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“‘All The Way’ again?!” grouses the bassist, squinting at the brooding giant out on the floor. “How many tables they got in this joint? You know he wigs out every friggin’ time.”
“So?” Vic retorts. “Look, ‘member when we lost our blue notes? Tried to do ‘The Best Is Yet—’”
“Don’t remind us,” moans the guitarist, still spooked ‘cause he doesn’t know it was just a holoprogram malfunction. “That was heavy, man. Bad vibes.”
“Yeah?” Vic glowers at his players. “Well, Mr. Worf there lost his music. Right— his girl! So we suck it up and take the repeats, dig?”