Welcome back to the week of Getting More Getting More Tale!
GETTING MORE TALE #498: Hang-Up Wars
When the employee Joe “Big Nose” began working at one our stores in the late 90’s, he quickly became known for his surly phone demeanor. Not towards customers mind you; just towards co-workers! Joe was not much for pleasantries: “How ya doin’,” or “Have a great day.” We have said it many times in these pages before: Joe Big Nose was a very unique person. And hilarious.
The first time I ever spoke to Joe on the phone, I was calling his store from mine, looking for a stock check. Somebody wanted to see if a particular CD was in stock at his location. Joe pleasantly got it for us, took down the customer’s info, and put it aside. “Hey thanks a lot eh!” I said to the new guy. He didn’t answer.
I stared at the phone. “Did that guy just hang up on me?” He had! Joe doesn’t wait on the phone long enough for thanks and goodbyes. In fact there were uncountable times I thought I was speaking to him, and he had already hung up!
“Don’t worry, that’s Joe,” said his boss. “He doesn’t mean anything by it. That’s just his way.” OK, then, fine and dandy!
As I befriended Joe over the years, we would get into some friendly competitions over who could hang up the phone fastest on the other person. This started as part of the normal course of a day. We’d call each other looking for stock, but when business was done, it was only a question of who could hang up on the other fastest. My strategy was delaying him by asking something like, “I just have one more thing for you to check,” and THEN hanging up.
This grew into a competition with a life its own. We began calling each other with no purpose other than just to hang up.
For example, “Hey, do you have a used copy of the new Metallica?” CLICK!
Or, “Mike, I have a customer who wants to know if the new Bon Jovi is any good?” CLICK!
Or my favourite, just at the start of the call: “Hey Mike.” CLICK!
We took this to its natural extreme, which was me phoning Joe and hanging up just as he answers. A hang up can’t get much faster than that! I won the hang-up wars! (The bosses didn’t approve, but since the owner started the store pranks in the first place by stealing my Mars bar, I think they had it coming!)
When I first saw this thing sitting in the Beat Goes On back room, I thought it was one of the most hilarious sights I’d ever be likely to find. For shits and giggles, I offered to wear it one Saturday afternoon, and stand on the sidewalk waving to cars. I quickly changed my mind when one of our staff attempted to dissuade me, by telling her friends to kick my CD-suited-ass. Upper management may have lost respect for me when I backed out, but I didn’t see any of them waving at cars either.
You have no defence inside the suit. Your hands and arms are limited to movement at the wrists, and you lose all peripheral vision. A gang of highschool aged Korn fans would have made short work of me!
One slow evening, I decided to take a break and use the time constructively. I wanted to try on that suit! I went into the back room while leaving Dandy in charge of the register. In the back, working a night shift on our web sales, was Wiseman, who offered to take some pictures and video of the suit.
This is what happened. The events were not staged. I never wore it again!
I started highschool in 1986, and the best days of the week were Thursdays. They called it “Game Day”. Thursdays were shortened, and we all got to go home at 2:45 instead of 4:45. Not only did that mean I would be able to catch the start of the Pepsi Power Hour, but it also meant extra time to goof around!
My best friend Bob and I were walking home from school one Thursday afternoon. A few days earlier he found something that we dubbed “the Killerang”. It was actually just a piece of red plastic from a grocery store’s pop bottle plastic crate. It was kind of shaped like an elongated “E”. An inner slat from one of those cases had come out and found its way onto the road by which we were walking. Bob threw it away assuming it was junk, but when he did, that sucker took off and flew, better than a boomerang! We saw it land far away in a vacant lot. We both stared at each other at the unexpected aerodynamics of this plastic fork. We ran after it knowing we’d found a cool toy to play with! The Killerang.
Then one Thursday, Bob brought the Killerang to school so we could mess with it on the way home. Killerang in hand, Bob and I stopped at a park by a local public school that was still in class. We were going to use their schoolyard to see how far we could get this thing to fly. Off in the distance was a class of kids watching a football game. Way, way off in the distance. It is on that field that two fates collided.
Bob wound up and threw the boomerang. He didn’t throw it hard but again it caught air and took off. We ran to collect it, and it was my turn.
“Don’t throw it too hard,” Bob advised. “It really flies.”
“OK,” I said as I wound up.
