A hiss pierces the air as music fans wait in line outside the Brooklyn Bowl in Williamsburg. Across the street from the venue, a man stoops over his tank, inflating balloons and passing them to his associates by the fistful. He shuts off the valve and surveys the scene. Deciding his handlers are moving too slowly, he picks up the tank and slams it against the corner of the warehouse, sending a shrieking echo into the night. “I don’t see you working fast enough!” he yells. Then he unleashes an exploding stream of gas into the air, rapidly firing
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