[This morning, a very large package arrived on the porch of 339 Brady Lane with Quinn's name on it. He looks at it for a moment, but the wonder doesn't last long - he knows exactly what it is. Gleefully, he skips off into the garage and runs back out with a hammer to pry the huge box apart. Inside is a massive flat screen TV, 60 inches long.
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Now, he is gonna watch in style seeing that mother of all TVs]
Holy.
Shit.
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What've ya got?
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Man, I've got thousands of songs, man. You got somethin' to put 'em on? Cuz I can get ya whatever ya want. I should dig up somethin' truly awful, fulla screaming and crunching guitars. Like Norwegian death metal.
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