Saturday, April 5, 2008

Bogus Band Bio #4, part VI: “Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment!”

Previously, on Bogus Band Bio:

“I’m hallucinating,” Steve thought to himself as keyboardist Gregg Rolie started to bang out the opening riff to ‘Don’t Stop Believin’. His eyes turned to the red light bulb above the door to the studio. ‘This has already happened. THIS HAS ALREADY FREAKIN’ HAPPENED!!” Steve yelled, out loud this time, and violently threw his mike stand through the framed pastel portrait of Andy Kim, destroying it instantly.

“Hey, WHOA,” yelled Schon. “A little respect for the mighty Kim, bro! My mother painted that!”

Steve started hyperventilating, and soon fell to his knees.
He had every intention of playing along with this 'dream', he really did. But this was just too surreal to keep up the facade. He could smell the putrid sweat emanating from Schon’s ratty headband (or was it the leather trousers?) for God's sake. And how often does one dream odors, anyway?

Neil Schon once again broke the silence. “This better not be the Peyote, Steve. You signed a waiver!”


Oh, right.

Steve remembered that back in the late 70’s, friend and confidante Gary Glitter gave him some Peyote at one of his famous swinging ‘fish bowl’ parties. Steve had heard of Peyote, but just that it was natural and benign, with an effect not unlike pot. He didn’t realize until it was too late that the main psychotropic ingredient in Peyote is Mescaline, which can be highly addictive. Steve ended up hooked for over 12 months before the band decided to have an intervention. The thought of being forced out of Journey was just too painful, so he agreed to 2 months of rehab (at the "Viv Hashian Clinic For Drug Dependancy") and to sign a ‘Band Document’ (a letter of intent, really), which was the 'waiver' Neil was referring to.

His head started swimming again, but this time he couldn’t breathe. There was something blocking his throat. He tried to cough but all that came out was an ever expanding river of white foam.

“Get an ambulance,” cried Neil.

Then Steve, once again, blacked out.

What Steve couldn’t have known is that the boys were sending him to Lakeview Nervous Hospital, an infamous lunatic asylum run by, reputedly, the Devil himself…

…and now onto tonight’s episode:

The needle containing the salivation inhibitor methohexital plunged deep into Steve Perry’s right thigh, followed by the muscle relaxant suxamethonium.
The nurse, dressed in a blue and green smock casually placed the electrodes on both sides of his head and smiled, slyly. She glanced to her right and nodded. Steve followed her gaze to an unkempt grey haired man wearing a pair of very thick glasses, the right lens cracked down the center, and felt a bead of sweat drip from the tip of his nose. The man positioned himself to Steve’s right and forced a rubber “plug” of sorts into his mouth, holding it in place by securing a leather strap around the back of his head. Once finished he swiftly moves out of Steve’s field of vision.

The former front man for the soft rock band Journey started to feel a little drowsy but was keenly aware of the sound of a switch being thrown and the eerie hum of electricity.

The electrodes deliver a massive electrical stimulus which immediately forces Steve's body into uncontrollable seizure-induced convulsions. His muscles tighten and the metal gurney shakes along in unison with it’s occupant.

After what seems like an eternity (even though it’s only been six seconds) the droning of the ECT machine stops.

“Again.” says the man with the cracked lens. “1400 milliamps.”

“…no…” whispers Steve.

The nurse gives a concerned look, knowing full well that the maximum dose of milliamps allowed by law in the state of California is 800.
But she complies anyway, the man pulls the switch again and Steve, for the fourth time in as many days, loses consciousness...

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