I threw the boomerang a little too hard. I watched as it flew…and flew…and flew…on its way to the distant football game.
“Oh no,” I muttered as the boomerang continued its flight. By its trajectory, it was going to hit one of the kids in the crowd.
There was one kid on that field that could not be missed even from that distance. He was huge. He was a giant. I watched as my boomerang felled that giant, striking him directly in the back of the neck. His arms went wide and he collapsed to the ground.
“Holy shit,” said Bob as I cried “Oh no!”
“You have to go apologize,” said Bob, stating the obvious. I’d never apologized to a giant before.
Sheepishly, and possibly with a huge and sudden dump in my pants, I went over to the football field to apologize to the giant.
Fortunately the giant, whom I learned one addresses as “Phat Curtis”, was the forgiving type. He did not kill me (this much is obvious). He did not stomp me, nor did he piledrive me into the ground. You don’t get a name like “Phat Curtis” for being small, but thankfully he wasn’t a vengeful giant. (His real name was Curtis Bernard.)
A year later, Phat Curtis started highschool, and it was there that I learned he was a drummer. In fact he had a reputation as the most talented drummer in school. Later on he added five and six string bass to his musical repertoire. He went on to play with my sister in various ensembles, and became a customer at the Record Store too. He was always looking for live albums with good bass. Didn’t buy much stuff, but he sure kept me busy every time he came in.
Maybe that was his revenge? To haunt the Record Store of the guy who boomeranged him in the back of the neck? To make that Record Store guy run around the store looking for live albums with good bass, but not make a sale? Could that be it? If so, I cannot say that Phat Curtis put me in as much pain as I put him in. However at least I can boast that single-handedly took down a giant!
The Boss at the Record Store used to have a little office in the back of one of our stores. The walls seemed paper-thin. You could figure out what he was doing back there from the sounds, especially when he had a cold. His sneezes were epic. They were monolithic in scale, and sounded like they were a tremendous relief each time.
“AHHHHHHHHH-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Woo!” Something like that.
One afternoon, he was having a particularly active bout of the sneezes, and the frequency and strength of them combined were impossible to ignore. One of my customers noticed and chuckled.
“Sounds like that guy is having a good time back there,” said the man.
I know the feeling a good, refreshing sneeze too. “Yeah,” I replied. “He’s had a cold all week but he’s really good at sneezing.”
“No, seriously,” the man persisted. “A sneeze is like an orgasm for your brain. That guy back there is basically having a whole bunch of brain orgasms right now.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I answered, “Wow. I did not know that!”
“You learn something every day!” said the man, who went on to do his music shopping.
The folks over at livescience have the answer. “This myth isn’t worth the price of a tissue,” they say, but also add, “Connections do exist, however.”
For one, a sneeze may release endorphins. However, “Although supporting literature remains sparse, cases have been reported of men and women who sneeze when sexually aroused. Doctors suspect that the phenomenon might arise from a case of crossed wires in the autonomic nervous system, which regulates a number of automatic functions in the body, including “waking up” the genitals during arousal. The nose, like the genitals, contains erectile tissue.”
I was not aware of that. As my old customer said, you learn something new every day!
In the early 1990’s, the CD store in which I worked was just an ordinary music store that sold new product in a mall. Later on, we did the switch to used discs which was the smartest move the owner could have done. He was able to control his own cost of goods sold.
Switching to 99% used stock attracted customers to the better prices. Before too long, the used selection was better too, because we would see many deleted and rare titles that you couldn’t buy new anymore. Ebay didn’t exist yet. It was hard to find those titles on CD. Another benefit to the switch was the ability for customers to sample music before they bought it. It was harder before.
In the earliest days, if a customer wanted to hear something, we had to crack open the disc and play it on the store player. We didn’t even have a re-sealing device. The way around this was to carefully (carefully!) cut the cellophane off the CD case, along the spine of the disc. Carefully (carefully!) slide the disc out of the cellophane. When done, you can carefully (carefully!) slide the disc back into the cellophane, and “seal” it up with a piece of strategically placed Scotch tape. This did the trick well enough for us. We made due.
The annoying thing wasn’t the fact that we had to crack open a disc for people to listen to. The real irritant was that we didn’t have anything for them to listen to it on, except the store CD player. If a customer came up and said, “Can I listen to this?” it meant stopping whatever you were playing, and putting in their disc.
