Monday 31 October 2011

Promise & Terror Part 2: Europe 2011 Part 1

Everything in this blog is true.
Some of the names have been changed to protect the guilty.
Along the way you'll hear stories about music, giant spiders, cops, the army, aliens, sea-monsters, escaped convicts and some very good friends. If you were with us on the journey - you'll probably be included somewhere in this blog!
The authorities have tried to keep it all a secret, so feel free to follow it, link it and share it.
The world must know the truth!
Wednesday 14th September:
Guitar - check!
Passport - check!

I heard police sirens and a scream from outside.
I looked out of the window. Explosions. Fires. Broken glass.

Blaze was standing on top of a pile of burning cars - headbanging and shouting 'FREEDOM'

Then ...
"This is the cops! Drop your weapons and come out with your hands up! - This tour must not go on! It's too heavy!"
Blaze kept the cops at bay, while I threw my guitar into the vehicle.
Blaze floored the gas, and we peeled-out in the general direction of Dover - pursued by police cars, helicopters & heavy artillery.

We rolled down the windows and blasted Kiss Alive 2 to block out the sound of gunfire.
We gave the cops the finger, and drove headfirst into a storm.

120 miles later ...
We hit Dover and came out blasting.
We hijacked the ferry & pointed it in the general direction of Dunkerque.
'So long, coppers! See you on the other side'
We sailed across a sea of burning gasoline. These were dangerous waters, but we survived.

US warships strafed us with .50-calibre heavy guns. Russian MiG-35's brought down a firestorm on our heads, and a Japanese submarine slammed two torpedoes into our side.
Everybody was trying to stop this tour!

We collected all the gas and guns we could lay our hands on, and headed in the general direction of Belgium - and then the mayhem really started.

We got to the rendezvous point in good time.
We dug in, camouflaged the vehicle and waited for Nasty Nick Meganck to arrive.

Nick knows the score. He turned up disguised as a world class bass player - ready to unleash violent thunder at any time.
Nick has scary hidden powers. Nick digs cats and Gauloises. Nick is as cold as ice and hotter than hell.
I've seen him decapitate a man with a razor sharp bass solo.

We dodged bullets and headed for a saloon in town to grab a few drinks while we waited for our man to arrive.
The train screeched into the platform at the stroke of midnight. Everything was eerily silent, and we didn't know if our cover was blown.
Then we heard it. Footsteps in the dark.
Shit! We were exposed, and miles from home.

A figure stepped out of the fog. Claudio Tirincanti. Drinking gasoline and smoking cigarettes.
A booze-fuelled, one man war machine. Ready to play drums and go out fighting.
Claudio looked serious. Claudio uses dynamite as drum-sticks, and always keeps a gun under his pillow.

We got back to base and waited in the dark for what felt like hours ....
A coyote called somewhere in the distance, and we knew something was about to happen.
The clock ticked over to 3 am, and we saw the Belgian army advancing over the hill.

A massive blast lit up the sky, and the whole place was bathed in fire and fuel. That was our signal.

The air was filled with the sound of engines, and Freaky Franky Ledoux rolled up in the vehicle screaming for battle. He was dressed like Rambo, with a hunting knife clenched between his teeth, and carrying the scalps of 100 men on his belt.


Franky can kill a man with one finger. Franky eats cars and bleeds whiskey.










A hatch opened up in the vehicle, and the place went stone-cold silent.
A shadow blocked out the moon and people ran for cover.
Sexy Steve Delou appeared. Bare chested, holding a baseball bat and drinking La Chouffe from a skull.
Steve was in no mood for playing games. He took one look around and declared war!

He started swinging, and batted the advancing troops bruised and bloody.
Steve round-housed bus stop windows, and glass-blasted the Belgian army while we piled into the vehicle.
Nick took down whole buildings with bullets and bass, and Franky floored the gas.
Claudio torched up sticks of dynamite from his cigarette, while I threw fireworks and hand grenades out of the window.
Steve jumped in through the hatch like Spiderman, and Blaze fired pistols in both hands and howled at the moon!


Franky burned rubber, and the army ate smoke.
They disappeared in the rearview mirror as we headbanged away into the distance.

We had a rendezvous with some very bad hombres at De Verlichte Geest, Roeselare!
The first gig of the tour.

We rolled up outside the venue nice and early, but they were one step ahead of us.
Who WERE these dudes?
Kill-crazy swordsmen stood ready to fight or die on the deck of a phantom dragon-ship floating on an unholy sea of fog....
The rest of our posse - the mighty MESSENGER from Germany.



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