A truck stopped on a street corner, blaring martyrdom hymns throughout the cavernous lanes and alleys of the party's heartland.
The first minute goes like this: Gino D'Acampo drives a camper van round a corner, blaring "Blue" by Eiffel 65 like a Solihull school disco in 1999, before being told (and I quote) to "shit off" by Gordon Ramsay.
The speakers at opposite corners blared the music out as Joan sang in a pop-star soprano, just like Diana Ross, only better somehow.
Growing up among the reggae soundsystems and pirate radio stations of 1980s Hackney, Troi Lee was surrounded by music, "speakers on the street corners blaring".
On the latest cover of Men's Health magazine, Kellan Lutz, a Calvin Klein model and actor in the "Twilight" movie series, stands shirtless in jeans while a big headline in the upper left-hand corner blares "Beach Muscle Now!" The tiny type in the opposite corner reads: "Kellan wears Calvin Klein Jeans".
A jukebox, in a dark corner, was blaring "What the World Needs Now," by the Sweet Inspirations, and a man with his back to the television set and a highball in his hand was telling a group of his friends about a girl he had just treated to a huge Chinese dinner who had declared on their way out of the restaurant that she now wanted a barbecue supper.
This may strike you as a bad thing, but anyone who ever has ever been mugged will be very happy to see a little robocop come speeding around the corner, lights blaring and camera flashing.
So her bartender and partner grabbed the box from the dusty corner where it had blared out tunes like Bing Crosby's "Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ral" for at least three decades, gave it a shove, rolling it into a small pantry in the back.
Up in the fitness center, cheerleaders ran on the treadmills and a television blared in the corner.
"To all of our atheist friends: Thank God you're wrong," the digital billboard blared on the corner of 42nd Street and Eighth Avenue.
