The band booked for Ethan Blount’s premiere after-party at the Viper Room was obnoxiously loud, playing instruments that were horrendously off-key, and singing lyrics that were noticeably obscure. That didn’t seem to matter to the crowd, which was primarily made up of studio wonks; the few actual live actors who had starred in Ethan’s latest special-effects-laden abomination; other actors, directors or writers who needed to be out and about hyping their own upcoming projects; all the usual suspects who show up at promotional freebees (a Paris Hilton or two, a couple of Tom Arnolds, a few Survivor contestants, and the last three Bachelors); Ethan’s fan club members who were fluent enough in Klingon to have deciphered the anonymous email, circulated surreptitiously, that had contained the party’s pertinent who-what-where info (hacked from the studio’s promo department’s computer files); and of course, members of the Posse. That is, everyone was there but Mick.
