Bear Ghost cried as they meekly tapped out a Spotify bio, pausing every minute or so to recover from a productive sob. Productive in the sense of how many fluid ounces of mucin, glucose, sodium, etc. they produced, but little else. Their fingers pruned to the bone from the tears veiling the keyboard they feverishly clicked away at. The room was dim. An overhead light flickered and danced to an eclectic rhythm of a song that had not yet been written. But would be written. By Bear Ghost, probably. "Why must you torture yourselves?" mewled their manager, fearing for their sanity as they neared day 11 without sleep. His fingers pruned to the bone from his fondest hobby: sundrying plums with his bare hands. Bear Ghost rose to their feet, eyes swollen. They looked calm now. Resigned but resolute. "How else will they know?" they pleaded, faltering as their knees begged to give way. "How else will they know that Bear Ghost is an Adventure Rock band that fuses fun and quirky musicianship with complex melodies, phat harmonies, heavy riffitude, and pop structure to deliver a sound purposely crafted to fill all booties, tall and small, with righteous boogie?" The room was still, but undeniably changed. The air somehow tingling. Light and effervescent with the anticipation of something new, something fresh, something that could maybe, just maybe, save the whole wide world. "You did it," choked their stunned manager. "I'll get the president on the phone."