She smiled slightly, sheepishly. As much as Diana could be sheepish. She was usually pretty shameless. "I'll do my best," she said. "But I gotta tell you, that whole idea of a song getting stuck in someone's head? I'm pretty sure I invented that."

Along with half of the good showtunes out there.

Man, that's a case of the cure being worse than the disease. It must be really hard on him, to resort to stabbing himself in the neck. Poor guy...

"And I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but Jack has this crazy-ass vodka that might help? It's space vodka. Not entirely sure what it would do to you."

A pause.

"Oh, yeah. Jack is from outer space."