This happened one Saturday afternoon, sometime in the spring of ’95. Radiohead had just released The Bends, and we only carried three copies to start. A guy came in curious what it was like. The Bends may be critically acclaimed by fans worldwide, but that spring afternoon in 1995, it did absolutely nothing for me*. Skipping from one track to the next, then back, at the customer’s command, I hated what I heard. To my ears it sounded too mellow and I was ready for a nap. It was definitely not what I wanted to hear while I was trying to work. To date I still don’t own The Bends. This guy stood there listening for half an hour before declining to buy it. It was annoying for both myself, and the other customers, to have to listen to this disc skipping from track to track at the guy’s hand signals or nods.
But we didn’t have anything else, and we were customer service oriented, so what are you to do? You listen to (rather, skip back and forth through) The Bends.
A year later I was managing a bigger store, with the 99% used format. We had a store player, plus several other units hooked up to headphones. With an entire store of used stuff to listen to, and a pair of headphones to do it with, it was a vast improvement over the old way. Once again the owner had a great idea. Even though there is no question they were a huge popular feature for our stores, the “listening stations” as we called them were still ripe for abuse. Customers would make you run around retrieving 20 (or 30 or 40) discs to listen to, only to buy none. They’d complain about the sound quality. The headphones were constantly busting due to overuse and abuse.
“These headphones suck. I can’t hear the nuances in the music.” That was a real complaint. Since there wasn’t much I could do about it, I explained that the listening stations were there just so you could hear a song and decide if you liked it or not. Not much thought was given to hearing the nuances. But this guy insisted he couldn’t tell if he liked a song without the “nuances”, so no sale was made.
Other folks would want to listen to an entire CD – the whole thing! – to make sure it didn’t skip before they bought it. Even though we offered a guarantee.
Even though we had gone through the effort and expense of providing these listening stations, there are some people you can never please. More than one fellow (yes, it was only guys) asked to listen to something, only to complain, “No, I don’t want to hear it on those headphones. I want to hear it on the big speakers!” Yeah, but nobody else in the store wants to.
Music fans: Although you can now listen to almost anything you want in the comfort of your own home, please, if you want to use the listening stations at a CD store, don’t be a douche!
The world of Rock and Roll fandom is filled with many varieties: The Uber Fan who owns everything, the Casual Fan who owns what they want, and the Obsessed Fan. They have a complete set of Tico Torres’ toe nails, and a collection of restraining orders against them. These are just some examples. There are many more fan types, across every genre of music. While I’m usually more interested in the collections of the Uber Fan, sometimes the Obsessed can provide hours of entertaining befuddlement.
Based on limited exposure to one of these categories, we at LeBrain HQ have scientifically determined that the rock band Europe have an inordinate amount of Obsessed Fans. What it is specifically that attracts them to the authors of “Let the Good Times Rock” and “Cherokee”, Trump only knows. But there is a particularly vehement subsect of the obsessed focusing specifically on their lead singer Joey Tempest, aka Rolf Magnus Joakim Larsson (he of the well-coifed head). We have first-hand evidence of this, presented below.
Our first encounter with an Obsessed Tempest Fan came with someone called “Carieann”, in June. “Carieann” insisted that Joey Tempest was not really Joey Tempest. An excerpt from her lengthy comment:
“This is for all those who say that the band Europe is still great or that still make great albums – STOP writing such a shocking nonsenses and stupidities!! All last albums are false and absolutely horrible and this fake band has nothing in common with the real group Europe from the 80’s, now they make fake records, fake and lifeless music without a soul, fake “shows”, all is fake and false and that’s because since the middle of 1989 the real Joey Tempest is not in this band and Joey was truly the only one who has made this group huge with his talents, awesomeness and uniqueness!! And since 26 years there’s such a horrible imposter and liar in this “group”, that’s not the real Joey Tempest!! The real Joey Tempest had to leave the group because of this horrible liar!! It’s so obvious and so clear to see that it’s just someone different (unless you’re blind and deaf, like bunch of ignorants).”
