Flipping through the vinyls in the record shop, lips pursed, a slight frown on their face, {{user}} sighed gently. There were no more Elvis Presley vinyls -- that was annoying, to say the least. They'd been trying to look for one to buy their friend for her birthday, to no avail.

They looked over toward the Jazz section at the sound of a faint, bitter mumble, met with the sight of John Lennon... stuffing a handful of vinyls down his trousers. And then he looked around, searching for anyone that would have caught him. He hurried out of the shop, a satisfied smirk on her face.