by Joe Zito
“Cindy! Don’t!” Allison screamed with urgency in her voice at Cindy. “Please Cindy, don’t do it! These fucking freaks are controlling you. They’re no different from Candice or anyone else that pushes you around and tells you that you’re not worth a shit. But you are worth it Cindy.” Allison shook her head slowly back and forth and mouthed the word “Don’t” as her eyes filled up with tears.
Cindy gave her look of confusion and then sadness. She hated to see her friend like this because she really liked Allison. But it was too late. Her mind was made up and she knew what she had to do. No longer would anyone ever push her around and make her feel lower than dirt ever again. She leaned over bringing herself to Candice. Cindy whispered to her, “Just close your eyes and lay very still. This is all going to be over very soon.” Then, that look of sadness of her face turned to a sly, smirk of an evil smile as she looked at Allison and lifted the machete high.
“No Cindy, NO! NO! NO!” Allison frantically pleaded with each ‘no’ getting faster and then Cindy forcefully swung the machete in a fast sideways motion. It made a ‘shwoop’ sound. Devin felt its force as a gust of quick air hit his face. Candice screamed with wide eyes of terror as a wave of blood gushed onto her face and chest and then three dead Gretchen’s wearing masks of the same white color came falling down onto her. Their throats had been slit wide open by the one holding the machete and who was no longer going to be pushed around or told what to do by anyone, be it a slut or three freaks with a fetish for cutting. ‘Slooow Riiide’ came from the small radio in the storage room. But no one noticed because they were all in shock, especially Allison. She covered her mouth and said “Holy Shit!” in a half laughing kind of way. Candice waved her arms wildly and screamed as if warding off spiders from the three Gretchen’s falling onto her. “You’re ok Candice,” Cindy told her very calmly and then began pushing them off of her. Gretchen one was still twitching and grabbing at her throat. But it ceased and she was dead completely as were the other two Gretchen’s.
Cindy slowly stood up. She brushed herself off and moved her hair from her face. She nodded her head looking at the three dead girls in front of her. To Allison it looked as if she was very proud of her work. She was more scared of Cindy now than she was a few minutes earlier. Cindy walked to the door of the storage room and opened it. Everyone except for the dead Gretchen’s was staring at her in disbelief. “Are you ok Cindy?” Allison asked her gently. Cindy didn’t say anything for a moment. She held her head down looking towards the floor. Very meekly and sorrowfully she said, “I’m really sorry I hurt you Candice,” and then looked up at her. “But no one is going to hurt anyone anymore,” she said quietly. “I’m going to get a mop and start cleaning this mess up.”
The Rock and Roll Massacre of ‘76
They called it the devils nightmare or at least that’s what the coroners named it when they autopsied the over one hundred and fifty two victims of the tragic rock and roll massacre of ’76 in a five month span. My name is Doug and I was there that night at the Indiana Convention Center to see Kiss when this frightening event took place. I’ll never forget it, but then how can I when every day I have to see the long, red scar on my arm from some thirteen year old kid in Ace Frehley makeup running up to me like a rabid animal and then begin chewing on my arm. But I’ll get to that later. I found out later that a massive shipment of drugs from the U.K. had brought in this new and very dangerous type of pcp, aka devils nightmare, and had found its way into my home state of Indiana and then the town I live in called Bludenhale, and then unfortunately the Indiana Convention Center. It was a night I’ll never forget.
