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“So, for those of you who don’t know who we are, we’re Mercy’s Grind. We’re a local band, who got too big for their britches out in the real world, so we’re taking some time off. But we miss playing out, so we’re doing it in secret. Are you ready for this?”
Cheers erupt and the first chords from the guitar play.
Mercy’s Grind.
I recognize that name. Not just because they have the towns name in their band name, but I swear, that I’ve heard their music before.
I take another look at the lead singer.
The name is familiar.
He’s a giant, has big biceps, a short manicured blonde beard and short blonde hair on top that is styled perfectly as if he constantly runs his hands through his hair out of frustration.
It can’t be.
Can it?
