Well, hopefully we don't have to go that far. It's one thing if it's for me, or in another time, but, you know. Gotta act like the band's not just a buncha people who might break all the venue's windows if they say no, if we ever wanna play a real show here.

[He snickers and sways with her, arms draped over her shoulders. He loves her ferocity, and hell, if she wants to threaten to burn shit down, that doesn't cause him any problems. Crazy fans do crazy shit, right? Seems fine.]

'Course, if some asshole stiffed us on pay or whatever, he'd find out real quick not to fuck around. But other than that? Gotta act a little professional now an' then.

[Until someone gets drunk, or high, or stops giving a shit, all of which can and do happen regularly. The four of them can only be somewhat contained.]