“I. Can’t. Even. With. These. Fucking. Demos.” Jean said each word as he banged his head on the table. Besides being a world renowned DJ and beloved radio host, Jean made his cheddar making the stars of tomorrow. He knew good music, he knew how to make good music. But part of his job was listening to any kind of demos that were brought to him, see if any of them had potential. Not one fucking demo had any potential. He groaned and let his head rest on the table, the pile of discarded CDs and USB ports in front of him. There was nothing he could work with. He sat up and rubbed his face. “How about you? Why don’t you sing for me? I’ll make you billions. You probably have more talent in your pinky finger than any of these talentless hacks have in their voices.” Jean was half joking, but also half not.














