behind her , someone has cranked the volume on maddy 's little record-player and that terrible song blares louder than ever , triumphant and glittery and sadistic : `` it hurts me so inside ... tobe treated so unkind ... somebody , somewhere ... tellher it ai n't fair ... '' she tries again to get rid of the mallet-to throw it away but she ca n't do it ; it 's as if someone has handcuffed her to it .