It seemed he wasn't needed for the opening. Angelo was totally cool with this, as it meant he could spend time with the others and not have to worry about the next time he met Enzo; if the bastard kept up his dick-headedness, Angelo would make sure he would refrain from trying his luck again.<br/><br/>He'd watched Agatha's show, and smiled a bit at her victim's terror. That Agatha always had to leave once she'd scared someone witless always was a cause for mild concern to Angelo, although he figured that she could, eventually, get over it. It would take some time, but he had faith. She'd sat at the opposite end of the backstage as the others, who'd started to smoke up a storm, save Adrian, who'd just arrived there. He approached them, his natural smell of nitro glycerin hanging about him as usual, strong enough to overpower most of the cigarette smoke. Coming up from behind, he clapped a hand over Adrian's shoulder and said laughingly, "<span style="color: red">Ah, you don't know stink until you've had to set up one of my bigger shows. The sulfur and phosphorus are downright repulsive unless you're a pyrotechnician and used to the stuff. Cigarette smoke is a welcome relief to a full day of brimstone and salt.</span>"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>