OK, then. But things took on a religious slant:
“This horrid demon also released solo albums under the name of Joey, still insolently pretending to be Joey Tempest!!! And this disgusting, hideous and rude imposter has nothing in common with the real Joey Tempest, Europe’s vocalist in 1982-1989, not only his looks and sound of voice are completely different but also behaviour, eyes, facial features, personality and absolutely everything!! And the excuse that it could be because the years have passed, it’s just such a stupid and lame excuse!!! This is just a totally different person!! It’s not even a person, he acts like some kind of a devil!! He isn’t even real Joey’ Tempest’s look-alike and never, ever will be like Joey!!! […] There’s not even comparison between him and the real Joey Tempest!! This demonic devil only cares about himself, this whole falsity and not about the “fans”, his main and the only goal is to make fools of as many people as possible to still gain more and more as long as it’s possible undeservedly and you all brainless idiots still help him to do this!!!”
Even though we are all “brainless idiots”, some Googling revealed that “Carieann” had been dumping steaming piles of this conspiracytheory all over the web since 2014.
Always looking to prod the grizzly, we posted a parody of a Europe review that lampooned “Carieann’s” comments. This parody review was loaded with over-the-top statements that served to underline just how weird this conspiracy theory is. I wish I came up with all of these statements myself, but it was a collaborative effort, with a Godlike genius of the written word who not only refuses to be identified, but has now hired 24 hour security for his premises. Here are some excerpts from that parody review, which we felt was a fairly obvious pastiche.
“Without Joey’s talent and unique abilities, the band is a lost joke; twisted and sad – imagine, it would be like Deep Purple without Nick Simper – just unthinkable!”
“Joey would NEVER let his hair go flat like that! Wake up people!”
“I have proof written on the back of a beer mat that in 1994 Matt Groening was forced to rewrite a Futurama episode that obliquely referenced the scandal. “
The article was credited to author “Jesse A. Jones” (a portmanteau of noted conspiracy theorists Jesse Ventura and Alex Jones), who is “Professor Emeritus of Applied Conspiracy at the University of Punkeydoodles Corners and author of ‘Paul is Dead: The Amazing Beatles Conspiracy’, ‘Lennon Lives! Why John Isn’t Dead’ and ‘George! Satan’s Favourite Beatle’.” Not to put too fine a point on it, but we felt this was a pretty obvious joke, especially with credits like those.
All a bit of an innocent giggle; some harmless fun, yes? Not where the Obsessed Tempest Fans come in! Several weeks after posting, this parody review was hit with comments from…Joey Tempest’s wife “Miranda” and her friends “Billy” and “Doreen”?! What is this?! More disgruntled minor celeb encounters to add to my collection?
At first, I took it all at face value, until I actually looked into Joey’s marital status, which was when it all got a little bit strange. All sources state that his wife is named Lisa Worthington, not “Miranda Larrson”. In fact a little digging revealed even more: accusations that “Miranda” had been making the rounds online “claiming” to be Joey’s wife. Then I found a slew of Youtube videos by Miranda: low quality “duets”with Europe songs straight from the album, claiming to be by “Joey and Miranda”.
Come on; we’ve all done it, haven’t we? I once spent the whole summer of ’90 pretending to be married to Lita Ford.
Read the whole thing unfolding for yourself. Follow the links below directly for the best comments by Miranda and her friends, “Billy Low” and “All-Caps Doreen” (aka “Caps-Lock Doreen”). If you’d rather read the whole thing from start to finish, then hit up the first comment from “Doreen” for the beginning of this…discussion. (?) Make a coffee, sit down and enjoy!
After intensive study (at the University of Google), we have concluded that not only does Joey Tempest have at least one fan who think he’s not really Joey Tempest (a mind-boggler in itself), but he also boasts deluded followers who think he’s married to them! At the very best, even if we took Miranda’s claims purely at face value, and assumed she is indeed the new Mrs. Larrson, then Joey Tempest has friends who have serious problems with reading and comprehension. The entire thing just went completely over their heads. That’s the best-case scenario here. That is the sunniest possible outlook.
The life of a rock star! We only see the glamorous side, but then you have this dark side dealing with obsession. Or, as the great man (the real Joey, I mean) sang on “Love Chaser”:
Someone’s at your door tonight, Someone wants your love, Is it real or just imagination?
(Posted from our secret underground bunker, Nunavut Canada.)
