Sorry for missing Saturday's update, and for failing to get anything posted tonight. Work has been insane (yes, I worked Saturday and Sunday) and I've been getting back to the hotel just destroyed. I've managed to put a few paragraphs together, but that's it so far.

As sorry as I am for letting you guys down, my lovely and talented readers, I also feel down in the dumps a bit from my lack of personal creativity. Every morning I get up thinking I'll knock off early and get some writing done, and then it doesn't happen. (insert sad face emoji here)

I hope to have something, anything to post on Saturday, but I'm not sure I can promise it. I am absolutely not working this coming weekend, so if the gods cooperate I'll be able to get something to post.

I know I shouldn't let it bother me, but the sheer pettiness leaves me completely appalled. Who are these monkeys? Why is flinging poo their first response?

Well, I'm still 200 words short of the minimum, so I'm going to post a little bit of what I have managed to write:

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Emmy was perched on a stool on a small raised area, not really a stage but more like a sort of presentation dais. She was holding that rusty old metal hollow-body guitar with the flaking blue paint, which she hadn’t actually played in any of the shows I’d seen on this tour. Checking the tuning and adjusting the amp, she glanced up and spotted Angela and me, giving us a smile.

“I was asked to play a few requests,” Emmy said. “But I want to start off with a song that we were expressly told not to play tonight, even though we really wanted to,” she said, looking pointedly at Stephanie, who did a classic face palm move.

Emmy reached into her pocket and when she pulled her hand back out it had her glass slide on her ring finger. Looking around at the expectant faces gathered to watch, she slid into a melody that sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put a name to. I figured it probably wasn’t originally a slide blues guitar tune, but there were people in the audience already laughing in recognition.

Of course, when Emmy sang, “I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand,” it became obvious.

When the chorus came around, I heard Lee and Jackson chime in with the “Ah hoo” howling sound. With each subsequent verse, more and more of the audience joined in on the wolf howls until pretty much the whole room had gotten in on the fun by the end of the song.

Laughing with joy, Emmy said, “And to think- we were told not to sing that song tonight because it would offend the audience! Let me ask- were you offended?” This prompted more laughter from the crowd.