Miranda Veranda are having some problems at the moment. After a string of sell-out gigs frontman/songwriter/manager Shiloh Manners (that's me) stupidly spent a large chunk of the band's funds on merchandise. The splurge on t-shirts, sweatshirts, and posters left enough cash in the kitty to line-up a couple more dates (perfect opportunities for shifting the aforementioned souvenirs) but, crucially, not enough to rent a decent rehearsal space, or buy depressive bassist Ray the fancy MegaBass he'd been wanting for ages.
As the concerts loomed, Ray's mood plummeted like an apocryphal hotel TV. A tiring fly-posting excursion on D-Day minus 1 (Why-on-Earth didn't I give everyone that day off?) seemed to push him over the edge. Twenty minutes before we were due on stage he did a bunk. The gig and the one following it had to be scrubbed; we lost thousands. To get back into the black I was forced to lay-off our roadie (Ray got the boot too, of course) and sell our van, smoke machine, and fibreglass Stonehenge set. The things we'd worked so long and hard for were gone in an instant. Rock and roll: It's a shit business.