A Montreal promoter is thinking of calling it quits after his last illegal squat party crashed and burned. Like most of his parties, this bash was an off the grid free for all that didn't cost a single red cent to attend. He threw the party on the second floor of an out of the way, abandoned bakery over in Verdun.

There was plenty of drugs, booze, and sex on hand, but he expected that. Hell, those vices are half the reason he throws these little parties. What the promoter didn't expect was for his gas generator to start leaking midway through the night. The generator was initially placed next to the DJ booth, but when the room started reeking of gas, he tucked it away in what used to be the bakery's freezer room. Shortly after he set the generator up in this poorly ventilated location, several acid heads decided to drop in and turn the place into a make-out room. When the promoter tried to shoo them away for their own safety, they got indignant and started yelling at him.

Instead of fighting with them, he decided to move the generator to an even more remote area of the bakery -- a backroom that was impossible to get to without walking over a sea of broken shards of glass. The room had a small window that lead out to the fire escape, and he decided to place his generator on its sill.

Later that night, the cracked out ravers who had given the promoter a hard time decided, for reason's of their own, that they were expert mechanics. They trekked out to the backroom to try and fix the leaky generator. They failed. Miserably. One of the wunderkind raver mechanics tripped over the power cable, which accomplished three things: it brought the music to an abrupt end, it shut the lighting off, and it sent the man hand first into the sea of glass that covered most of backroom's floor.

The promoter rushed to his generator to try to get the power back on. He quickly jumped over the fallen raver, who was bleeding everywhere, though you could hardly tell in the darkness of the room. The promoter got his hands on the cable that the drugged out mechanics had unplugged, and right when he was about to turn the power back on, he heard a terrifyingly loud and agonizing scream of pain. He was so startled by the yell that he accidentally pushed the generator off the window sill and on to the fire escape, which was apparently falling to pieces, because when the generator landed on it, the whole thing collapsed. The generator and a chunk of the fire escape hit the ground with a thunderous boom, a noise that was loud enough to get the attention of a police car that just happened to be passing by the building when all of this went down.

He looked out the window in shock, then quickly turned around when he saw that the cops were about to park their car. This was when he found out what had caused the blood curdling yell that had precipitated this disaster: one of the wounded raver's friends had decided that glow stick fluid would make an excellent healing balm for his cuts. After he managed to break one in half, he started pouring its raver juice over his wounded friend's hands. The moment the toxic goo hit those cuts, the guy started yelling out in pain. The promoter was baffled by their stupidity, but he didn't have the time to deal with them. The cops were on their way, and he had to get as much of his equipment out of the place before the cops got there.

Everyone managed to escape, though the wounded raver had to have his hands treated at a hospital. The promoter, meanwhile, didn't lose anything besides a few lights and a crappy generator. Well, that's not entirely true. He also lost a great deal of respect for the rave scene. He'll probably get over it though. After all, most ravers aren't stupid enough to think that glow stick goo has medicinal properties.

Right?