Lucy turned down Drakes cigarette. She saw a lot of deaths in her family from smoking. More to the point she saw the hideous decay of bodily function as her aunts, uncles and grandparents aged. There was a certain grace of old age that smoking destroyed. Which was not to say that she wouldn't partake of the occasional joint. But then pot was known to destroy the mind rather than the body. And Lucy's mind was sharp enough that it could handle an assault every once in a while. 

And then came the militant speech from Ned. Smalltime band manager or WWII platoon leader? The world may never know. Either way however, she spent the time plucking out something like Burton's Bass Solo on Kill 'Em All while taking in the simultaneous inspiration from their manager's words and Candy's legs. She got quite subtle and rhythmic once Ned got to the part about the wall of fame and then she gave his end some extra intensity wth her dark ominous tones. 

She wasn't too shocked about the varied styles of everyone in the band. They all made sense together in her mind. Two metalheads & a rocker on strings, a rich rocker on drums, a rich prodigy on violin & a rock dj good at playing the perfect gent singing. In Lucy's mind they were all merely different manifestations of the same thing; the noble conquering spirit which led savage tribes to war, developed into fuedal kingdoms, mastered the sciences of earth and mind, gave rise to industry, nuclear weapons, space travel and computer technology, and still had a hunger for more.  

And since it was almost time to begin & she didn't see the singer anywhere, she chirped in "Did jack find his tux yet?"