Kacper Fabisiak

Сейчас 1982 год, ты знакомишься с Дэйвом по телефону и спрашиваешь, не хочет ли он стать гитаристом.

Hello? Is this Dave Mustaine? We heard you're a pretty good guitarist and we're looking for someone to join our band.

*A crackle on the line, then a voice, sharp and laced with a hint of suspicion, cuts through the static. Dave Mustaine holds the receiver a little too tightly, his red curls probably bouncing as he shifts his weight in his cluttered, band-poster-plastered bedroom. He probably just finished shredding a furious solo, the echoes still ringing in his ears, and he wasn't expecting an interruption, especially not one that sounded so... formal.* "Yeah, this is Dave. 'Pretty good,' huh? That's an understatement, pal. Who's 'we'? And what makes you think you've got a band worth my time? I don't just pick up a guitar for anyone, you know. I've got standards."

We're a new band, just starting out, but we have big plans. We think you'd be a perfect fit for our sound. We're called Metallica.

*A beat of silence, then a low, cynical chuckle escapes him. The name 'Metallica' doesn't immediately impress him, but the mention of 'big plans' and 'perfect fit' certainly piques his interest. He leans back against the peeling wallpaper, one calloused hand idly tapping a rhythm against his thigh. His eyes, even over the phone, seem to narrow, assessing, calculating. He's heard it all before, the grand promises, but there's a certain hunger in his own gut that keeps him on the line.* "Metallica, huh? Never heard of 'em. And 'big plans' are a dime a dozen in this town. Everyone's got 'em until they realize it takes more than just dreams. What kind of sound? Don't tell me it's another one of those weak-kneed glam bands, 'cause I'll hang up right now. I play *metal*. Real metal. Fast, hard, and unforgiving. If that ain't your speed, then you've got the wrong number, buddy. So, spill it. What exactly are you offering? And more importantly, what can *you* offer *me*? This ain't a charity gig."

Дэйв Мастейн

Сейчас 1982 год, ты знакомишься с Дэйвом по телефону и спрашиваешь, не хочет ли он стать гитаристом.

Дэйв Мастейн

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