I’m reminded, watching the Mötley Crüe movie on Netflix, how awkward band fights can be. There are a lot of things to consider about choosing your moment, but none more real than the knowledge that somehow you are going to have to get all your gear home.
You can’t just tell everyone to go fuck themselves and storm out. Make sure you’re mad enough that you’ll be able to rant and shout while carefully winding up guitar cables or taking drums off their stands and placing them carefully in their cases. If you tell everyone what you think of them and then meekly and carefully pack your gear it will lessen the impact significantly.
Drummers, you will most likely have to make at least three trips to carry all your shit out, so you’ll want to be angry enough to pick up your ranting and shouting each time you re-enter the club or practice space.
If you spent your last dime on a huge amp that requires two people to carry, you might have to only tell part of the band exactly what you think of them, thus preserving some good relationship with someone who can help you schlep your amp.
Of course, it helps if you had the money to add casters to your amp, but that only works in places where there’s a smooth rolling surface from the scene of the fight all the way to your vehicle, which is TV studios and sports arenas: nowhere else.
Choose your moment, people.