Gabe: Leave room.
Gabe: Leave room.
Damn. You were hoping you'd stay in your room longer in order to milk some panel reuse.
On the wall is a strange poster of your dad's WEIRD, OLD MUSIC. He claims you're simply too young to appreciate it, but deep down, you know that nothing on this Earth sounds better than computer-synthesized sounds coming together to form a melody, even if the resulting song barely qualifies as such.
On second thought, that poster is getting on your nerves.