Now it's war

He did it again.
Manic-Depressive Speech Impediment Boy's rousing rendition of "O Sole Mio" was NOT appreciated by the staff.
Not at 2pm on a Saturday, when I already had been rudely startled into the world of the conscious and animate by
his morning set. I was only trying to take a nap...
You can't imagine how long someone "not altogether there" can amuse himself by singing the same 4 songs repeatedly.
Apparently Accountant Brother was not present, leaving Brother #2 the run of the house. I could just seem him hustling
about his living room in tight white underpants and a wife beater.
Well, I didn't want it to come to this. It is a last resort, a secret weapon of sorts which has worked for years in situations worse
than this.
I am going to have to pull out the big guns.
Wagner.
Sure, he was an adulterous racist with a penchant for pink silk intimates, but you have to admit the man could pen
a really LOUD opera. And I just happen to have surround sound in the bedroom, and my speakers are mobile.
Now, as I rub my hands together in sheer delight I am trying to imagine the scene. He'll plug in the karaoke...and at the first
measure I will be at the ready with my cd, an opera-wielding Lady Deathstrike.
I wonder how Old Boy will feel after 12 hours of Das Ring des Nibelungen. I might just throw in Parsifal at the end to make my kill.