Imagine this: You’ve been let out of your cage, given the keys to an exciting city and free rein in a land far from home.
You’re twenty-seven, not bad looking, in a band playing gigs all over town; the climate is roasting, the girls even hotter. You work for a gangster, his middle-aged wife is after you and so is her multimillion-dollar heiress friend.
You’re paid in cash, you don’t pay taxes; you don’t pay for much at all. You drink, you party, you indulge yourself in a lackadaisical drug-fuelled love spree … You’d have some tales to tell, right?
It’s 1988; Tom Reynolds and Seamus Montgomery experience a turbulent extravaganza in and around this desert town; embroiled with mobsters, drugs, Reggae music, Champagne and armfuls of young ladies. They flout the law, get shot at, steal, blow things up and charm the pants off the locals. We see the depths of their depravity, the enormity of their fun and their souls bared. The girls, the Mother figures, their tyrannical boss, their bandmates, and the total lunatics they encounter along the way; in a hot and spicy, satirical, melodrama crammed with hilarity and pathos that will beg the question why did you never do this yourself?
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