Basement Bunker

Last week, our army's newest member, Acting-Ensign Hedrick, had some housework to attend to. Menial, banal housework during which absolutely nothing interesting happened. Sweep, sweep, sweep... dust, dust, dust... find a new door in the basement...find a new door in the...

Wait. Back up a step.

On his way downstairs, Hedrick slipped on a handful of marbles left there by Lil' Ensign Hedrick, knocking over a disused water-cooler and a stack of surfboards in the process. When he came to a few hours later, he looked up to see this old friend staring him in the face:

Not a Biohazard LP.

Behind all the dust and debris, this helpful signpost led Gary to a real, live fallout shelter from this country's best war, the Cold War. Well, he did what any good soldier would do and polished her up, checked the floor joices, and stocked the larders with plenty of canned rations and MREs. And after spending some time down there in the dark, he retrofitted it with the ultimate in recording hardware: A laptop microphone.

Here are the fruits of his labor:
Tired_Of_You.mp3

The (slightly) louder version is available here: Foo_Tired of You

The only downside - to plug in the laptop, something had to give. "Something," in this case, was a school of goldfish. Fortunately, no fish were harmed in the writing of this post.*

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*CORRECTION: TWO fish were harmed in the writing of this post.