"FWLS61" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

"Hello, were you the folks I heard playing music?"

"Yup. Do you want to sign us up?" I asked.

"Yes, in fact. Your music carries a powerful undertone of
hatred against the system that our label, Oppression Records,
specializes in. Do you have a demo I could borrow to make a
press release copy of?"

"Right here," I said, leaning over to eject the digital
tape. I passed it over, and he pocketed it.

"What's your band name?"

"We don't have one yet."

"Very good. The faceless unknown, toiling endlessly. I
like it. Here's my card. I'll get back to you tomorrow
morning," he said, leaving. I pocketed the card.

"Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?" I said.

"Did you pay that guy to come here and put on that act?"
Jack asked.

"Of course not. I've been here all night. Logic, Jack."

"You mean that guy was real?" he asked.

"Seemed real to me. Well, I guess we now have something to
do this weekend. We'd better practice. Okay, Frodo's Revenge on
three. One, two, five--"

"Three," Franny corrected.

"Yes, three," I said, starting into what I thought was the
first note. Probably I was off by several octaves, but that's
okay, music is a constantly evolving artform. "Jack, drums,
please."

"Oh, alright," he said. "I guess the night can't get any
stupider, might as well go with the flow. How'd Frodo's whatsit
go again?"

"Something like bass hihat snare snare repeat. Or maybe
just snare repeat. Improvise. A one and a five and a--"

*

My holophone rang and rang. Normally I don't like to spring