HiddenTrack.fm

On fireworks night a cocky MC tells the one guy on the roof with his back turned that half the real stars he wishes on are dead, and he still jumped when this one popped.

The slasher of a roller rink horror franchise, tired and menacing on his eleventh sequel, explains that he keeps coming back because you keep buying tickets.

The brokest best man at his boy's wedding shows up in a suit borrowed piece by piece, gives a toast that wrecks the room, and rips his uncle's pants on the dance floor without missing a step.

At the family cookout a cocky twenty-four-year-old tells his father the grill and the mic are his now, and his father answers every brag with one question: who taught you?

A cocky MC tells the music purist that he never loved music, he loves it stuffed and mounted, and that in forty years he'll hang this song on his wall too.

When a dry county votes on liquor sales, the bootlegger who's sold out of a bait shop for forty years quietly bankrolls the preacher's campaign to keep it dry.

A music snob who sniffs songs like wine scores one ninety-eight points at a blind tasting, then sees who made it and spits it in the bucket while the whole room keeps drinking.

Her ex begs her on Halloween to lift the curse wrecking his life, but she didn't lift a finger, she just stopped doing everything for him.

The salesman keeps talking to her little brother, so a woman paying cash walks off a Phoenix car lot three times until she gets one number.

For twenty two years a stunt double took the fire and the falls for a star who swears he did it himself, until the star tries three little stairs.

His Detroit roommate never eats and never shows up in the mirror, but the rent is always on time.

Two strangers on facing fourteenth floors in Sao Paulo flirt with handwritten signs until she writes LOOK DOWN.

A deadpan museum docent walks a 'that ain't real music' heckler past every sound that got called fake first, and the last exhibit is the heckler.

A home inspector walks through the 'that ain't real music' argument, finds a foundation made of feelings and an unplayed demo in the crawlspace, and red-tags the whole house.

A cocky artist reads a formal apology to the 'that ain't real music' crowd: sorry it slaps, sorry you're pissed, sincerely, kiss my ass.

An Old San Juan walking tour guide tells cruise ship crowds that the blue cobblestones fell from heaven, the fort cats are on the king of Spain's payroll, and one man built El Morro with a soup spoon, until the silent woman with the notebook turns out to write guidebooks, puts every word in as local legend, triples his tips, and then he hears a rival guide telling his spoon story wrong.

Fourteen aisles into a perfect Saturday in an Oakland grocery store, a dad tells his two and a half year old to put back the chocolate bar hung at toddler height in lane four, and she goes boneless into a full Armageddon until he lies down on the floor and out screams her, she sits up and says, Daddy, get up, people are looking, and the cashier gives him the brave sticker.

Every kite season old Uncle Ferdie builds a paper kite for every child on the hill, until the year his hands shake and the children build one for him.

Two factory-line workers share a dented lunch pail across a short strike week and never admit out loud that it was a date.

A high-rise window crew turns lunch break into a pocket-drum circle on the scaffold, tagging each stage before the foreman blows the whistle.

A teenage drummer turns his uncle's empty drywall buckets into a drumline on Market Street and plays for a real snare.

Last shift delivering pizza: he quits tonight, and the car will smell like pepperoni forever.

Night-shift warehouse crew turns pallet jacks into a silent dance until the scanner beeps wrong.

A court stenographer turns the deposition transcript into a roast.

She runs wash day like a dance floor, and washer seven still eats socks.

Somebody keeps stealing lunch from the office fridge. The Sharpies come out.

A plus-one who knows nobody gets the mic after the best man hits the cake.

A broken mower, a goat named Deacon, and his sleeping uncle. Going once.