I've spoken in the past of a reoccurring street fair that transpires outside my apartment on 3rd Avenue. I awoke – from a deep and thorough slumber on my living room couch – to the same Disney Radio outfitted behemoth spasmodically stomping her gargantuan frame around the stage that had been constructed across the street. She lip synced Usher into a microphone, occasionally ad libbing with her own enthusiastic prompts: "Come on", "Let's see those hands", "This song is for anyone who ever wondered what it's like to be a firework. It's Firework by Katy Perry". I went downstairs and purchased the shitscene you see above. The movie Heat is not nearly as good as I remember.
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