Shermer Grindfest: Allison Reynolds and John Bender start a fucking grindcore band the Monday following their detention.

March 25, 1984. The Reynolds residence

Allison is sitting in her bedroom, chilling out and listening to "Blister On The Moon" by Rory Gallagher's old band Taste, spinning their 1969 debut album. Allison's soft spot was 1960s rock music. Although she constantly quoted David Bowie and called the teachers "human" because they listened to Prince, she never liked any of their music and instead found solace on folk rockers like Bob Dylan, Merle Haggard and Phil Ochs, with the frequent dose of the 1968-1969-era rock that sounds like heavy metal but nobody classifies it as such.

Blister On The Moon was such a song. Allison loved how heavy the song was for it's time period, and felt the lyrics were extremely relevant to Saturday's situation.

So let's have that stiff upper lip, and take a long deep breath

Close your ears, you cannot hear, the rules are all preset

You thought we were illusions, but we meant the word we said

We're in command, you tiny fly, we'll crush you till you're DEAD.

Allison felt that the song's protagonist was Mr. Vernon and the tiny flies were her and the other kids.

Suddenly, someone knocks on her window. Allison gets up and sees what it is.

"Hey come on open this window!", a familiar voice sounds.

Allison sees that it is John Bender. The misfit fucker that spearheaded the Breakfast Club, the group of kids in Saturday detention that entered different but came out united.

"Bender? What, wha..." Allison shrieks.

"I had to find you!"