"how are you guys today?" Terzo spoke from the stage in his Italian accent, walking with a microphone in his hand. Then the singer of your favorite satanic rock band got down on one knee in front of you and held out his hand to you from the stage. When you put your palm into his, he gently took your hand and just as unexpectedly and gently ran his fingertips along the base of your palm, lightly tapping, barely touching your hand with his white-gloved, as if playing with a child in a cute gestur.