The house lights of the Indiana Convention Center slowly turned on after Cheap Trick finished their set. Soon after the crowd or rather the Kiss Army I should say, began to chant ‘We Want Kiss’. My best friend Tim and I both joined in. There was no way he and I were going to miss out on seeing Kiss. We did have to beg my older sister Kristen to drive us to Indy though. She was twenty four. Tim and I were both sixteen. She agreed, but to counteract the possible catastrophe of becoming babysitter for her kid brother and his friend, she asked her friend Carrie to come along. She had no problem saying yes because she thought Robin Zander of Cheap Trick was way hot. So here we are, the four of us piled into my sisters 1975 Datsun driving up I-65 to Indy on a late Friday afternoon to see Kiss. It was cool of my sister to drive us. Besides, I knew she really dug Kiss, though she would never admit it. The whole drive up Carrie wouldn’t shut up about Robin Zander and the different schemes she had planned to get backstage. It was rather amusing I thought. But I did hate having to lie to our mother just to get out of the house. “Oh Kristen, that’s so nice of you taking your little brother to see the Osmonds. There are drug dealers at those rock concerts I’m sure, like those devils in that makeup band.” But nonetheless I’m sure Kristen was happy to have Carrie with her so she wouldn’t be stuck with two adolescent boys who will probably see more boobs in one night than they ever will in their whole lives. As we drove along I-65 at least ten cars full of rowdy teenagers had already begun taking the devils nightmare, unbeknownst of its soon to be horrific effects. A plume of pot smoke filled almost the entire main floor of the Indiana Convention Center.
“Well, I gotta make a pit stop to the ladies. I’m a hot wet mess downstairs thanks to Mr. Zander.”
I scrunched my face in disgust at Carrie’s comment. For a second I actually thought maybe she had peed herself, and then it clicked. My sister of course cracked up laughing. When she was done her big sister face turned on. I could already feel her sarcasm before she even said anything.
“Ok boy’s, mommy has to pee. Will you little ones be ok by yourself?”
“Very funny,” I said.
“We’re sixteen, not ten,” Tim told her.
“Whatever dorko,” she said rolling her eyes, “And no looking at boobies while we’re gone.” She said it pretty loud to so the people around us could here. I could feel my face turning red and I smacked my hand over my face trying to hide my humiliation.
Somewhere there must have been a rule written that older sisters are obligated to embarrass, harass and terrorize their kid brothers. I think Kristen wrote it. But as they walked away I felt a slight panic and a sense of dread come over me. I guess the idea of her leaving us there alone like that kind of made me a little angry, but really just freaked out. She turned around and mouthed “stay put, don’t move” with a motherly point of her finger. It dawned on me then of how my sister could just up and leave us alone. Really? Who does that? It was 1976 though and I guess the thought of Tim and I getting kidnapped or mugged was just an afterthought. Hole in the Sky by Black Sabbath started playing on the pa.
So there Tim and I were, alone amongst all these pot smoking rock fans. I started feeling very hot all of a sudden, almost like I could pass out. I turned around and saw a sea of people behind me. The thought of getting crushed or trampled by all those people made my stomach hurt. This wasn’t like going to the Bludenhale flea market on a Saturday afternoon where there were a few hundred people or so. This was jam packed. Then from somewhere I heard a small roar come from the crowd. Someone yelled, “Show it all honey!” On the same night that one hundred and fifty two people died, my best friend and I saw our first pair of boobs. Real boobs, in the flesh right in front of us. The fear of being crushed faded away.
I thought of Kristen and Carrie making their way through throngs of people out in the concession area. I could just imagine all the long hair, blue jean jackets, seven inch heels, kids in Kiss makeup and all the leftover glitter types from the Bowie era of ’73, all walking around shoulder to shoulder. I could imagine the conversations to: Hey man did you get the stuff?....I was so wasted last weekend….I heard it’s a cows tongue….and then he said, ‘we’re gonna need a bigger boat….it’s called punk and it sucks….she murdered all three of them in that garage the crazy ass bitch! Kristen later told me that a fight had broken out in the ladies room which was non-ventilate
d. Imagine that, a bunch of hot and bothered, angry females on a Friday night at a Kiss concert in 1976.
Back on the main floor Tim and I waited patiently for Kiss to go on. I figured it would still be a while since there were roadies all over the stage.
Tim said, “Let’s go check out the t-shirts.”
“No way man, I’m not losing my spot,” I said to him.
Anyway, I had the image of voluptuous mounds of bouncing flesh to keep my mind occupied for the time being.
