Larry and His Flask, an intro.

“America’s first sports bar”, McGreevy’s, was overthrown by wildmen St Patricks Day weekend. It wasn’t the usual shitfaced-type wildmen, but rather actual living-breathing-instrument-wielding wildmen! Larry And His Flask left their hometown of Redmond OR for Boston (by way of a giant bloodthirsty wolf they had captured for transportation no doubt) to perform upstairs among Beantown’s filthy pub-goers. The guys had set up at the back of the room, and after a quick beard-rally, released their mighty powers upon the bar.
No one was safe from their infectious foot-stomping, hand-clapping anthems. While some where instantly swept by the melody of the bands fast thrash-grass powers, others had to be wrangled by wondering band members. Mesmerized by the rapid double handed finger tapping of a banjo, guitar, and mandolin, audience members became possessed with the spirit of dance when introduced to a rowdy stand-up-bass, and an “I’ll-sit-when-I’m-dead” drum set. They performed on the floor with sweaty dancing people pressed against them. Gravity was defied with rapid change-ups, flying instruments, and both audience and band members climbing up on tables for a better view of the chaos.