"Yo, Mike. You still auditioning?"

"Yeah. Got another one in about two hours."

"Please tell me it's not for The Offal."

"Not sure which band. Why?"

"Dude, for the love of God, you do not want anything to do with The Offal."

"Fletch, man, you sound kinda freaked."

"Freaked doesn't cover it. I just got out of that audition. Barely."

"What, they wouldn't let you go?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Come on, Fletch, the suspense is killing me."

"OK. Rule number one: a band says it's looking for new blood? Don't go there."

"What are they, vampires?"

"All I know is they're the creepiest guys and girls I ever met. Or want to."

"A metal band with girls? In this town?"

"Just chill, Mike. Even you wouldn't want to date these women."

"Hey, don't be mean."

"Sorry, dude. It was pretty bad. I'm still shaking."

"So what happened?"

"OK, so their rehearsal space is in that big factory thing near Hunter's Point."

"Yeah, I know the place."

"Did you know there's like three stories underground?"

"Two more basements under the basement?"

"You got it. Their space is in the bottom level?"

"What's it even like down there?"

"Really cold, Mike. Like winter at Tahoe cold. Except kinda damp, too."

"Does it smell?"

"Probably. They must have been burning all that incense to hide something."

"OK. And what instruments?"

"Drums, bass, organ, violin, and some kind of weird-ass harp thing."

"And they want lead guitar with that?"

"Yeah, they played me a few tracks with their last guitarist. It was, well, different."

"You're good with labels, Fletch. What would you call it?"

"I don't know, like Nordic troll metal meets belly dance and Chinese opera."

"I feel that. Sounds cool, actually. So what was the issue?"

"They offered me wine, but I like to be sober for auditions. That bothered them."

"So? I've auditioned with bands doing all kinds of stuff."

"Plus, I didn't like the look of this wine. It was thick and heavy, like a stout."

"Wonder what kind of grapes they used."

"That's another thing I don't want to know about these people."

"Did you actually play?"

"Yeah. That was the weirdest part, when they told me what they wanted."

"Which was?"

"Put your soul into it. Put your seed into it. Put your future into it."

"The soul part I get. You're right, the rest is hella weird."

"So I set up and they start a riff from the demo. A really different live sound."

"Different how?"

"Best I can describe it is really fat music from really skinny people."

"Not sure what that means."

"They're all like anorexic, but it's wall-to-wall sound, all bass and mid-range."

"Even with the violin?"

"She was playing a lot of low tones. And the organ has this thick analog sound."

"I'm thinking Deep Purple, who was it, Jon Lord?"

"Yeah, but way more demonic."

"So where does the guitar go in all that?"

"I jumped in with screaming, high-distortion lead. You had to. It's all that fit."

"Like what the last guy played?"

"Yeah. Like that. Except it was me playing what I play."

"And that's what they meant by your soul, seed, and future?"

"Still not sure what they meant, dude. Not sure what started happening, either."

"What do you think it was?"

"Maybe their stage lighting. I don't know. The room started flickering a little."

"Like a strobe?"

"Yeah, but with colors. And it started getting dark between the flashes."

"But you can still shred on a pitch black stage, Fletch. I've heard you."

"No, the problem wasn't with the music, it was what I saw."

"Slides and video?"

"I wish, Mike. The people in the band started changing."

"What do you mean changing?"

"Well, first they were themselves. Then they were naked."

"The girls, too? Wish I'd been there, man!"

"No you don't! Then they were in these robes and stuff that looked all bloody."

"And they did all this while playing?"

"And then they started looking like animals."

"Costumes and masks?"

"No, like real animals. Fur, feathers, beaks, snouts, teeth."

"And you kept playing your trademark screaming lead the whole time?"

"Dude, I couldn't stop! It was like the music was playing me."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"I don't think you do, Mike. It wasn't like blissful. It was like being possessed."

"While staring at these musical animals in bloody robes?"

"Hard to take my eyes off them. Until it got even stranger."

"Stranger than all that?"

"Way stranger. Something on the wall started looking different."

"What was on the wall?"

"When I first got there, I thought it was like a textured mural kind of thing."

"Like a frieze?"

"Yeah, like that. Except when the light went red or orange, I saw something else."

"What?"

"It looked like a person, sort of. But with parts all detached and spread out."

"Sounds like the kind of art those people would be into."

"And in the middle of it was pieces of a guitar."

"Music-themed art. Well, yeah."

"And the right hand looked like it was moving a little."

"Strobe lights, you said?"

"And I started hearing this other guitar in the mix."

"Delay through your FX box?"

"And it sounded just like the guitar on the tracks they played me before."

"Fletch, man, where are you going with this?"

"Pieces of another guitarist all over the wall! Still alive! Maybe."

"No! That's crazy!"

"And I started feeling like I was spiking a fever. And I pulled off my guitar."

"And then what?"

"And then my amp blew."

"No! That little portable Randall you have in the studio sometimes?"

"Sucker caught fire. Looked like a mini mushroom cloud."

"Way to kill an audition, man!"

"And the music stopped, and I swear I heard growling and snarling."

"No way!"

"Way! Yanked my FX box and some cables, grabbed my gig bag, and bailed!"

"With your guitar, I hope?"

"Still in my hands. But it was warm and the pods were smoking."

"And did anyone come after you?"

"Honestly? I never looked back."

"Whoa! Well, now we know what happened to their last guitarist, anyway."

"Mike, are you laughing at me?"

"Man, I'd never laugh at something like that."

"Cool. And don't audition for these people, OK? I'm serious, dude."

"After a story like that? No worries, Fletch."