Fo' real? My master plan finally comin' up, yo. Soon the station will be mine an' I'll play nothin' but... yo what music you hate the most? I'll play that. Nothin' but that.

[If Phil thinks the slow slumping will make Beat let go, he's wrong. Instead the squirrel clings tighter, trying to keep from slipping but also keep the hug warm and affectionate.

Phil needs it.]