With everything in place, it was time to finish up "Tommy". All we needed to do first was find a record label. I started look through the Yellow Pages for a number. Just then, Lammy, Katy, and Ma-San knocked and entered.

"So how should I deal with this?" I asked, "Sign each band to a different label, or put 'em all together on one label?"
"MAMAMAMAMAM," said Ma-San (Do whatever you think is right).
"I think I'm gonna deal with just one label for all of us."

I picked up the phone and dialed my first choice, DeviantART Records.
"Hi, this is Thomas Fay, and I have some friends who are interested in signing to your label...Uh-huh...Sure, I'll send some over...Okay, bye."
I hung up and head for the door.
"All we need to do is send them a demo tape, and wait for approval!"
Just then, Kramer burst in. I knew I shouldn't have said "What's mine is yours" when I first arrived.
"I got a good idea!" he proclaimed, "A pizza place where you MAKE YOUR OWN PIE!"
Ma-San gave him the L. I just rolled my eyes, and walked past.
"You talk it over with them. I'm going to Danny's."

Danny lived one flight down, on the same floor as MilkCan. I just walked through the door.
"Hey, Tom. Dani's taking a shower."
"Oh, really. Then she wouldn't be able to hear the good news."
"What's that?"
"I'm getting the band a record label! All I need is a demo tape from you guys."
"That's great! I'll tell Dani."
At that moment, Dani emerged from the bathroom with a towel on.
"Tom's getting us a label!"
Here, I made my cue to leave.

Down to the second floor was U-1's pad. I knocked and got him.
"Hey, U-1. I got us a record label! All we need is a demo tape!"
"ALL RIGHT!" he said.
We high-fived.
"How's Wayne and Garth?"
"They bought and rennovated an abandoned subway station on 91st and Broadway. They're bringing the show to New York!"
"EXCELLENT! Tell them about the demo tape."
I head for the stairs.
"Where are you going?" said U-1.
"Egg-yolk!"

I met Egg-yolk down at another Chipotle at the Zekendorf Towers. I got myself a burrito bowl.
"So I called DeviantART, I told them about me and my friends, and now they want to hear some demo tapes before they decide to sign us."
"That's great, hon," she said, "But a demo tape? I dunno. A lot of artists record digitally these days."
"I found my way around that. I acquire the tapes, I transfer them to the computer, and then I'll burn them to a CD."
"I see where you're goin' now. I'll Email some stuff to you later. What's your address?"
"Oh, it's villageboy ." I wrote it down on a napkin and handed it to her.
After lunch, It was almost noon. The "Metronome" artwork shot out a plume of steam. I rushed across Union Square to Staples and picked up a blank CD-R, then flew back up.

The other bands sent their demo tapes to my front door. I picked them up and went to the computer. Using special software, I transferred the songs from the small analog cassettes onto iTunes, and included the song that Egg-yolk promised via Email.
Then Kramer dropped in.
"Hey, Kramer," I said as the CD was burning, "You know any good mailmen?"
"I got Newman. HEY NEWMAN!" he yelled into the hallway.
The CD finished burning. I slipped it into a paper sleeve and wrote the address for DeviantART.
In stepped a tubby, short guy with glasses.
"Hello, Newman." I said. This is a guy I could learn to hate...
I gave the CD to Newman, and with a cackle of glee, he tottered off.
"Newman!" I scolded.

I waited for the response throughout the next day. Kramer was on my phone, much to my annoyance. Why my phone?
Anyway, I was playing cards with Lammy and Katy. Katy's eye kept twitching throughout the day.
"Hey, Tom," said Katy, "I think something's wrong with my eye."
"Lemmie see that." I examined her left eye. There was an unusual pink lining. I know the signs.
"It might be a pink eye. You ought to get that checked out."
Then I overheard Kramer on the phone.
"Hold on, I got another call. Hello? Yeah, he'll call you back." He hung up on the incoming call.
"Who was that?"
"DeviantART records."
"KRAMER, I WAS EXPECTING A CALL FROM THEM!"
I grabbed the phone, hung up on it, and dialed DeviantART.
"Hi, this is Thomas Fay returning the call...Oh yeah?...Really?...Great! Thanks a lot!"
I hung up.
"Great news, recording tomorrow at the studio! We're a go!"

