“I ain’t gonna tell you that we started the revolution or anything like that,” Alice said to the guy with the clipboard. She was doing her best to sit up straight in the chair that the camera crew had set up in our studio but she couldn’t help slouching into the armrest as she smoked, “but we started a riot once.” She laughed as she blew out a cone of smoke and crushed the cigarette in an overflowing tray that she’d placed on the drum stool nearby. “I mean everybody lost their shit that night. Chairs were flying, windows were smashed, blood all over the place. Cops came in through the back door and started beating on people with clubs, one guy even pulled a knife.” Alice said as she allowed a timid make-up artist to brush some faint colour onto her cheeks, “What was his name?” Parker turned from refilling her bourbon with fresh ice and said, “Dwayne D’Allaire, he was the bass player for Hesitant Coma. Total fucking freak show, that dude.” Alice put her head back and let out a laugh that sent the make-up artist backpedaling for safety. “Hesitant Coma! Those guys were terrible!”