Devon had surprised himself today. He did what most people thought he was incapable of: being spontaneous. Devon had bought a new laptop today, the nice and expensive Apple Macbook. He had got a new one partly due to the fact that his old one was barely able to play anything on youtube or load facebook without it taking minutes to load, but also (as part of his spontaneous streak) he had wanted to start producing music. He had done some research on what he needed to start producing, and the main thing was a faster computer and a keyboard, so he went out and bought one. He didn’t quite have the money on hand to buy everything he needed, so he went and did one of those down payment/monthly plans to pay for it. One early cloudy morning (he had woken up slightly earlier to play around with his new toys) he heard a loud banging from upstairs. He knew that the late great rockstar Pink lived in the room above him, but he rarely heard any noise above, or for that matter, noise from any other room near him. He felt lucky to have quiet neighbors. Devon heard another loud thud but a shout was followed by it afterward. Feeling bored and noisy, Devon decided to go up a level to see what all the commotion was. Devon took the elevator up, and when the door opened, he heard an authoritative voice go, “It’s the police...open up!”
This made Devon halt in his tracks and wonder if he should really proceed out of the relative safety of the elevator. The man shouted again, “Open up!” Devon wondered if Pink was ok, and if he should go and tell the man shouting into the door that sometimes loud noises coming from a rockstars room may not be all that out of the ordinary. Just as Devon had made up his mind to leave it alone, He heard 3 loud bangs and a shout having to do something with ghosts. Devon rushed out of the elevator to see three large policemen crash into the room. It was only about 30 seconds later when the police pulled pink out of the room. He was shouting something about a father floyd and ghosts and three pigs. The police pushed past Devon dragging Pink in the middle of them. He was shouting something about flying in 1979. “The man has finally lost it,” said Devon grimley in his head. The policeman and rockstar conundrum were in the elevator, and the door closed on a shouting Pink. The whole situation had oddly affected Devon.
He stood there in the hallway for a minute, silently reflecting on the events he just witness. Inside his head Devon decided to name the first song he made using his brand new computer Pink Flying Ghosts. The name struck Devon with some pleasure, and he called the elevator.
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