If Hansel and Gretel turned their gingerbread house into a punk rock music venue, this would be their debut show. You’re in the front row, raging to the cherry-cola power chords, deep earthy distortion, and the thrumming acidity of the bass line—crowd surfing to the crushed-spice cymbal crashes and vanilla vocal flourishes. Before you know it, you’re backstage with the owners, gorging on sugar-coated strawberries and red rose gumdrops, touring the intricate graham cracker corridors to the sound of guitar solos at breakneck speed. Stay as long as you’d like. Just don’t ask about the previous owner.
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