RECORD STORE TALES MkII: Getting More Tale #419: Things Customers Do that Annoy Retail Workers
A few days ago, I saw this “20 Things Customers Do that Annoy Retail Workers” via George Takei’s daily (hilarious) Facebook posts. It is so true that it hurts! The memories it brought back…shudder. I could relate to almost every single one. The list was generally about clothing stores, but many of the points were wide-ranging. Here are my favourite parts from the list that applied to us, with my own notes from the front lines of the Record Store!
1. Asking “Do you work here?” That used to drive me nuts. Our boss used to make us wear these ugly STAFF tags. It was like wearing a big hanging sign around your neck, it was so humiliating. And still we’d get these questions!
5. “Tell you that an item that you sell is cheaper in another store.” I’m not sure why people felt the need to do this at my store. Their tone didn’t make it seem like they were trying to help. Especially that one lady who told me, “Walmart has this cheaper than you. HAH!”
7. “Try to return products which have been damaged by misuse”. Ugh! Someone in my store sold a brand new, sealed copy of Hit Zone 2 to a lady whose kids clearly used it as a skating rink. When she returned it, she was furious! “Do you always sell CDs that don’t work?” she asked me in a huff. I said no, I’m really sorry, but we can exchange it for you. Then I looked at the CD! I had never seen a brand new CD that had been so quickly destroyed. I did the exchange, but then I made her open up the new copy at the counter, inspect it, and sign her receipt saying she had seen the CD in perfect condition and it could not be returned. She was just abusing the system.
8.“Spend half an hour browsing the when the store is trying to close.” I can add my own note to this one: “And then leave without buying anything.”
10. “When they hand you a $50 or $100 bill, and while you’re checking it they say ‘I just made that myself’”. I know you think you’re really original, coming up with that line, but half the people that hand me a $100 bill say it. The other half got really pissed off when I said “We don’t take $100 bills.” (We had a sign that said so at the counter. One employee named Chris liked to say, “Don’t make me tap the sign again.”)
12. “Parents that allow their children to run rampant”. This was one sure-fire way to ruin my day. There’s nothing like watching a kid destroy your store, while the parent is browsing Limp Bizkit yelling, “Calm down!” Obviously, the kid doesn’t calm down, and so he moves on to another section to destroy. One youngster tore down my entire country section – put the whole thing in one gigantic pile on the floor. The dad just said, “That’s not too bad, you’ll have that back together in no time.” Thanks for the help.
14. “Complain about the prices. News flash, I don’t set the prices!” Self-explanatory. As manager I had the ability to offer you a discount. However, being annoying and complaining constantly would not get you a discount. Being polite would. Turns out we gave very few discounts….
18.“You look like you need something to do.” Usually said by someone carrying in a box of 400 CDs for sale, which will take me the rest of the morning to look at. Thanks for the joke asshole, and so help me God you better not have more Limp Kizkit in here.
20.“So that means it’s free, right?” That was probably funny the very first time somebody said it, when a price tag fell off the item they were buying. Probably. But that was also probably in ancient Greece and it hasn’t been funny since!
RECORD STORE TALES MkII: Getting More Tale #418: Toilet Anxiety
Some of us have, errrr, a few personal hangups. Perhaps you don’t like spiders, or snakes. Many have a fear of confined spaces. Others, myself definitely included, hate crowds. A few lucky ones like me can tick off multiple boxes in the anxiety category. A lot of people will nod and understand if you say you’re afraid of spiders, but nobody seems to understand my toilet anxiety! Specifically, public toilets.
I’ve never liked public toilets, ever since I was a kid. Someone in my family, a musician who shall remain anonymous, loves to try out every different kind of toilet around. The first time she went on an airplane was an exciting moment for her. She can’t wait for the days of spaceflight when she’ll get to take a 0-gravity dump. She was always fascinated with that scene in 2001: A Space Odyssey, when Dr. Floyd is trying to figure out the instructions to the space toilet.
My debilitating toilet issue is that I just can’t perform if someone else is in the room. I remember the year before we got married, Jen bought me Rush tickets for my birthday. It was the Snakes & Arrows tour. We had a whole evening planned including dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory. The restaurant was packed with Rush T-shirts. I had to make a pit stop, but the washroom was wall-to-wall dudes in Rush shirts, peeing. I found a urinal but could not squeeze a drop. Not one drop. I began to worry. “What if I can’t go pee before Rush? The washrooms there will only be worse.”
Without options I waited it out, and eventually the washroom completely emptied. I was able to take one of the most relieving pisses in my entire life, all the while cursing my own idiotic hangups.
