Other singers are called up by name. “Roz” sings Amy Winehouse’s “You Know I’m No Good.” She and the singers who follow her are all good or better, except for the two skinny white guys who bend far backward while shouting “Come on, Eileen.” They may be off key, but they’re having a blast.
People are dancing, and the place is jumping. A kid with green hair wearing a bandolier—complete with long, shiny, pointy bullets—sings a song I don’t recognize; it’s something from the 1980s, I think.
The woman makes an announcement: “MoFo Karaoke loves you, but you don’t get a second song, so pick your favorite.”
The next guy performs a Devo song. He’s a big fella wearing a Viking helmet and looks just as if he came from a science fiction convention. I ask where he got his hat and he shows me a big box offstage, but when I dig around in it, I find no inflatable instruments. So I go ask the woman where they are.