The call comes in around 3 AM: Loud music complaint, respond and investigate. We knock on the door; Ice T or T-Pain (does it really matter which) blaring from the second floor window. The Old Lady bellows from within:

“Who is it?”

“The Police.”

The door opens with a creak.

“Ma’am, you need to turn the music down.”

“Why I gotta do that? ‘Ain’t nobody in this motherfucker going to work tomorrow.”

The Old Lady has got a point.

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