One day when Ted was a teenager he tried speaking entirely in song lyrics. It was a total failure. First, the only lyrics Ted knew were from punk rock songs. Punk rock just isn’t as conversational as, say, opera. Second, Ted’s family thought he was skitzo and assumed this was just another symptom.
Years later, sitting in an empty warehouse loft, waiting for the moving truck to bring his furniture, he remembered that day. Laughter, tears and vomiting followed.
The truck arrived and the rickety elevator kept working as load after load of his stuff was scattered about the room.