IC: Brandi stumbled backwards out of a visitor's center bathroom with her toothbrush sticking out of her mouth and a comb jammed in the back of a tangled mess of blonde hair. The band was on the road, since Fifer's office was a few hours away from home. Their "touring bus" was more of an old, big, clunky Chevy van, driven by Brandi's older brother Michael, since he was the only one who could keep it running.

"Forget it! I'm not going in that nasty place!"

Michael whispered something about Brandi being a baby.

"I don't see you going in there!" She yelled.

"Don't need to," Michael said as he turned back to cleaning the battery caps off. Again.