A Stray Cat Struts by Slim Jim Phantom Read Free Book Online Page A

everywhere. He turned out to be the perfect choice.
    The record did very well, and we had lived up to all the hype. We toured the UK and Europe, Japan, Australia, and New Zealand to sold-out, rowdy crowds, and positive reviews followed everywhere. There was a strong buzz about the Cats all over the world.
    We were playing a show at the Royal Court Theatre in Liverpool in 1981. This is a classic, faded-glory, old venue that has hosted every type of showbiz event, from Victorian dance hall vaudeville to punk rock shows. It definitely saw its share of Beatlemania. I was happy to be there. It was our second tour of England; we were in the charts and riding high.
    The next day, at the same theater, there was to be a taping of the long-running British game show 3-2-1 . It was a typical old-school quiz show with regular couples answering questions for money and prizes. An early culture shock observation was the difference between the prizes on American game shows and UK ones. On the American ones I had grown up on, the prize could be a car or a vacation to Hawaii with $10,000 to spend. In England, the contestants were battling for a mini refrigerator, a trip to Stratford-upon-Avon, and fifty pounds to spend on the holiday. The questions on the UK show seemed harder, too. This show featured celebs of the day in little sketches between the question rounds and singers miming along to current hits. There was a TV crew there preparing for the next day’s show. Everyone stayed out of everybody else’s way.
    The mascot and costar of the show was Dusty Bin. He was a crude robot in the shape of a garbage can that looked like the little rolling robot in Star Wars . I can’t remember exactly, but I think he was operated by an off-camera puppeteer with remote control. I do remember thinking he was pretty lame. The fact that thirty-five years later, I’m still referring to it as “he” is definitely lame. I know now that he was a beloved character and a national treasure. Dusty arrived on our show day with his own handler and was put in one of the dressing rooms. At the time, I made fun of everything that wasn’t Gene Vincent or Eddie Cochran. This is pre– Spinal Tap, so maybe those guys experienced a similar thing. I thought it was amazing that a large puppet had a personal roadie and dressing room. So, for a laugh, I decided to kidnap Dusty Bin. I didn’t think too much about it. There was no ransom demand or terms for release. I just put him in a different room on a different floor. At the time, for me, it was a mild prank. No one was getting hurt, and it wasn’t booze or drug fueled. There were no girls involved.
    After the sound check, there was a big kerfuffle in the wings. I saw the TV people and theater staff standing around the tour manager. It didn’t look friendly. Our whole crew and band were ordered to assemble on the stage. The old boy theater manager, flanked by two fossils in moth-eaten usher uniforms, had summoned us. He sternly stated the crime and told us there would be no show, that the police had been called, and prosecutions would arise if Dusty Bin was not immediately returned, unharmed. The theater manager was right out of central casting. He had a pointy face, had tufts of wild hair around the side of his head, wore a tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows, and shook his pipe at us when highlighting his point. He reminded me of the mad scientist from Bride of Frankenstein. This was his turf. He meant business. I got it.
    Everyone turned their heads and looked at me. I was busted. The prank was turning out to be unfunny and a bit risky. I quickly measured the impact of the joke and decided that this one wasn’t worth going down in flames. I gave them the “Okay, okay” look and shrug of the shoulders. It was a big principal’s office moment. I waited until no one was watching and took Dusty Bin down the back stairs and back into his own dressing room.
    I