Hard Luck in Middletown

"Some people go to church on Sundays, others they pray at home. You tell them that there ain't no God, that they're better off standin' alone...." - Social Distortion, Bad Luck

Early in the morning, before the Priests woke up for their weekly battle against the modern age, we gathered in the Shadow Room in Middletown. Maybe this is why the Priests are having such a hard time - this group of thirty or so would rather be holed up in a bar with black plastic covering the windows at 6:30 am on a Sunday than even remotely consider going to a church.

Sure, it sounds gritty and romantic, but this wasn't beer drinking time at all - this was grueling labor. Getting the scene just right, prepping the players. Making sure we could say Action when the price talent arrives...

So, for the second weekend in a row we splattered the walls with blood, discharged firearms within city limits and abused ourselves in profound and life-changing ways. At the end of the night I put on some BDU pants, a blank white mask and a knit hat, then stormed the bar to murder a well-known Professional Wrestler - but nobody in Middletown thought any of this was odd.