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 You've never been the kind of human to jump up on stage and make it up as you go along with an instrument you've never touched. Some of your friends call you dull, and to be honest, they're right. You are boring, a waste of life.

 Your friend Schmeorge ends up as the drummer and he does an adequate job even if he does pose the whole time. The show starts around nine, and the place is almost empty. Somehow, the concert manages to be even more boring then you are. You find yourself falling deeper and deeper into the depths of despair and boredom. You can't stand the idea of facing another moment listening to Oasis whine, but you have nowhere to go. Your insides somersault and jump jack as your brain fiddle faddles.

Turn to Page 75.