Eric and Steve hadn't been quite as enthusiastic as Mal about the upcoming gig - Cats or Kids?, with whom the TerrorFractals were sharing the bill, were liked well enough by both of them but not to the same extent as they were adored by Mal - but at the end of the day any reservations either of them might have had about the gig were put aside by the simple fact that it was a gig, they were getting paid to play their music (however briefly), and that always put them in a good mood.

They scheduled a rehearsal for Tuesday afternoon, at which Mal and Eric found out that Steve had another source of happiness besides the gig: when he arrived he was wearing a rich blue replica Italian soccer shirt, the three gold stars emblazoned across the bottom of the flag on its chest already outdated by the fourth World Cup the nation had won the previous day. Steve was grinning from ear to ear. "Forza Italia!"

"Were you one of those idiots who woke me up, honking their car horns for ages yesterday morning?" asked Eric.

"Might've been" grinned Steve.

"Where were you watching it?"

"At home for the first half. Then I went and met some mates on Lygon Street for the rest. Penalties! Can you fucking believe it?"

"I guess it makes up for Carlton being so shit at the moment" laughed Mal, teasing Steve about his A.F.L. team.

"Who? What? What sport's that? Sorry dude, I can't even understand what you're saying when you're not talking about football right now."

"I was talking about football."

"Real football."

Eric scoffed, and looked at Mal. "Can you believe this guy?" he said, nodding in Steve's direction. "He can't even speak Italian!"

"My grandparents came from Napoli fifty years ago" complained Steve.

"On one side of your family."

"One side's all you need."

"But when Italy beat Australia, you were more pissed off than anyone!" Mal pointed out.

"Hey" said Steve, "it's complicated. When Australia play Scotland or Ireland or wherever your mob's from, we'll see how you handle it, eh? Now - let's play some rock 'n' roll!"

Eric shook his head and laughed, and returned to what he'd been doing before: setting up his drum-kit. "Anything to shut you up, mate" he said.