" What are you doing here?” he asked Bailey, surprised that Bailey was roaming the streets in his wheelchair at eleven o'clock.
“Karaoke, baby.”
“Karaoke?”
“Yep. Haven't done it in a while, and we've been getting complaints from the produce section. Seems the carrots have formed a Bailey Sheen fan club. Tonight is for the fans. Fern's got quite a following in the frozen foods.”
“Karaoke . . . here?” Ambrose didn't even crack a smile . . . but he wanted to.
“Yep. Closing time means we have free rein of the place. We take over the store’s sound system, use the intercom for a microphone, plug in our CDs, and rock Jolley's Supermarket. It's awesome. You should join us. I should warn you, though, I'm amazing, and I'm also a mic hog.”
Fern giggled, but looked at Ambrose hopefully. Oh, hell, no. He wasn't singing Karaoke. Not even to please Fern Taylor, which he actually wanted to do, surprisingly enough. "

― Amy Harmon , Making Faces