Right after the dressing room fiasco, Alyssa flew back home. She didn't want to leave me alone to my own devices, but she was wracked with guilt after accidentally ingesting Clay with coffee. Plus she had something important to do back home. She had a dentist appointment... I mean, she had a job interview... I mean, she had to graduate... Okay, she had to update her website. Leave her alone. Her fan listing for the wig Elijah Wood wore in the Wakeup Wakefield skit on Saturday Night Live needed to be updated. Even if she is the only member.

Clay had already left town to kick off the tour back in Charlotte. I should have left with Alyssa, but I wanted this chance to get inside Clay's home and steal a pair of boxers. I man like that was sure to have many boxers. He wouldn't mind me taking just one. I should've listened to the voice in my head that told me to leave.

I walked down the streets of LA in search of my hotel, which I had misplaced. Or had it misplaced me? As I rounded the corner to yet another unfamiliar street, I heard the sounds of Kimberley Locke's new single, '8th World Wonder', playing faintly in the distance. The volume picked up as the car got closer. I closed my eyes and hoped the car would hurry by and end my suffering. But it pulled up the stop sign next to me and stopped. The nerve. I tried to maintain my composure, but images of Kimberley and Clay cooking in the same kitchen and parking in the same driveway made me itch with displeasure. I couldn't hold it in.

I jumped inside the car and bashed the radio in with the driver's cell phone. "Never again will you play that song in my presence!! Peasant!"

As I was walking away, I realized the driver of the car was Miss Kimberley Locke herself. I turned to smirk at her, but I was grabbed from behind by 6 police officers. The next thing I knew I was being read my rights and carted off to prison.

Jail is no treat, believe you me. There is a giant toilet in the middle of the cell, which I refused to use. I was allowed one phone call and one can of coke. I called Alyssa and I downed that coke in a second.

I had to wait 6 hellish hours for Alyssa to show up. I didn't think I could make it. That can of coke had done a number on my bladder and I was absolutely not going to use that toilet in front of my 6 big, bald cellmates. Out of boredom I started dragging my empty coke bottle back and forth against the bars, making a clanking noise. Then I started to sing softly. Only one song seemed appropriate for such a setting.

"If one day you discover her broken down, she's lost everything. No cars, no fancy clothes to make her who she's not."

I heard one of my cellmates asked what the god awful noise. I kept on singing, a little louder this time.

"Would she walk on water? Would she run through fire? Would she stand before you when it's down to the wire? Would she give her life up to be all she can?"

Another cellmate yelled at me to "shut the hell up".

I raised my voice to an unsteady pitch and finished my rendition. "Is that, is that, is that... how you measure a girl?"

A lady in the next cell applauded me when I had finished. I think she was in for killing a man, so I didn't want to make eye contact with her.

The security guard didn't share her enthusiasm. "Pipe down, Smith!!"

I muttered to myself. "I'll pipe him down! Telling me I can't sing in my own jail cell. I'll show him a thing or two. I may not be able to pee, but I can sing!!" So I did. At the top of my lungs.

"IS THAT HOW YOU MEASURE A GIRL!!"

Ugly security guy ended my fun. "Smith!!"

"All right! I'll shut up!"

"Not that. You're free to go. Bail has been posted."