Sweet Lady by Queen started on the pa and a big beach ball appeared out of nowhere. Another roar came from the crowd and hundreds of hands went up in the air for a game of rock and roll volleyball. Everywhere I looked, it seemed like everyone had a joint in their mouth. I’ve heard of contact highs before but didn’t think it was possible; although I did feel a lot more relaxed and at ease. It was probably the boobs that Tim and I saw more than likely.
Just then I felt a hand touch the back of my head. I could feel fingers sliding smoothly through my hair. I turned and there were these two girls wearing cheap looking white fur coats and had way too much makeup on. They were wearing tall, black high heels. Not the Kiss kind but the woman kind. One girl had ultra-curly blonde hair and the other straight black hair. She reminded me of Cher.
The blonde whose cherry red lips were smacking away on a piece of gum, looked at me and said, “You want a handjob honey?”
I must have looked like a goosed owl because my sixteen year old eyes blew up in surprise. Tim and I just looked at each other and shrugged. I noticed some people looking over at us to.
“I can sneak you into the ladies restroom and I can do it right there in one of the stalls.” Smack smack smack her gum went.
“What?” I said stupidly. Then the people staring at this sexual offering started laughing probably because I was just some kid.
She continued with, “How would you like that, smelling all those females while I rub all over you.” Her puffy red lips curved upward into a smile. “Or I could do it right here in front of everyone.”
I was beginning to feel hot again. There were so many people around us all clustered together like sardines. I felt embarrassed but have to admit the things she was telling me did sound somewhat appealing however gross or weird they were. I would never go through with it though. Anyway I politely told her, “No thanks,” and that got some major laughs from the people watching. I didn’t realize I told her ‘no thanks’ the way you would tell your waitress at the waffle house ‘no thanks’ when she asks you if you want a refill.
Then someone said, “Leave the kid alone you skanks.”
The blonde yelled back, “Whatever fuckface!”
Right then a couple older guys in jean jackets about my sisters age came up to me and Tim and the handjob honeys in the fur coats.
He said, “Take a hike ladies. These boys aren’t interested in catching the crabs.
She responded, “Excuse me but who the fuck are you?”
The guy looked at me and winked.
“I’m there uncle and I promised their mom I would get them home in one piece.”
The blonde laughed and said, “Honey I was just trying to have a little fun that’s all.”
Her and her gal bailed, probably onto their next victim. As she walked away she gave me a jerking off gesture with her hand and said, “I’ll be around if you change your mind.” Smack smack smack.
“You fellas all right?” Someone asked but I didn’t know who. Then a woman standing in front of us with her boyfriend’s arms around her turned to us and said, “They were ho’s man.”
I suddenly felt safe and protected by these strangers as if they were watching out for us. I thought of how wrong my mother was about her assumptions of the kind of people that go to these events. But now I just wanted to thank that guy that helped us out.
“Wow, thanks man,” I told him.
“No prob. We saw them going in for the kill. Those kind are always at these big shows. Chances are they don’t even own a record player or even know one Kiss song. My name is Phil and this is Greg.”
They extended their hands and we shook them.
“You guys want a cigarette?” He asked.
“That’s ok. I don’t smoke,” I told him.
“That’s cool. You want us to hang out until your dates get back?”
“What?” I said.
“Yeah, those girls you are with. They are your girlfriend’s right?”
“Hell no! That’s my sister and her friend.”
Now I know you don’t have to be a genius to know why two twenty four year old guys would ask two sixteen year old kids if ‘those girls you are with’ are your girlfriends while you’re at a concert. I may have been sixteen but I wasn’t stupid. Of course these guys have been checking out my sister and her Robin Zander loving friend and were interested. And speak of the devil.
“I thought I said no talking to strangers,” Kristen said from behind me.
Despite her sarcasm, I was happy to see her. I would be even happier to see her alive by the end of the night.
