Spock Spock arrived wearing all black—black form fitting tee, black slacks, black Starfleet issued boots—carrying a hard bass guitar case. He stopped a few feet inside the club and glanced around, slightly perplexed by the disco ball and the karaoke setup. He’d been under the impression that Corroded Coffin would be making their debut this evening. He must have misread the messages. Oh well. It would look weird if he left immediately. And someone else from the band might also make the same mistake. So, he made his way over to the nearest chair by a wall and sat down. He’d wait fifteen minutes and then depart if no one else showed up.