Lucas stood just outside the building that would soon house Empire Records and Bidet, thankful that it was no longer as cold, that the snow had somehow all but disappeared, and that there weren't any snow monsters wandering about.
He was mostly blaming the whole thing on someone slipping him something suspicious. He hadn't eaten any brownies or anything, but maybe Deb's cookies had been laced?
He was talking on his much-unused cellphone.
"Yeah, it was a freak blizzard. . . . No, the snow's pretty much gone now. I just want to get started putting the store together. . . . You guys don't have a gig tonight? . . . Good. I'll see you in a couple hours. . . . Yes, I'll buy you and the band dinner. . . . Okay, thank Eddie for me. . . . Yeah. . . . Tell Joe that, from what I've seen, I might end up with a weirder staff than him. . . . Bye."
Mark and his suprisingly successful underground Gwar tribute band, Marc, were on their way to help set things up and put up posters. Lucas was pretty sure that, with their help, he could catch up on the time lost during the snow storm and still get the store open by Tuesday.
He had a lot of work ahead of him, but that was okay. One thing was certain, he wasn't going to get bored around here. . . .
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