"You don't belong here," sneered the prom queen.
"You weren't lost. You were just on the wrong channel." "You don't belong here," sneered the prom queen
They didn't need a screen or a pirated copy of their own story. They lived it. They built a small pirate radio station in an abandoned drive-in theater and called it "Lisa Frankenstein's Frequency." Every night, they played music for the misfits, the lonely, and the electrically inclined. "You don't belong here