Ok, so big deal. These guys were checking out my sister when Cheap Trick was playing and when I got into my scuffle with the handjob honeys, it was their grand opportunity to make their move. So then my sister proceeded to do all the things that girls do when they like a guy. Such as play with her hair, swing her hair, laugh in that higher than usual voice, playfully slap the guys shoulder at one of their stupid jokes. And Tim and I had to witness it all. I thought she looked dumb, like she was dancing or something. Plus she kept sticking her tongue out at me in between her goofy, flirting dance with Phil. Maybe she did know that he was checking her out during Cheap Trick. But what she didn’t know as well as the rest of us was that during Cheap Trick, twenty two more people ingested the deadly pcp devils nightmare and would soon be ripping this arena apart, even more than Kiss.
“So let me get this straight. Your mom thinks you are at a freaking Osmonds concert right now?” Phil laughed. “She has to know that the Osmonds don’t play this late.”
Kristen had her arms crossed and gave me a smirk, “Well I told her that I would take them out for pizza afterwards and that we might be a little late.”
“And you drove them here after covering for them about the Osmonds?” Phil asked.
“Yep” Kristen said, now smiling at me.
Phil put his arm around me and said, “You sir have and awesome big sister.”
I couldn’t help but smile bashfully because it was pretty cool that she agreed to drive us up here and then chaperone us all night.
“Yeah well he can be a little shit sometimes but he is my kid brother, and I love’em,” Kristen smiled.
Just then a dj from one the local radio stations walked on stage. He had a big brown mustache and wore a hat with the stations logo on it. Next to him was a very attractive woman in the shortest shorts I’ve ever seen. Even shorter than the ones that psycho was wearing when she murdered her best friend in the town I live in two years ago. The woman was holding a sign but I couldn’t make out what it said. The dj spoke into the mic.
“Sorry folks but Kiss had to cancel tonight, so instead we’ll be seeing Crosby, Stills and Nash.”
What a lame brain I thought. He was greeted with empty and full beer cups and many middle fingers.
He laughed and said, “Settle down now, just kidding folks. Kiss is here tonight and they’re going to tear the roof off this place!”
A hearty roar came from the crowd and a thousand hands went up in the air.
“But first we want to let you know about the Blue Oyster Cult ticket giveaway we have next…..” He trailed off about BOC (who I heard put on an awesome laser light show) and made some more lame jokes.
“Hey little brother, will you be ok by yourself? I think we’re going up in the bleachers,” Kristen said.
“Yeah sure, I guess,” I told her. But my guess was she didn’t want to be around a bunch of rowdy kids when Kiss hit the st
age.
“I mean we can stay down here if you want us to,” she said.
“No that’s ok.” I knew she wanted to be with Phil.
“You can see the seats right up there. We’re not that far.” Kristen pointed to the seats which really were not that far away.
I nodded and she said with a smile, “You’ll be all right. You’re almost eighteen.”
And I said, “Yeah in like two years.”
She frowned a bit and said, “Are you sure it’s ok?”
“Yes, jeez, we’ll be fine.”
“Ok thanks!” She said quickly just as I finished my sentence. She gave me a peck on the cheek. I felt my face turn hot. It must have been blood red with embarrassment. I watched Kristen and Phil along with Carrie and that other guy, (oh yeah Greg) make their way through the crowd and up to the bleachers. Carrie was probably thinking that Greg wasn’t Robin Zander but he’ll do for tonight. Kristen turned around and did another one of those sharp points at me mouthing, ‘stay put, don’t move’, and pointing at the bleachers ‘right up there’. I just threw my arms up and said, “Ok, ok, jeez!”
The dj left the stage and the crowd was ready to see Kiss. The anticipation and excitement in the crowd was electrifying. The stage began filling up with fog as Bad Motor Scooter by Montrose played on the pa. And then the lights went out.
Boob, boobs and more boobs! I’ve never seen so many damn boobs. Boobs in front of us, boobs to the left and right, and even better we had Kiss on stage. Kiss and boobs, Kiss and boobs! Holy halleluiah it was awesome. Stage lights colored red, blue, green and yellow shined on the crowd as members of the Kiss Army passed joints around to each other, and my sixteen year old hormones bathed in the glory of rock and roll hedonism of blood, fire, explosions, volume and boobs, boobs, boobs!
