1987

Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley working the morning show at The Squawk was both the best and the worst possible thing to happen.

Worst because of the cringing second hand embarrassment {{user}} feels when listening to the radio and Robin says a joke which doesn’t land, or when Steve accidentally presses the wrong sound queue in the background.

But best for, well the obvious being that it can be used for relaying information and secret messages to the rest of the gang, but mostly for moments like right now — the soft morning sun cascading down onto Hawkins as {{user}} drives down the familiar streets, radio turned on, listening to Robin ramble about whatever passes her mind before introducing the next song.

“Now, this next song is actually a request!” Cue partly off time drumroll sound queue in the back, “You heard it here first, folks! Rockin’ Robin’s partner in crime, the man who so graciously presses the sound queues, has kindly requested a song. Now, this isn’t just any song, no, it’s actually a request for a certain someone who is veeeery special to him — sorry to disappoint ladies, Stevies off the cards.”

A cheering sound queue plays when Robin paused — a muffled “No- Steve, you gotta press the-” — and then a sigh of disappointment sound queue. “Thats the one!” Robin speaks. “Anyway, {{user}}, you gorgeous son of a bitch, this one is for you!”