Position The Phantom Rigged In Reflective Tape.

Situated Like A Makeshift Antenna, Grinning Like Tinfoil.

We're Losing Reception. We Can't Pick Up The Game.

I Should Be Discontinued.

I Am A Broadcasting Embarrasment.

Hiss Like The Damned.

Decoding The Transmitted Pulse That Dispatch From Her Lips.

I Am Not Recieving A Sign That Says I Am Still Here Anymore.

Do You Hear Me?

Am I Coming Through At All?

Is Any Of This Making Sense?

You've Got A Ghost On Your Hands.

A Televisual Image Only Partially Clear.

Scrambled Phantom (i Wish We'd All Just Stop Talking At Once).

Spitting And Cursing From The Scrapheap We're On.

You Should Have Lost Your Cool.