TOUR CANCELLED!!!
Thunderchicken Violated!!!
Ron and Pat Witness Penn State Massacre!!!
What the Hell is wrong with Ken?
Scott's Gizzard; Will He Live?
What Now?
TOUR CANCELLED!!!
Well, so much for the big touring plans. Just two weeks into a two month tour, Kill Creek was forced to rush Scott home for emergency surgery. Heroin? Nope. Suicide? Nope, sorry. Kill Creek has been ground to a hault by Scott's gizzard. None of that fancy Rock 'n' Roll mythology for Kill Creek; they leave too many dead bodies in their wake sober. Anyhow, after Scott's tubing gets chopped out, Kill Creek will ship out again, just in time for more winter tragedy. There will be a few dates in October in the midwest, but Scott can't be too far from home, lest he go and try to die on the road again. The story of this past week's touring could fill a theatre, so here's goes:
Thunderchicken Violated!!!
Kill Creek dove headstrong into their Eastern voyage by herding their Gold-Bonded butts from Lawrence, Kansas to New York City for the CMJ Music Seminar. Pat drove the entire way, 22 hours straight, which he accomplished by wrapping a shirt around his head and looking like a complete idiot. At the big Rock Industry Gathering, they exchanged niceties with college radio jocks and Rock Industry Gatherers. They "Just Said No" to heroin, and ate at a fancy restaraunt instead. At their Rock Industry Showcase, they played with vigor and enthusiasm along with their fellow label-mates The Melvins, Pure, and The Backsliders. Ron, Ken, and Scott had colds, but nothing could stop them. Scott met Norb.
A few days later, after driving through the tortuous "Hurricane Fran," Kill Creek found themselves in Washington D.C., where the Mayor smokes crack. Apparently, thieves in Washington D.C. need haircuts, potassium, and Scott's beautful chrome and blonde Telecaster; because on September 11th, some disrespectful (and shaggy) criminal violated their precious
Thunderchicken, and stole bananas, hair shears, and Scott's favorite guitar. The police were kind and helpful, which was not consistent with any real-world situation that the boys had faced before. They visited their friend Sharri for five days, which was also unlike any real-world situation that they had faced before. With the first crisis of the tour tucked under the 'Chicken's wing, they slogged through Fran's ass-end, and headed out to play shows in Baltimore, Ocean City (where they killed Spiro T. Agnew 20 minutes before leaving town), Harrisburg, Philadelphia, Richmond, and State College, Pennsylvania. They shouldn't have.
Ron and Pat Serpentine Around Penn State
It was Scott's turn to drive forever, and drive he did. After a few wrong turns and detours (Pat fell asleep instead of navigating), Scott made the trip from Richmond to State College, Pennsylvania in a sluggish 10 hours. Having left the night before, this dragged the violated 'Chicken into town around 9:00 a.m., Tuesday the 17th. Scott promptly fell asleep.
The weather was miserable, and a slow, steady rain fell throughout the day. Thirty minutes after arriving in State College, Ron and Pat nearly tripped over the corpse of a woman that had been gunned-down just minutes earlier by a female mohawked freak with an automatic rifle that unloaded a full clip at random, mowing down two students as Ron and Pat walked up the hill hoping to find a phone. Suddenly, the city was in shock, and the Red-Cross had to bring in banks of cell-phones to accommodate the students, who were desperately calling loved-ones and roommates to confirm their vitality. People were sobbing and gawking, and the police roped off about half of the campus.
Scott woke up at noon in the van, unaware of the excitement on campus, and went to find coffee. While he was sitting under an awning, sipping his coffee and watching a town fall apart, Scott was approached by a couple who showed him a picture of their 16-year-old daughter who had attempted suicide weeks earlier, and had run away from home the day before Kill Creek's arrival. Apparently she was a live music fan, and frequented the club they were scheduled to play that night. Scott told them that he had just driven into town, but that he would keep an eye out during the show. The woman started crying, and hugged him. Scott was taken off-guard, and just stood listless. Her husband apologized. Scott continued sipping.
What the Hell is Wrong with Ken?
Throughout the tour, Ken had latched on to a pretty keen idea: Real Estate. After months of deliberating the chore of having to work for money, Ken bought an infomercial-ish "Be a Real Estate Mogul in 30 Days; No Money Down!!!" cassette and workbook, a brought it on our journey. Slowly we found ourselves nurturing the aspirations of an all-new Kenny Trump; the man was inspired.
Inspired or not, Ken didn't take the shootings in stride, and instead of laughing it off, he left us a note with a reference to Disneyland. After driving through Hurricane Fran, having the van broken into in D.C., and having to struggle one day without his $15 daily allowance, Ken wasn't in the right frame of mind for a campus massacre. Besides, Scott was fixin' to die, and what good is a band to an enterprising young real-estate mogul if it doesn't have a singer / scapegoat?
Scott's Gizzard; Will He Live?
While Ron and Pat were still shaking the willies from their eyeful of death, Scott got a stomach-ache. Convinced that it was not a serious indication of complications with his progressive small-intestine disintegration (Crohn's Disease for those of you medical-types), he tried Tums and Pepto to no avail. At about 6:00p.m., he paged his doctor in Lawrence. By 10:00, he couldn't move. At 12:30 a.m., he was begged by his doctor in Lawrence to go to the emergency room. Scott was admitted at 2:10, and assigned a room next to a female mohawked freak. Cops were everywhere. Scott made a joke about Theresa Bickle (a reference to "Taxi Driver" Travis Bickle), and was treated like shit by the staff from then on. They wanted to cut him open right there, but he was scared of them, so he insisted on leaving. They made him sign a form that said that Scott knew that he would die. Scott signed it and made another joke, this time about how he was scared that they would accidentally kill him even if he only let them cut his toenails, let alone pull out his gizzard. They gave him his X-rays, and again informed him that he was likely to die in transit to Lawrence. Scott booked a $600 flight from Pittsburgh to K.C. that would have him home in six hours. Scott missed the flight by not estimating the drive to Pittsburgh correctly, and arrived home by Thunderchicken after 20 hours. Despite the State College doctor's best wishes, Scott survived the trip.
What's Next?
Well, for now, Scott has to take it easy, and eat a bunch of steroids. He needs surgery very soon, in which a surgeon will remove .5 meters of puss-filled, scar-damaged, and grotesquely swollen small intestine (Cool! Let me see!). There is no cure, but the surgery will reduce the life-threatening aspects, so he can go back on tour until it progresses again. The recovery period is quite long, so don't expect a major tour before late November.
There is nothing anyone can do to save Ken. We will reveal the name of his replacement in future updates.
[9.24.96]
