TWOSDAY NIGHT REVIEW: HAMON AND TWIST
The hostages usually make up the audience for a first timer, but we happened to be sliding out of the Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty at just the right time to catch the first and last performance of Hamon and Twist. Down here, where nobody thinks to talk about anything unless it's got seven zeroes after it, young artists are struggling to make themselves known. Those that don't burn out burn up, horrifying and entertaining audiences in equal measure. "There but for the mutually assured destruction clause in my insurance go I," as the saying goes.
Hamon and Twist, aged too old and too young respectively, were already negotiating with the security of Rantan Tower for a chance to reload and find their missing limbs by the time we arrived at the crime scene. There'd already been two casualties, courtesy of the sort of ridiculous firepower you'd only see at the birthday party of an adrenaline addicted five year old. The back wall of the Rantan Tower lobby was transformed into the worst sort of abstract expressionism. It was hard to tell exactly where the bodies began or when my recurring nightmares about it will end.
Seeing no real artistic merit in it, neither I or any of my drinking companions wanted to stay, but we were encouraged to remain as witnesses by the Ranton Tower security team. I told them we'd seen it all before, desperate newcomers to the scene hoping to make it big by fighting their way up to the top. Inspector Medeski sweetened the deal, letting us decide exactly what brand of justice they'd visit upon them. He'd got a team of snipers on the building opposite on standby, a case full of grenades that explosively deployed ball-bearings and ants tweaked on a genetic level to be even angrier than you'd expect, and some vigilante off the street who offered to pay the security team money if he could go in there with his custom built flamethrower.
The drinks were kicking in at this point, and in our heightened state of meta-awareness, somebody from our group suggested using all three. If a job is worth tackling, it's worth tackling with a reckless disregard for the safety of everyone else. That's the Ofromia way, and I'll sacrifice any number of other people to see this natural order maintained in our streets. Such an obviously elegant solution to a tricky, ugly problem took everyone by surprise, none more so than Hamon and Twist, who thought that they'd just negotiated a two book publishing contract, full medical coverage and a lifetime on the chat show circuit.
They say that to reach the top in this town, you have to be lucky, exceptional and have a sound media strategy. How many other crimes went unreported last night? If Lady Fortune, made manifest by the stingy bastards that are running the Treaty into the ground so fast you'd think they were drilling for oil, hadn't dragged us past Rantan Tower at just the wrong time, would you even know the names of Hamon and Twist?
Aggro Deluxe is a freelance journalist, crime critic and campaign manager. If you're interested in a life of high-budget crime with excellent production values for a reasonable price, contact him at 88-1250-6318.
The hostages usually make up the audience for a first timer, but we happened to be sliding out of the Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty at just the right time to catch the first and last performance of Hamon and Twist. Down here, where nobody thinks to talk about anything unless it's got seven zeroes after it, young artists are struggling to make themselves known. Those that don't burn out burn up, horrifying and entertaining audiences in equal measure. "There but for the mutually assured destruction clause in my insurance go I," as the saying goes.
Hamon and Twist, aged too old and too young respectively, were already negotiating with the security of Rantan Tower for a chance to reload and find their missing limbs by the time we arrived at the crime scene. There'd already been two casualties, courtesy of the sort of ridiculous firepower you'd only see at the birthday party of an adrenaline addicted five year old. The back wall of the Rantan Tower lobby was transformed into the worst sort of abstract expressionism. It was hard to tell exactly where the bodies began or when my recurring nightmares about it will end.
Seeing no real artistic merit in it, neither I or any of my drinking companions wanted to stay, but we were encouraged to remain as witnesses by the Ranton Tower security team. I told them we'd seen it all before, desperate newcomers to the scene hoping to make it big by fighting their way up to the top. Inspector Medeski sweetened the deal, letting us decide exactly what brand of justice they'd visit upon them. He'd got a team of snipers on the building opposite on standby, a case full of grenades that explosively deployed ball-bearings and ants tweaked on a genetic level to be even angrier than you'd expect, and some vigilante off the street who offered to pay the security team money if he could go in there with his custom built flamethrower.
The drinks were kicking in at this point, and in our heightened state of meta-awareness, somebody from our group suggested using all three. If a job is worth tackling, it's worth tackling with a reckless disregard for the safety of everyone else. That's the Ofromia way, and I'll sacrifice any number of other people to see this natural order maintained in our streets. Such an obviously elegant solution to a tricky, ugly problem took everyone by surprise, none more so than Hamon and Twist, who thought that they'd just negotiated a two book publishing contract, full medical coverage and a lifetime on the chat show circuit.
They say that to reach the top in this town, you have to be lucky, exceptional and have a sound media strategy. How many other crimes went unreported last night? If Lady Fortune, made manifest by the stingy bastards that are running the Treaty into the ground so fast you'd think they were drilling for oil, hadn't dragged us past Rantan Tower at just the wrong time, would you even know the names of Hamon and Twist?
Aggro Deluxe is a freelance journalist, crime critic and campaign manager. If you're interested in a life of high-budget crime with excellent production values for a reasonable price, contact him at 88-1250-6318.