Mal and the drummer arrived at the rehearsal venue, which was a small room in the back of the singer's house.

The singer was very excited when they got there. "Hey, you guys, come and have a look at this." They followed him into the rehearsal room. "What d'you think, eh?" he said proudly.

In the corner of the room was a small bar fridge. "Yeah, cool" said Mal without much excitement.

"Wait, wait though" said the singer, still grinning ecstatically but with a look in his eye that suggested that he was slowly realising he was losing his audience. He hurriedly opened the door of the fridge as if he was displaying it on a quiz show. "What d'you think, eh?" he asked again. The fridge was full of beer.

"Oh man, fucking V.B.?" complained the drummer. "Anyway, isn't your proper fridge, like, two rooms away?"

"Yeah, but that's not the point" said the singer. "This one's right here! It's the rehearsal space, you know? It's gotta have its own fridge!"

The drummer shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. Come and give us a hand brining in the rest of my gear, yeah?"

"Yeah, just a sec."

Mal and the drummer didn't wait, but went outside again to start bringing in the various pieces of the drum kit. When they got to the van the band's guitarist was just pulling up in his own car. "Hi man, how you doing?" asked Mal.

"Fucking bastard fuckers!" shouted the guitarist, slamming the door of his car shut. "Arseholes broke into my place and stole my guitar!"

"Shit - the strat?" asked Mal, horrified (actually, it was a replica strat, but it looked good).

"Yeah" replied the guitarist. "Amp too."

"Oh, shit!"

"Well that's fucking great" said the drummer. "What the fuck are we gonna do now?" He turned to the guitarist. "You know if you weren't high the whole fucking time we probably wouldn't have to deal with this shit!"

Before the guitarist could say anything the singer came out, a can of V.B. in his hand. "What's going on guys?"

"My fucking guitar's been stolen."

The singer grinned. "That's cool, I know this chick in a music shop, she owes me a favour."

"Have you called the cops?" asked Mal.

"With the shit he's putting up his nose?" said the drummer incredulously.

"Fuck off!" snapped the guitarist.

"Hey" said the singer, "how about we go 'round and see this chick then?"

"Fuck that" said the guitarist. "I'm going home." He got back into his car and drove off.

"Well this has done us a lot of good" said the drummer sarcastically. "Great rehearsal guys, thanks."

"Oh, no" complained Mal. "I'm all soaked again!"