Mario Flambeau was once a guitar god, a superstar in the psychedelic heyday. Now he's a burned-out wreck. When a desperate producer finds him in a church basement in a band with other derelicts, he has visions of a major comeback payday. Add a drummer with an anger management problem and a preening drifter diva lead singer, and you've got all the makings of a true rock and roll apocalypse.
You do things different when you're a mute security guard. You have to. People don't naturally have your respect. Now I use a whistle. Before I would just kind of go and maybe tap them on the shoulder if they were doing something they shouldn't be. People didn't react too well to that. People don't always liked to be touched by strangers, especially big scary-looking ones. I can't help it if I'm six four, two forty and built like a roc...