When we last left our heroes, Pat and Murph learned from Chris Parnell that they needed to find Dr. Feelgood in order to bring their bass player Mick back from limbo. Enjoy.
The two non-limboed members of CrossTown Rival knew what was at stake: descend into the seediest, most deplorable excesses of rock and roll, or they’d never see their bass player again. They thanked Chris Parnell for his help, left the apartment, found the closest bar, and spent the next two weeks reveling in nonstop substance abuse and some ill-timed incontinence (Murph: “I never really like Planet Hollywood anyway).
Pat: “Chris let us crash at his place for a while, but as we spent most of our nights in gutters and garbage dumpsters, we didn’t see him much. On one of the few nights we made it home, Chris brought up the fact that the last group to connect with Dr. Feelgood was Motley Crue, who used their audience with the famous scientist to visit the afterlife and, if memory serves me, obtain some sort of property.”
Tommy Lee, Motley Crue drummer: “Yeah, Dr. Feelgood was a special man, man. In those days, bro, Vince was a bit of an agnostic, but Nikki, who at the time was big into some Sub-Saharan transcendentalism thing, turned Mick and me on to the idea of securing our place in the afterlife, like making sure we had a ticket or whatever. He said that the elders of his philosophy actually believed you could travel into the Terra de Morta or whatever and choose the exact space where you would spend eternity, and we were high enough to believe him…Ground Control to Major Tom…Ground Control to Major Tom…Oh sorry, did I just start singing? Totally spaced out on you man.”
Not finding success in their own methods, Pat and Murph put their one and a half minds to the task of studying how exactly Motley Crue took the long winding road toward self destruction town. After reading countless interviews, viewing their “Behind the Music” special, and interviewing groupies and musical contemporaries alike, subtle yet real patterns began to emerge. To their surprise, they found that the exploits of Motley Crue were not the random acts of a bunch of drug-addled oversexed idiots but rather a systematic and highly organized schematic of how they sought to find Dr. Feelgood. In other words, they boys found themselves a map.
Tommy Lee: “Oh, wait can you hang on a minute? I’ve gotta hit the…wait. I don’t remember. So, yeah, the roadmap or whatever was again Nikki’s idea, and it worked like a charm. Truth, Nikki died, used heroin again, and woke up with a needle in his arm, Mick and Vince went off the deep end with alcohol, and me…well…we all know what Tommy Lee did. Yeah. But it was all worth it; I may have lost my ability to smell, blink, or move my toes, but I’ve got a sweet bungalow right by the
The map, nicknamed “The [expletive deleted]-It List,” mandated a number of increasingly deplorable acts in the many facets of the rock and roll lifestyle, including drugs, sex, booze, reckless indifference, casual indifference, assault with animals, improper use of candy bars, public urination, defacement of national monuments, indecent exposure, cautionary tales, and wanton destruction, all of which ultimately leading to them hitting rock bottom. With ever-present yet only recently mentioned roadie Montana Slim subbing in on bass and setting up gigs across the Northeast, Murph and Pat got to work immediately.
Pat: “The first steps were easy. We found every substance listed in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, locked ourselves in a hotel room, and went to town. Next, we started getting groupies for our band by putting up signs outside our gigs that said ‘We have no morals and will soon be famous.’ Finally, I stopped wearing underwear, bought a motorcycle, and cut my hair to look like Billy Idol. I too heard the rebel yell.”
Murph: “Oh man was that great. Here we were doing something good for Mick, and I have a good reason to do every stupid thing my brain could come up with. We played a show in
Pat: “Although I certainly did it, I didn’t much care for the booze, heroin, meth, jet fuel, or expired milk I did. Just not my cup of tea. I did like the ladies though. Not gonna lie, after a show in
Tommy Lee: “CrossTown Rival? The Irishie dudes from
Murph and Pat’s initial successes, though, were soon met by physical, mental, and actual roadblocks (Murph: “Let this be a lesson to you kids out there. Never take horse steroids and hijack a school bus. The cops will find you.”). Increasing medical bills (Pat: “Today, penicillin no longer works for me. It’s pretty sad.”) and court costs forced the band to play upwards of 37 shows a week, leaving little time in the day for their appointed duties. What’s worse, it was becoming harder and harder to top their efforts, leading to Caligula-Thomas-Crowne-Maury-Povich levels of excess.
Murph: “I knew we were getting close when we hit New York for some shows at a hole in the wall called Madison Square Garden. I don’t know,
It looked as though victory was theirs; On June 19th, Murph and Pat triumphantly hit rock bottom, and unlike Murph, Pat can still recall the exact moment: “I can still see it today: there I was, slathered in my own feces, soaked in Mountain Dew, and snorting ants off the sidewalk outside a Denny’s in Toledo, Ohio. Not the good Denny’s in town; the other one. To my left was Murph, high on paint thinner and gun powder, shouting that he was hell-bent on selling his own legs just to get high one more time. To my right, a nineteen year old groupie named Veronica with a hook hand and a bouffant hairdo, drooling all over my arm which seemed to be covered with curing iron burns. My arm, not hers. She may have been married to Murph. There may have been a goat there. I was bald. I have no idea why.” And just as promised, Dr. Feelgood appeared at that very moment.
Will Dr. Feelgood lead Murph and Pat to Mick? Will Mick want to leave limbo? Will their newfound popularity lead to local, regional, or national acclaim? Find out next time in Part 10.