It was all getting very intense. Fifteen hundred people. Not the biggest croud by a long shot, Glasto saw 10 times that, but they weren't hurling bottles of Carling at the stage. Now or never, as they tend to say when they're not in this situation, the bastards. One shakey step. Then another. Fuck, think I'm on stage.
Fuck sake Marlon, pull it together, been playing for ten minutes without yer!
Dean! Fair do's you can always count on Dean. That's what you need in a bassist, someone reliable not some fucking... What the fuck?! Fuckin' stage is covered in glass! How am supposed to perform when I can't ....
Marlon, you okay? Fuck sake he's O.Ding!