The fellows outside my window are all bouncing and dancing to the slam-bangingest baselines, making his car bounce like a monkey in a hot-air popcorn popper.
In a few moments, Super will arrive and whisk myself and the ninja V to a mountain retreat. We'll be hiding from the feds, the advertisers, and the rodents inside our mountain stronghold, and I'll be sure to break my leg and pull a Sonny Bono.