He: GANG - GANG? She: GANG - GANG. He: I hear you She gives him a wink, grasps the electronic guitar, which bears a striking resemblance to a laser weapon, takes one last drag on her ciggie and spits the still-smouldering butt out onto the street and grumbles snidely : F***K She holds the small vibrating saw to the guitar strings He has to cover his ears due to the painful screeching sound and his eyes bulge from their sockets, but he grins. They had been right. GANG - GANG!