This is what happens when I listen to the radio.

"And we will send you reeling from decimated dreams, your misery and hate will kill us all! So paint it black and take it back, let's shout it loud and clear! Do you fight it to the end? We hear the call to to carry ooooon, we'll carry oooooon! Though you're dead and gone, believe me, your memory will carry ooooooon!"

"...Scott?"

"Uh...hi, Kelly! How...um..."

"Were you just singing--"

"NO!"

"You were just singing Welcome To The Black Parade."

"No I wasn't!"

"You were singing a My Chemical Romance song. Into a hairbrush."

"I...I can explain."

"Holy god, I have to go tell Martin."

"You wouldn't dare."

"MAAAAARTIIIIIIN!"

"HEY! Get back here!"

"MARTIN! SCOTT WAS JUST--"

"HEY MARTIN, KELLY DANCES TO A*TEENS IN FRONT OF HER BEDROOM MIRROR!"

"What the-- you saw that?!"

"Only every freaking time you do it! Now get back here!"

"I was in my underwear, you sicko!"

"Yeah, maybe you shouldn't spy on a man while he's gettin' his groove on then, huh?"

"Oh, that's it, you are going down."

"Ack!"

"...did I come in at a bad time?"

"...hi, Martin."

"You know what? I'm going to the store. I'll just...you two just finish whatever the hell you're doing."

"Make sure you take your Beach Boys mixtape with you..."

"...hey!"