Welcome back. We visited the maelstrom that was Hoover last night, capping off the opening day's activities with a frantic story of maniacal glee. Day two was even more boisterous. Here are our favorite moments.
The lights dim gradually over a span of five seconds. Fog machines pump away as neon beams trace their way frantically through the shrouded confusion. There is a steady, single drum beat. Someone begins clapping, and the crowd instinctively picks up. The light beams go out. The fog disappears and the lights come on just as the opening drum beat of Queen's "We Will Rock You" thunders over the PA. It's time.
The large, well-built man entered the studio. It was nearly deserted. He cautiously approached the main set, where only a young, dapper red-haired man in an expensive suit sat smiling at the anchor's desk. He affably waved the large man over. He gestured to the seat beside him. Sit down, sit down, he is imploring. The well-built man is leery, but the dapper man is so friendly. Tentatively, he sits.
The whoopee cushion was so well-hidden beneath the cushion mechanism of the chair that it's almost as if it were on a delayed fuse. A heartbeat later there is a brief whooshing and then a guttural ripcord noise that sounds like an outboard motor catching.
"EXCUSE YOU," says the dapper red-haired man. He is quite pleased with himself.
PF: Are you really going to be non-combative today?
KS: Are you going to not troll anyone today?
That's enough work. Party time.