"Hey everybody!"
you call out enthusiastically as you try to "throw the goat" with your
fingers but end up giving the "hang loose" gesture instead, "we're
Sir Francis Bacon And The Beach Butt Bongo Boys, and we're hear to rock
your pants off all night long! Awwooooooo!"
Aaaaaaaand that's when you hear the crickets chirping, my god, you've
never heard crickets chirp so loud, and it's the middle of the afternoon
even, as thousands of angry metal fans stare up at you.
And keep
staring...
And keep staring...
And keep staring...
And it's really making
you kind of uncomfortable, but fortunately a short time later someone
breaks the silence by screaming "GET HIM (or her, you might be a girl
for all I know)!"
Next thing you know
you're being tugged and pulled in a million different directions by what
feel like a million different hands, some of which are even touching
your bathing suit area, and the last thought you think before the
meaty fist of oblivion backhands you is "Was it something I said?"