In some ways work toilets are even worse – at least where I work. Here, people will likely to strike up a conversation with you, while doing their business. It took me a while to get used to taking a dump at my current job. Unfortunately, my toilet anxiety became publicly known. After walking into the washroom, and then walking right out again, I was asked what was up so I explained that I have a toilet anxiety and I’d rather wait for the room to empty. Embarrassing, yes, but I couldn’t come up with a better lie on the spot. I’m a terrible liar. So I outed myself as a Shy Shitter.
Since then, I have been pranked at the office numerous times. Most often, someone just turns off the lights when I’m doing my thing. Once, a pile of boxes was placed in front of the door while I was inside, forcing me to knock it all down to escape.
Once, I almost had a heart attack in there. I was in the stall, doing my business, when somebody snuck into the washroom quietly. I heard nothing. While I was sitting there reading my magazine, this person reached under the stall door, grabbed my feet, and tried to pull me off the seat!
Thankfully no mess was created, but I sure was given a shock! You have to admit it was pretty funny, even though my public toilet fear only got worse in the short term!
RECORD STORE TALES MkII: Getting More Tale #409: Mirror Mirror
Our original store was my favourite. It was this teeny tiny little CD shop in the middle of an uncool mall. It was small and the rent was too damn high, but it was a cool place to work. It was the best place to work. There were only three of us back then: The owner, myself and T-Rev. Because we had to make due with such a small store, space was a commodity that we were constantly trying to make the most of.
One clever thing the owner did to make the store appear larger was install big mirrors on the rear wall. The mirrors started about waist-high, from about where our CD shelves were also placed, and went to the ceiling. If you looked in, the illusion was a store that was much deeper than it appeared.
The crappy thing about mirrors or any glass surface in a store is that they attract fingerprints and smudges like a magnet. Kids with sticky, dripping hands love to touch anything. The mirrors looked good, and that was the main thing. In fact, when they were clean it was enough to create an optical illusion for some shoppers….
I was working one evening as an old man in a walker was browsing our easy listening section near the back. After letting him browse for a few minutes, I approached him to ask if he needed any help.
“Yeah!” he responded swiftly. “Is that section back there closed to cripples and old men?”
“I’m sorry?” I responded, confused at first what he was talking about. The isles between our shelves were narrow but accessible. Maybe he thought we had a back room with washrooms he can use.
“No you can browse anywhere you like, is there something I might be able to help you find?”
“Just a way to get back there!” he responded testily.
“Back where?” I asked. I was still confused.
The man pointed towards the mirrors, apparently not noticing our reflections in them.
“Oh!” I said finally cluing in. “These are just mirrors, there is nothing back there at all. See?” I waved to myself and showed him.
“OH!” said the old man, quite embarrassed. “I’m sorry to bother you!”
“Not a problem sir!” I said to the man with a smile. “It happens, it used to confuse me too when I started shopping here,” I lied. I felt bad for the old guy. Just another day in the life of the Record Store!
On our old store applications/music test, one of the questions we asked was, “Who would play you in the movie of your life?” (It may have said “musical of your life”, I don’t quite remember exactly.) We had some good answers to the question. I always said that if I had taken the test, I would have answered “Meat Loaf”.
The musical or movie of my life would have be centred on Record Store Tales, obviously. That would require a lot of creative casting in order to fully capture the eccentric personalities. We couldn’t just try to re-capture the vibe of High Fidelity or Empire Records. We would strive for finding the perfect actors for the roles.
In addition to writing and producing the feature, I would also insist upon the last word when it comes to casting. I’ll be a control freak a-la E.L. James on set. I would seek out Martin Scorsese to direct.
The movie would not be without its challenges. How, for example, do we film the famous Open Door Shit scene? I would insist on it being in the movie. Otherwise, what’s the point of it? I would throw a Christian Bale-sized temper tantrum if it were to be cut. We’d also have to get permission to use a lot of great songs, which can be tricky to secure.
But what about the cast? This is how I picture it.
The Owner – Joe Flaherty (as Guy Caballero)
She Who Shall Not Be Named – Since Margaret Hamilton is dead, we will have to audition this role.
Annoying solicitors – Tom Cruise and John Travolta
and featuring Meat Loaf Aday as “LeBrain”
mikeladano.com 