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"What do we need that giant thing for?" Bo said when Kenzi dragged the old school boombox into the loft and placed it on the kitchen counter. Bo would protest, but they were done pretending any cooking was ever going to take place over there.
"Did you or did you not," Kenzi said, leaning against a stool to catch her breath. "Spend seven hours last night banging the city's entire hockey team?"
"It wasn't an entire hockey team," Bo frowned. "The Goalie couldn't make it. Plus one of the wingers tapped out really early."
"Whatever!" Kenzi said. "There are not enough pirated songs on my ipod to deal with that shit. We need a radio. This is the cheapest one I could get."
"And by cheap you mean," Bo trailed off.
"I liberated it from the clutches of some poor slob who clearly couldn't see the beauty in this piece of vintage machinery. It'll be happier with us," Kenzi petted the giant black box. "I've decided to name her Bertha."