"And that's it from Johnny Cash for now, all you out there. Let's look high in the sky and see that Led Zepplin and hear the caarazy sound IT makes… like it'll break your head, bambini… lotsa noise comin' on, like RIGHT NOW AND Wiiiiiiiild!"

The long limbed girl with dark hair and enticing high breasted body took a deep breath and wished she could say what she really felt into the mike. She wanted to curse it but couldn't, because it was her only way of making a decent living. She had long ago managed to completely shut off the horrible sounds that came from the records. If idiots out there in the night wanted to listen to such garbage, she was being paid to keep idiots happy. She continued the spiel, which had been written by some advertising type guy.

"This, in case you aren't tuned in already, is the Sally Sue Bennett show, coming live and direct from the friendliest club in town, Jacques' Trap! They pour honest booze! Right at the corner of Third and Main. So come on down and live a little, until 4 a.m., and then you can go next door and get revived with a great breakfast at Rosie's – they never close, and now let's hear it from the Led Zep!"

Sally Sue released the tuntable, hit switches so she wouldn't have to listen to the terrible sound, spun around in her comfortable swivel chair to Face another mike and console and began to tape a second pitch aimed at the teenagers who would have their transistor radios glued to their ears to hear her sex-laden voice enticing them to drive-ins, malt shops, speed shops and whatever Harold Eaton, owner of the teakettle radio station in the heart of coastal California, could sell time to. She had precisely three minutes and ten seconds to do the tape for – teens, and then had to swing back and put on a fun type rap with customers at the bar, interviewing them off the top of her head, looking for laughs, with a bleep button and five second delay in case they used the wrong words, thinking they were funny.