xxiv courts red cap and a yellow cartoon bomb shirt winding and knotting and sweating , his face strained , nerves popped in his neck like solid curtain rods , then a side to side stomp , like samson about to rip the columns , then a violent yank at the black cord on the amp , its plug the force of a bullet , the cord whipping around nathans own neck him ignoring it , the shove of the guitar into the bass drum did nothing to disrupt the loops , but he left it there .