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VFW Show Ends Early When Guy Leaning Against Wall Accidentally Turns on Light Switch

TORRINGTON, Conn. – The 3rd Annual Powerviolence Prom ended earlier than scheduled when an audience member accidentally flipped on the VFW hall lights, instantly triggering everyone in attendance to vacate the venue, sources close to the event confirmed.

“7 songs into our 43-song set and then out of nowhere the fluorescent lights come on and light the place up like a Target,” said Mark Hightower, vocalist of opening band Nailgunner. “At first I thought the cops shut us down. So I started ranting about the oppressive stronghold the police state has on our civil liberties, most importantly, our right to fucking rock. But nobody cared. The room emptied quicker than I could yell, ‘Free Mumia!’ The only ones left were a drunk vet who shit himself and Trevor (Calwell), the scene idiot, leaning up against literally the only light switch in the VFW hall, totally oblivious, playing Wordle on his phone like he knows how to spell and shit.”

Merch guy Gabe Beets recounted how one flick of a switch ended more than just the show.

“I don’t sleep, I don’t eat,” a gaunt Beets mumbled between slurps on a ketchup packet. “I drive the van. Haul gear. Sling merch. Did I mention I drive the van? The only shuteye I get is when Nailgunner plays because no one buys merch during their set. Before or after, either. Anyway, I was dreaming about a full night’s sleep when everything changed in the blink of an eye. My circadian rhythm is fucking trash right now. Guess I’ll ‘Sleep when I’m dead’ as the saying goes, which will probably be tonight when I nod off behind the wheel.”

Bev Littlejohn, adjunct psychology professor and Gem Club president at Tunxis Community College, explained the impetus behind the sudden exodus.

“Textbook classical conditioned response,” Littlejohn said while buffing a geode. “House lights turn on, in this case poorly maintained drop-in fluorescent fixtures with multiple burned-out lamps, and everyone goes, ‘Welp, show’s over!’ Behaviorism at its most basic and punk at its most pathetic. These so-called individuals were a little too quick to take the Pavlovian bait, in my professional opinion. When I got struck by lightning at H.O.R.D.E. Fest in ‘96, you think it stopped me from seeing Rusted Root? You bet your fern it didn’t!”

At press time, despite never having served in the military, the wasted veterans at the bar made Calwell an honorary VFW member for putting an abrupt end to “that godawful horseshit.”