[PROLOGUE] [JILL]: (Electric bass alone; greasy two-bar funk riff, clipped low notes, one sly slide, then a hard stop.) ROXI: (Spoken smoky Nordic alto; mock-serious.) Hands off the mikro-phone. It's tiny, expensive, and currently trying to survive your bass. [INTRO] [MILFRED]: (Dry 90s hip-hop kick and snare; tight pocket, light ghost notes.) [SEPHYR-GLEN]: (Clavinet adds short syncopated stabs around Jill's riff.) ROXI: (Electric guitar; muted funk scratches, then drops out for the rap.) [VERSE 1] ROXI: (Rapping; playful swagger, clear punchlines.) Yo— I got the mikro-phone, tiny little telephone, one inch tall but when I talk the whole room knows I'm home. Jill in the back with the bassline creeping, I had one good thought and she stopped it sleeping. Trying to sound clever, trying to stay cool— then she drops one slide and I forget the rule. Boom— there goes philosophy. Bap— there goes dignity. Jill says nothing. That's the criminality. [CHORUS] [JILL]: (Bass gets wider and dirtier; syncopated answers after each line.) ROXI: (Half-rapped hook; bright, teasing.) Mikro-phone! Tiny but loud. Jill gets funky, Roxi loses proud. Mikro-phone! Hold it up high. Bass gets nasty— there goes my line. [VERSE 2] ROXI: (Rapping; quicker internal rhythm.) I had a sentence. Had structure. Had meaning. Then the low end moved and my whole brain started leaning. No tragedy. No cosmic fight. Just Jill on the left getting timing too right. She hits one note— I miss one word. She hits two notes— my whole verse blurred. But I keep the mikro-phone, yes, micro—very small. Cute little thing, barely microphone at all. [BREAK] [JILL]: (Short bass feature; muted sixteenths, low octave bounce, melodic slide, then one long rest.) ROXI: (Spoken; offended for half a second.) Jill. [JILL]: (One very low note.) ROXI: (Spoken; immediately amused.) ...Do it again. [RAP 2] [MILFRED]: (Beat tightens; kick doubles under the first two bars, snare stays dry.) [SEPHYR-GLEN]: (Clavinet locks to Jill, leaving holes for Roxi's consonants.) ROXI: (Rapping; affectionate battle-rap energy, never hostile.) I got the mouth, she got the floor, I bring the words, she bends the door. I say behave, she answers low— not with a speech, just one note: go. No winner here, no throne to own, just bass and breath and mikro-phone. If funk can flirt without saying a thing, then Jill found the pocket and pulled on the string. [FINAL CHORUS] ROXI: (Big hook; smiling through the rhythm.) Mikro-phone! Tiny but loud. Jill gets funky, Roxi loses proud. Mikro-phone! Still in my hand. She owns the groove— I own the stand. [JILL]: (Bass answers with the opening riff, now one octave higher at the end.) [OUTRO] [MILFRED]: (Drops to kick and rim only, then stops.) [SEPHYR-GLEN]: (One clipped clavinet chord.) ROXI: (Spoken, affectionate.) Fine. You win the groove. I keep the mikro-phone. [JILL]: (Final low bass slide.) That was not an agreement. [END]
