Emergency Broadcast Syndrome

Position the phantom rigged in reflective tape.

Situated like a makeshift antenna, grinning like tinfoil.

We're losing reception. we can't pick up the game.

I should be discontinued.

I am a broadcasting embarrasment.

Hiss like the damned.

Decoding the transmitted pulse that dispatch from her lips.

I am not recieving a sign that says i am still here anymore.

Do you hear me?

Am i coming through at all?

Is any of this making sense?

You've got a ghost on your hands.

A televisual image only partially clear.

Scrambled phantom (i wish we'd all just stop talking at once).

Spitting and cursing from the scrapheap we're on.

You should have lost your cool