"Wow, the Brandon Flowers, here at our bar?! We are honored sir. Please, take a seat. Are you here for karaoke? Of course you are. It's Sunday at McGillin's, what else would the Killers' lead singer be doing at Philadelphia's oldest bar down a dingy alleyway at 8 PM on a Sunday? Please, Mr. Flowers, take a seat. Choose a song. The crowd is going to love you."
"Interesting pick for your first song, Mr. Flowers. A War on Drugs song, huh? Gotta love those nighttime synths. Can't say for sure that your voice is going to fit this type of music. I don't mean to offend! You have a real nice voice, Mr. Flowers. I'm just saying, I'm not sure how it's gonna play to the audience we have assembled here—old theater freaks and young yuppie drunks. Why don't you play your hits? No? Okay. Oh, the second song is going to be an even slower one? Yikes. Can I interest you a $7 pitcher of Rolling Rock, Mr. Flowers? Oh shit, sorry, sorry, forgot you were Mormon."
"Oh yikes, now we have a Snow Patrol song queued up for you. Is this right, Mr. Flowers? You sure you don't want to play sing 'Mr. Brightside'? Okay, alright, I don't mean to pressure you, Mr. Flowers. I just think that it might be a little weird when the crowd hears the famous crooning of one of the century's premiere rock bands and it's over some overwrought ballad. But to each their own! No judgments from the staff of McGillin's, I can assure you. In fact, can we take your picture to place on our celebrity wall? That Mayor Rendell picture is looking a little dusty, we can replace it with your beautiful Mormon mug."
"Alright, Mr. Flowers, you've been up there a while. I mean, we appreciate you gracing us with your presence, but after a few more songs, now you're singing some Lumineers, and with all due respect, sir, this might not be the establishment for you. It's usually sorority sisters screaming Spice Girls and bedazzled septuagenarians vibrato-ing the heck out of Streisand. Not sure that your commandeering of the small corner stage is working out for us tonight. We're going to have to ask you to leave."
"Hello, 9-1-1? Yes, we have a patron that's refusing to leave. That's right, the singer of the Killers. You'll recognize the voice when you get here. No, he's not singing 'When You Were Young.' I know, I wish he would too. No, after singing some decent rip-offs, he's now devolved into just singing some boring forgettable slogs right up there on the stage, and refusing to let anyone else get up there. Any chance you could send a squad car over? The post-Hamilton crowd that's also here is getting real anxious, looks like shit's gonna blow up soon if this celebrity doesn't step down off that there stage."
"Excuse me, sir, can we see some identification? Thank you. [eyes bulging] This isn't Brandon Flowers at all! His ID says 'Alex Savoth.' I mean, I could see why someone would be preoccupied with thinking this was Brandon Flowers, based on the voice, but clearly this is a poor knock-off of even that. Plus, y'all should've known better when he also attempted to be Thom Yorke when he sang 'Swim.' Anyways, singing boring rock ain't a crime. You're free to go, sir."
GRADE: 2 pukes out of 5
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