Earworm

Mrs. Horsethwaite blinked myopically at the officer. “No, it wasn’t quite like that. It was… bouncier, like da-da-DUM-de-da-dee-de-da-DUM.”

“Mm-hm,” the officer tapped some keys. “Is this your attacker?” The computer whirred and a different tune – still tinny and distorted to prevent unintentional infection – played from the cheap speakers.

“It’s closer. Can we just do the full line-up?” She adjusted her glasses, her eyes enormous behind them.

Captain Lazlo leaned across the desk. “Ma’am, those songs have been completely eradicated, outside of our secure vaults. Do you really want to be the one responsible for the breach, if something goes wrong?”