Suddenly, the lights cut. The sound man, panicked about the gear and the chaos, had pulled the plug.
For a second, the room was silent. Then, Choke’s voice cut through the dark, unamplified and raw. "Fuck you, we're not stopping!".
They were the "Boston Crew" incarnate—fast, straight-edged, and aggressively unmelodic. Jack "Choke" Kelly paced the front like a caged animal, his eyes daring anyone to breathe the wrong way. Behind him, was already hammering the kit, using Burma’s borrowed equipment because why bother bringing your own when you're just going to destroy it?