Jessica’s been singing for days and we still don’t have a hit single.

Hank I’ve been working with your daughter on her vocals all week. I don’t think the Sing Scene Pop Singing Plug & Play Video Game is going to help us get that call from Lou Pearlman.

What? He’s in jail? Well then whoever does what he used to do. The point is your daughter can’t sing.

No, she’s only our daughter when she can hit that high C.

Hey, I can only do so much. I gave her the four AAA batteries because you said it was an investment in our future. A future, you assured me, in which we’d be lavished with money and cars and houses because our daughter would be a pop star!

Instead she’s still just singing along to hits like “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” and “This Ain’t a Scene.” Wait, is that a hit song? These stupid emo bands name everything like it’s a post in some online forum. Anyway, she’s singing songs by the likes of Rihanna, Taylor Swift, Metro Station, and in what I can only assume was a programming error of some sort, Fall Out Boy.

Because they’re terrible, Hank!

I keep plugging this microphone into the TV. I keep telling Jessica to watch the Vocal Meter since it will tell her if she’s hitting or missing the notes. She reads the lyrics right off the screen, but her range is still no more than two octaves. Mariah Carey has, like, eight! She can sing in whistles, like a dolphin!

This isn’t working. Scrap this microphone. I’m heading off to Guitar Center to buy one of those Auto-Tune things.

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