(Real Life Note: I was playing this game a couple years ago, until real life got in the way. Got a little more time on my hands these days, so I decided to take a crack at it again. Lo and behold, my accounts all still exist, so I'm back in the game.)
***Somewhere in South Suburban Chicago***
Bradley Ard kneels in a field in front of a derelict building. The building, once a busy, vibrant recording studio, has sat empty for the better part of a couple of years.
The building's neglect shows. Where the bright, flourescent-lit sign was on the front once was now sits a shell, consumed by wasp nests. The windows have all been smashed, presumably by kids from the nearby town, and the inside has been exposed to all manner of weather, presumably ruining the woodwork. The main console is long gone, as is the rest of the recording gear.
Two cars approach down the long gravel driveway and enter the parking lot alongside the building, stopping in front of the large garage door where countless bands once loaded and unloaded music gear. Two young Japanese women exit the first car, while three men exit the second. They all walk over and kneel next to Bradley.
Yumi: So do you think we can rebuild this place?
Bradley: I didn't realize it was in this bad of shape. I mean, it's still standing, but...
Johnny: Admit it, man. This place is torn up.
Tim: I don't know. It's got promise.
Bradley: Yeah, promise as a house for raccoons
Johnny: Raccoons ain't even gonna wanna live in this pit, man. You may as well call in a dozer.
Anders: What was it like before... you know...
Tim: Before we got shut down?
Anders: Yeah.
Bradley: We had a Neve console in there. Two old Studer tape machines, two ProTools rigs, outboard effects modules for days...
Tim: A live room that rivaled The Record Plant...
Bradley: Best damned studio in Chicago. Right here.
Katsumi: So why are we standing out here? Let's see what it looks like inside, shall we?
The young Japanese girl gives everyone a wink, and walks to the large garage door. The rest of the group follows her, and with a heave, they push up the door. Several mice and a couple raccoons scamper away.
Katsumi: The first thing we need are windows.
Yumi: And new locks for these doors.
Tim: Hey, B. What happened to that console?
Bradley: It's in a storage locker, with some of the other gear. The ProTools rigs got sold to pay off some bills.
Tim: Right on. Dude, the desk for the main control room is still here. It's in good shape, too.
Anders: It looks like most of the interior is actually intact.
Johnny: Yeah, but all this wood floor and the wood on the walls is warped to s***. Hope y'all know a good carpenter.
Bradley: Tim, you still know the guy who installed all this before?
Tim: Yeah, but I think he makes cabinets now.
Bradley: Give him a call and see if he'd be willing to come in and fix the wood. See if he knows a drywall guy, too.
Yumi: Sumi and I are going to find a locksmith and a window company.
Bradley: Cool, I'll call an exterminator and see about shutting down the wildlife refuge, and see if we can get a cleanup crew in here. Looks like we're back in business.
Tim, Yumi, and Katsumi start walking towards Yumi's black sedan, already looking up the personnel they were going to need to get the studio back in working shape.
Johnny: Hey, what do want me and this Swedi--
Anders: I'm Icelandic.
Johnny: *rolls eyes* Sorry. Icelandic. What do you want us to do, man?
Bradley: Tomorrow, we're going to have a meeting at the rented space in the city and see where we're at. Did you guys' bands get into town alright?
Anders: Yeah, they're at the hotel.
Bradley: Well, if you want to, head up to the shed and get some practice inm grab some dinner, take in a movie. Remember, we're all going on tour soon, once we know what's happening here with the studios and offices, so this is probably the last rest you're getting for a couple months.
Johnny: Now that's what I wanna hear. Andy--
Anders: It's Anders.
Johnny: Yeah, well, it's easier for me to say Andy. So I'mma call you Andy. You ever play the blues?
Anders: Umm...
Johnny: You like to drink?
Anders: I'm Icelandic. I bleed Vodka.
Johnny: Boy, you an' I're gonna get along just fine.
The two men get in the other black sedan and leave, a Chicago Blues compilation album blaring from the stereo. Bradley takes one long, last look at the building and, smiling, gets into his car an drives toward the city. For the first time in two years, he's hopeful for the future.
