I come home from a successful Bears game to what? A phone call from a girl for who? My room-mate! Of course, women don't call me. What else? The most hideous noise emanating from upstairs... a raucous, un-skilled wanking on a shitty electric guitar, played hardly in time to a cheesy, bass-heavy drum machine, and combined with awful, bowel-wrenching wailing. What I need here is something to forcefully eject them and their cheap musical gear from the apartment. Like a T.O.W. rocket, or perhaps a Stinger. Or maybe a bottle filled with ammonia & bleach (if they could be combined safely) tossed through a window would quiet things down. I can't take bad music, it must stop!