Mohawk Girl: "Dude, are you going to the punk show tonight?"
Crust Punk: "What show? There's nothing listed on STLpunk."
MG: "Yeah, <\#213>cause this show is too punk for that."
CP: "What do you mean?"
MG: "This isn't some, 'I just dyed my hair black and went back-to-school shopping at Hot Topic insta-punk' kind of place."
CP: "Well, Ms. High-and-Mighty, what's it like then?"
MG: "It looks like it could have been a meat cellar. All the sweat and booze makes it smell kind of like a rotten one, too. It's small and there's no stage. If you can make it down the steep-ass stairs without eating it, you're golden. Then the band is right there, moshing with you as they play. Totally d.i.y., the way it's supposed to be."
CP: "Where's it at?"
MG: "It's in some punks' basement. They call it the Slaughterhouse."
CP: "How'd you hear about it?"
MG: "I saw a flyer."
CP: "So how do you get there?"
MG: "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."