On the taxi ride to the studio, I sat with Lammy, Katy, and Egg-yolk. The others took their own cabs.
"What do you think this is?" Katy said to Egg-yolk.
"I'd say it's a pink eye."
"What about you, Lammy?"
"Same here."
Then she leaned forward to the driver when he came to a red light. Her tail was right in my face.
"Sir, what do you think this is?"
"I'd say you have viral conjunctivitis. You might want to get that checked out."
She leaned back.
"I think I'm gonna be a goner!"
"Hang it in there. You'll get to a doctor," I said, petting her on the back.
Then somebody with a rag in her hand went toward the cab and started rubbing the windshield.
"Oh, I hate these filthy bums with their rags," said the driver, "GET OFF! GET OFF!"
He turned on the wipers to shoo the hand away.
"The city these days..." I looked up at the 'filthy bum' and my pupils shrank, "Oh my god, IT'S RAMMY!"
We all ducked. Rammy looked down, into the backseat window.
"Good luck on the album, Tom," she snickered.
Then the cab took off.

I don't know what conflict is scarier. "Crazy" Joe Davola on Jerry Seinfeld, or Rammy on me and Lammy.

At the studio, we sat in the booth with the other guys. Katy was questioning about her eye with the studio executives in the room. They all said it was conjunctivitis. Then the boss, , handed me back my CD.
"I heard a bit of your CD. Thank you very much. I like each act, and I'm thinking of signing you guys," he said, "So whenever you're ready, we can get started."
Right away, we all went in the studio and assumed our positions. Mr. Jay sat at the console and pressed RECORD. We all agreed before hand that our first song as a super group (The Thomas Fay Orchestra) would be "Free Bird", and that's exactly what we did.

Then I left the band to make a phone call, while they did the Overture. The Overture was planned to segue to the Captain Walker bit I did back in Rodneytown.
I inserted a quarter into the pay phone and dialed Kramer. 555-3455. Kramer picked up, but it wasn't what I expected to say.
"Hello, and welcome to Movie-phone! If you know the name of the movie you'd like to see, press one!"
"Kramer, it's me, Tom. Are you scalping tickets over the phone?!"
"Oh, sorry. I didn't know it was you. How's the place?"
"It's big, and it's spectacular," I quickly changed the subject, "Listen, I'm gonna have someone over for dinner tonight, so DON'T use the fridge."
"Who're you dating?"
"I wouldn't say dating, but... would you believe me if I said 'Teriyaki Yoko'?"
"I'd believe anything, buddy. What ARE you gonna say?"
"Teriyaki Yoko."
"WOW!" he squealed... Wait-That's MY line! "Giddyup!"
He hung up on me.

I put the phone down, a went back to the group.
"This band's sounding good," said Mr. Jay, "I'm giving everyone a 6-album deal starting tomorrow. How does that sound?"
"Giddyup!" I said. Oh, no. I'm turning into Kramer.

So that night, I had Egg-yolk over, like I said, but with Kramer's constant interruptions, it was really hard to make a move on her. He started to smell funny, so on his 3rd drop-in, I went up and asked.
"Kramer, what's that smell?"
"It's my new cologne. I made it myself."
He stuck it out his arm. Egg-yolk and I smelled. We were both confused about what to make of it.
"I call it 'The Beach'!"
Then we understood.
"Listen, hon," said Egg-yolk to Kramer, "If your thing hits the market, I'll buy one..."
"Giddyup!" he said, leaving and slamming his door,
"...then I'll ban you from EVERY GAME!"
I turned to her, "Is that your favorite threat?"
"It's my only one."
I see.

Then we started to make out a bit until Egg-yolk decided to call it quits for the night.
"See you tomorrow, hon!"