All the old boomboxes are there, blinking and waiting to whirl. All but one: yours.

All the old boomboxes are there, blinking and waiting to whirl. All but one: yours.

The boomboxes wait on the shelves. And your boombox -- that gold and amber Harmon Wowshi -- stares at you longingly with its tape reel eyes.

"Are you sure this is all in working order?"

"Absolutely. I've tested each one myself with recordings of speech, found sounds, and music from a variety of genres. Even though," he grimaces, "I don't really like music."

That's odd. Why doesn't he like music?

"Don't like music? What do you like then?"

"The stuff I record myself -- silverware shaking in drawers as motorcars race by, nocturnal animals climbing on the roof, airship rotors, that kind of thing."

Hmm... maybe you should ditch music as well, get into these more experimental sounds he's describing?

"Got it. Back to this guy..." (Tap the boombox on its speaker.)

"He is a good one, that. Weather resistant."

"Can I just play a tape on one of the boomboxes real quick?"

"Sorry, man. I can't be giving out freebies. Never have, won't now."

That's all. [Leave.]

"Thanks for the discount, man. Here's the money for the boombox."

"And here you are. Quality sound reproduction on the go. It'll play anything. Wherever. Turn any tape into a conversation of sounds and shapes."

"Thanks for the discount, man. Here's the money for the boombox."

"Shopkeep, this Stereo 8 approved machine here..."

"...is the Harmon Wowshi W02 -- made in Vesper, designed in Seol," he says. "Plays all reel-to-reel formats: 2mm, 8mm, 12mm. It's even got a little radio in there. It'll set you back 12 reál."

"I want to buy that boombox."

"What I really want to know is... could this device come handy in my police work?"

"If police work means playing tapes, sure. You can use it for that. Or any other time you'd need to play a tape."

Like at a beach party. With sand and sun and seagulls dancing on the breeze.

"Thanks for clearing that up, Roy."

"For sure. It's a consumer device with professional applications."

(Turn to Kim.) "Theoretically: could I bring it to a beach party?"

"I don't think the 'Doorgunner Megamix' will be good party material. Something about the name..."

"You're right, Kitsuragi. Work first. Party later."

"That is the unofficial RCM motto, yes."

It's not, sadly.

"Okay Kim. I'll just rock out with Roy then."

"I don't like beaches. They accumulate too many photons, it's always chaos out there. But live your life, man. You can use it at a beach party if you want."

"Actually, it doesn't have to be a beach. With a boombox like that, I'll bring the party into the streets!"

"You can play it anywhere you like. And I guess since you're are a police officer, no one can arrest you for it."

"You're right. It's really The End that I need it for: a Requiem For All Lifeforms."

"It'll play that," the man nods. "Any Requiem really. Also dirges. Madrigals. Chants. As long as it's on tape."

Sounds like he's already heard the Requiem For All Lifeforms and wasn't that impressed.

"Theoretically, yes. But we don't have time right now. It's generally: murder investigation first, then beach party."

"Can I get a discount on this boombox? A police discount."

"A discount? I do have to keep the lights on, man. It's twelve reál."

A man like that in a neighbourhood like this? In a rickety house falling into the sea? There's fear in him. Use it to your advantage.

Careful. You can only do this once.

"Aren't you afraid of masked gunmen? The roof falling in? Killer waves? Aircraft accidents? Botched surgeries? I'll buy it for four reál."

"No, not really. I expect momentous change at any moment... But it seems that you are." He almost sounds concerned and seems to weigh your offer.

"Fine." He nods decisively. "Four reál it is."

Succcess!!! Sort of. Whatever gets the job done, right?

"I'm not just doing any police work -- I've got THE DOORGUNNER MEGAMIX here! An era-defining work. Let's do four reál."

He purses his lips. "Four reál is offensively low... but just this once. For the musique concrète cop."

"Let me hit you with this: four reál. Huh? Whaddya say?"

"I say: it's twelve reál. Four is a total ripoff. It's not even a number."

What did I say? And what did you do? Damn it, man. You're buying it for twelve now, I guess.

"Let's make it eight reál."

"Actually, yes. Let's. Eight is an even better number than twelve. Even more internal balance." He observes the light on the wall and adds: "Better integrity too."

"Fair enough, business man. Twelve it is."

"Twelve is a good number. Good internal balance." He studies the light on the wall. "Twelve has integrity."

"How does ten reál sound?"

"Sounds like a ripoff, but okay. I can make it ten -- but no lower."

Remember -- he doesn't like music. He likes sounds. The Doorgunner Megamix is his type of tape! Certainly he'd give you a discount if he knew you'd play something so experimental.

Just don't ask him for the smallest amount. You'll insult him. The others will work.

He seems like an experimental man. And what sonic experience is more experimental than the Doorgunner Megamix? Certainly he'd give you a discount if he knew you'd play that.

"Thanks for the discount, man. Here's the money for the boombox."