Chapter 3- Calling Dr. Love
"Okay. Now, we have 3 hours to wander around Detroit. First thing, Vinny, we need you to give us the tickets." Dave said.
Vinny went into the glove compartment. No tickets.
"Uhm… Pop the trunk." He said, nervously. He checked the trunk, but with no avail.
"Check your clothes." He asked, breaking into a sweat. They checked their clothes.
"Anyone got them?" He asked.
"Nope."
"None."
"Nuh- uh."
"Nada."
Eddie looked totally pissed off. The whole group stood in silence, until finally Eddie lost it and pounced on Vinny.
"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" He yelled, choking his friend. Dave and Beth got on one side, and Chris got on the other and pulled Eddie off of Vinny.
"Dude, forget it. We have 3 hours left to get tickets. We *are* going to that concert, and we *are* going to have a kick-ass time!" Dave said.
They all split up, save for Beth, Dave, and Chris who were together, for the moment.. They looked over a little and saw a gathering of women near a church. They realized that it was 'MATMOK' of 'Mothers Against The Music Of KISS.' They walked closer and noticed that Chris's mother was there. She noticed her son and ran up to him.
"I don't want to even think about how you got here, but you are coming with me!" She yelled, dragging him into the church.
"Father, Please, you have to help my son! He's trying to go to a Kiss concert!" She said.
"Okay. Come back later!" The minister said.
Chris was put into the confessional and he waited for the minister.
"Forgive me father, for this is my first confession in a really long time."
"That's quite okay, son. Now, do you have anyting else to confess, rather than losing KISS tickets? Like, I don't know, Carnal Knowledge with the neighborhood girls?"
"No. Just the tickets." Chris said, with disgust in his voice.
"Well, I think that you should come up with something more juicy than KISS tickets." The minister said, slamming the window shut.
"Fuck." He whispered, hitting his head on a lamp.
Just then, a girl came into the confessional. He recognized her as the girl he was in love with. "Christopher?"
"Karley? Are you waiting for a confession? I thought you were Jew-"
"I love you, that's all I want to confess." She said, kissing him, and pulling him to the floor.
Meanwhile:
Beth and Dave were walking around together, when they came across a guy hawking tickets.
"Hey, you lovely couple." The guy said, not noticing the blushing that came from the teens. "Wanna buy two tickets to see the greatest fuckin' rock and roll band ever?" He asked.
"How much?" They asked.
"Ehhh, couple's special. 75 bucks a ticket." He said.
"All I got's 100." Dave said.
"Well, you can get the money across the street. They're havin' a strip contest. All you gotta do is drop your pants, shake your ass, and get paid an extra 100 bucks."
Dave turned even redder. "Man, I have stage fright… And, they're playing fucking Disco in there!" He said.
"Shit or get off the pot!" The guy said.
Dave smiled. "Sure thing!"
He and Beth walked across the street into a little strip joint called 'It's Raining Men!' Dave shuddered a little as he realized what he was doing, and exactly who was going to watch him strip. He handed the guards his and Beth's fake ID's, and they accepted them. They went in and Dave winced as he saw the almost naked stripper on stage.
"Oh God. I have to do this?" He asked.
They sat down at the bar, where a shirtless muscular guy named 'Dickey' waited on them. "Anything you want to drink?" He asked them.
"Man's drink." Dave said.
"Wine Cooler." Beth said.
They were served and Dave went to pay him.
"Lady at the end of the bar, sends her love." Dickey said.
Dave looked over to a gorgeous blonde woman, who was sitting seductively with one knee bent, and resting on the stool next to her, and the other stretched out onto that stool.
He smiled and turned back to his drink. He sipped it and then spit it out in a fury.
"What the hell is this?" He asked, wiping his mouth.
"Bourbon on the rocks." Dickey said.
Amanda, the girl across the bar smiled slightly.
"Whoa. I think it's gone bad!" He said.
Just then, the man introduced him. "If you like birds, then you'll like this," He began pointing to his own pants. "It's just a swallow." The crowd of horny women laughed at this joke. "Give a round of applause for 'Hawk'." He said.
Dave panicked. That was his name! "Oh, shit!" He whispered.
"C'mon! Don't be a wussy!" Dickey said.
Dave grinned. "I won't Dickey!" He said, putting his arm in the air to signal his readiness. He stood up, took a step towards the stage, and fell.
Vinny walked past the same man that was hawking tickets.
"Hey, man. Wanna buy two tickets to see the greatest fuckin' rock and roll band ever?" He asked.
"Naw, man. I'm gonna find some kids and beat the shit outta them for their tickets."
"Fuckin' Burnout!"
Vinny ignored this and continued on down the street until he reached a convenient store. He first noticed the kids outside. They had a Stretch Armstrong toy and were stretching it as far apart as they could.
"Hey you little fuckers! Gimme your Kiss tickets, or pay the price!" He said.
"We don't have Kiss tickets. Kiss Sucks!" The brats said.
Vinny grabbed their toy. "You'd better run before I knock you silly for saying that!" He said, as they ran off. He put the toy into his pocket and entered the store. He headed to the back where he saw a little blond boy.
"Awww, fuck! That was my last ball!"
"Hey, you little Punk! Gimme your KISS tickets or your life!"
"My big brother is holding onto them for safekeeping. Let me get him for you!"
He turns around to face the front of the store.
"HEY CHONGO!"
A 6'5 man turns around. He must weigh about 250, give or take. Vinny's eyes widen as he realizes one thing.
He's in deep shit.
Eddie walked around to try and sneak in. He managed to hop the fence inside and walk around, but some security officers found out that he didn't have a pass on. He picked up Peter Criss' bass drum and carried it on his shoulder to hide his face from the guards. He lost his balance and then he dropped the drum and it rolled into one of the amps, causing it to be blown out.
The security guards chased him, but the chase was two middle-aged old men versus a young, able-bodied man. You do the math. Anyway, Eddie slid down the rail between two escalators, which neither of the men could do. He fell into a pile of hookers, and the whores all began to fight. When the men separated all the girls, they realized that he was nowhere to be found.
"Now where the hell is he?"
They began to run, and Eddie grinned as he looked down from a ledge above them. He snaked his way onto a heating ducks and crawled along that until he came to a backstage party. He watched as some groupies went into Kiss' trailer.
"God, what I wouldn't give to be in that trailer." He whispered. Just then, he looked down into a hot tub with one guy, and plenty of women. "Lucky Bastard." Just then, the heating duct fell. He heard the bolts flying out, and finally the whole contraption fell, taking him into a huge Ice sculpture. The guards caught him and threw him over a fence into an alleyway.
"Shit."
End Chapter 3-
So, what do you think? I'm having fun with this fic. The next chapter is the rest of these mishaps. I.E. you'll getthe conclusion of Dave and his striptease (!), Vinny and his Smiley Mart problems, Eddie and his backstage sneak, and of course, Chris and the confessional.
It's still small, and has a few bugs, but missmarymolkoer.moonfruit.com
It's my website, and I need fanfics to put up. Submission info is there, so….
Last thing… I'm becoming more and more interested in poetry lately, and two of my favorite poets are Jim Morrison, and Dylan Thomas. Since I packed up my Jim Morrison poetry book, then I'll have to give you Thomas' 'Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night'.
Disclaimer: Written By Dylan Thomas, published in 1952.
"
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night.Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'"