Devon shook his head in wonder. And people said he was the dumb one! "Okay," he said slowly, "for the last time, I'm going to be in a real band!"

"Dingoes isn't a real band?"

Devon grimaced. "Not since Oz left, and you know it. When's the last time we had a gig, huh?" Rob shrugged half-heartedly, and he went on. "Exactly! You're getting into your job at the hospital, and Bill's spending more time with Amanda, and who the hell knows where Oz is? So, I went out looking for a new band. And this dropped right into my lap!"

"A real band," Rob said.

"Exactly! A real, honest to God, rock and roll band! With records, and tours, and everything! And groupies! God, I miss the groupies..."

"But they don't want you to sing?" Rob asked.

"No," Devon admitted, his enthusiasm waning slightly. "That bugs me a little. I admit it. But it makes sense, I guess. They've already got a lead singer, and I'm the new guy. And hey, it's not like singing's all I can do, right? I can play with the best of 'em, dammit."

"Yeah," Rob agreed, "you sure can wail. Tell me again how you got this gig?"

"That's the best part, man! THEY came to ME!! They said they'd heard of me! They've heard of me! My reputation, like, precedes me, man. They said they just knew I was the guy they wanted to replace the other guy, the one who left."

"Why'd he leave?" Rob asked curiously.

"I'm not sure," Devon responded. "He blew them off, or something. I wasn't paying attention to that part. I swear, man, you should've been there when I talked to them. I killed, man!"

Devon's voice trailed off and his eyes glazed over as he remembered...

"Devon!" the band's manager said. "So very glad you could make it. I knew we could count on you." Turning to the three men sitting at the table, he said, "Boys, this is Devon. He's the one I was telling you about. I think he'll suit our needs just fine."

"Yeah, yeah," one of the band members groused in a British accent. "He bloody well better not screw up, that's all I got to say."

"I won't screw up," Devon promised. "And can I just say what an honor it is to be playing with you guys? I love all your work, sir. Sirs," he amended.

"Forget the sir crap," another member said, standing up and extending his hand to shake. "Me name's David St. Hubbins. This here is Nigel Tufton, and the morose gentleman is Derek Smalls. And as far as we're concerned, if you can play the drums, you're in."