Next venue, pre-show setup, 1 hour to curtain

The venue was already buzzing when Thane arrived—crew calling cues, gear still rolling in, the lighting rig humming as Mark began calibrations from FOH. Everything seemed normal.

Too normal.

Gabriel had been suspiciously chipper all day. Not just his usual “excited-to-be-alive” vibe. No… this was a smug kind of chipper. Tail twitching, eyes a little too bright, grinning just a little too much.

Thane knew something was coming. He just didn’t know when.

It happened halfway through line check.

Mark was standing at the lighting board, going through his color presets like clockwork. “Red wash, stage left. Chase pattern, preset three. Spot cue—” he paused. “Wait… why is cue twenty labeled ‘Eternal Sparkle’?”

He hit the button.

Boom.

All house lights dimmed.

Then, from every direction, fog machines kicked on in unison, unleashing a wall of glitter-infused haze that flooded the stage like a disco hurricane. From above, confetti cannons fired—each one loaded with shimmering silver gator-shaped glitter.

A fanfare blared from the PA. Not the band’s opening track. No, no.

It was “Rocket Gator’s Theme Song”, which—somehow—Gabriel had ripped from the gator ride and remixed with club bass.

The lyrics were even worse:

🎶 “Strap in, scream out, let the gator ride begin—
Space and scales, we’re goin’ full sin!” 🎶

Mark froze mid-cue, claws flexing on the board.

Thane, across the stage, dropped his tablet and just stared as a full-on inflatable Rocket Gator slowly rose from behind the amp stack. Seven feet tall. One googly eye askew. Clearly zip-tied to a moving platform.

In the chaos, Gabriel appeared at stage left, arms crossed, grinning like a feral mastermind.

“Too much?” he asked innocently.

Mark turned toward him slowly, face a blank canvas of impending judgment. “You activated every fog unit.”

Gabriel beamed. “I coordinated the DMX patterns myself. Thane wouldn’t let me blow up pyro, so this was plan B.”

Mark blinked, glancing toward the lighting rack now coated in sparkly residue. “There is glitter in my gobos. You glittered my gobos.”

Thane finally spoke, wheezing. “I am both horrified and so, so proud of you.”

Gabriel sauntered up and gave Thane a soft shoulder bump. “What can I say? If I’m going down, I’m dragging you both into fabulous, shiny hell with me.”

Mark looked at the inflated gator, deadpan. “I’m going to feed that thing to a real alligator.”

“No need,” Gabriel said. “It’s inflatable and biodegradable.”

There was a long pause.

Mark just muttered, “You planned that.”

“Of course I did.”

Thane wiped tears from his eyes again, claws resting on his toolbelt. “Okay, okay. Gator war truce. After this, nobody touches fog machines or sticker budgets without a permit.”

Gabriel raised a clawed hand solemnly. “Agreed.”

Mark raised his coffee. “Temporary ceasefire. Pending terms.”