After they finished their coffee, Vince and Johnny hopped in Vince’s car and drove to Johnny’s house. Their drummer, Randy, was standing outside the garage, which was being used as a practice space.
“Where the hell have you guys been?” Randy said, in his big, booming voice.
Randy was tall with a thick midsection. He almost resembled the drums he played. He had long, wild, brown hair. His beard was thick and covered his face. His brown eyes shone with a youthful exuberance.
He was a hard-hitting drummer, in the same vein as John Bonham or Keith Moon. Unfortunately, he also had their drinking habits. Luckily, he held his alcohol well. He was always reliable, even when he was stone-cold drunk.
“We were getting some coffee.” Vince answered.
“Where’s Jared?” Johnny asked. Jared was their bassist.
“He’s on his way.” Randy replied.
Johnny walked past him and opened the garage.
“All right, guys, let’s get set up!” he said, with that impish glint in his eye.