Curtain up on NORMAN, a rock star, sitting behind a desk full of cassette tapes. The office is small, with a lone gold record on the wall. Norman puts a tape into the recorder on the desk and pushes PLAY.
FIRST MALE SINGER: (singing) You ain't nothin' but a groundhogWith a groan, Norman removes the tape and puts another one in the machine.
SECOND MALE SINGER: You say digest, I say whoaNorman stops the tape, takes a bottle out of a desk drawer and, drinking, replaces the tape with yet another one.
THIRD MALE SINGER: (singing) Mankind has reached a new stage, nowNorman angrily hits the STOP button. He puts his head on his arms on the desk. Enter PHIL, who is looking for him.
PHIL: Oh, man, there you are. Are you still at it?
NORMAN: (looking up) Four hundred demo tapes, man, and just as many to go...
PHIL: Why don't you take a break?
NORMAN: We need one more song to complete the album.
PHIL: So? We'll rip off some chords from the Byrds. Who's gonna know?
NORMAN: I will, man. This last song has to be a good one.
PHIL: (putting a hand on Norman's shoulder) Look; in the room next door is a party the likes of which hasn't been seen since the days of Caligula. Anything you want, and it's yours. And, best of all, the label is picking up the tab. What do you say?
NORMAN: I - you're disgusting, you know that?
PHIL: (shrugs) We got a reputation to uphold, you know.
NORMAN: I'll be along in a while.
PHIL: (a but angry) Oh, what are you looking for, anyway?
Walls fall back to reveal a rock band on stage.
NORMAN: (singing) I never thought my tune would be so longWalls return; we're back in an office.
PHIL: Wow, man! Great effects!
NORMAN: Thanks. Do you see why I have to be careful choosing this song, man?
PHIL: Umm, no, man. I wasn't paying attention to the song.
NORMAN: (angry) Oh, man oh man, man!
PHIL: Hey, man! Don't man oh man, man me, man!
NORMAN: Didn't you hear a word?
PHIL: Yeah. Demographics. Norman, baby, it doesn't matter what song you choose. We could sing "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer." And, do you know why it doesn't matter?
NORMAN: (knows) Why?
PHIL: Cause we got the record label behind us, baby. That means we'll get lots of airplay, which means guaranteed big bucks. Get it?
NORMAN: (unconvinced) Yeah, I know all that -
PHIL: You're getting to be a real downer, you know? Are you coming?
NORMAN: Be there in a couple of minutes.
PHIL: (shrugs) Suit yourself...
Phil exits. Norman puts another tape in the recorder and, after a second, hits PLAY.
FOURTH MALE SINGER: (singing) Strange young men walking in sheets and coming up to my doorCHORUS: Where?
FOURTH MALE SINGER: (singing) There, there goes Dawn and she's with one of themNORMAN: (stopping the tape, frustrated) Aaaaaargh!
Curtain.
(with plentiful apologies to Elvis Presley, The Beatles, Elvis Costello, Asia and Joe Jackson)