeah, neither was I, he said, monotonously. So maybe you should leave before you break every other record and CD in storage. Lily backed up a step. Wee-oo, wee-oo, major jerk alert! She looked at him with a sort of bitter contempt.

Well, sorr-ee, Mr. Amp-Destroyer, she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Didn't mean to put a damper on your sunshiny day. She was still staring at him. His eyes were dark brown--perfect villain eyes. She waited for another angry comment before she could storm out. But as she watched, his mouth slowly curled up into a slight smirk.

I was kidding. He picked up a box fuil of records from the floor. Ms. Record-Destroyer. He walked past her out the door, brushing against her shoulder intentionally as he did.