The spotlights blazed, bathing the stage in a haze of bright white heat. The noise from the crowd was tremendous, the stomping and whooping shaking the stage like an earthquake was in full effect. The members of the band stood, arms raised, the adulation sweeping over them, big smiles on their faces.
The lights moved, twisting away from the stage, across the crowd. This was the biggest gig they'd played, the phenomenal success of their second album, Poisoned Lips, had taken them all by surprise. Kent Smithee, the lead singer and rhythm guitarist, turned to clap and acknowledge each member of the band, before turning back to the mic.
"Seattle! You fucking ROCK!" he screamed, causing even more noise from the crowd. From the mosh pit at the front of the stage came a wave of female underwear. Kent stooped to pick up a pair, mopping his face with it, grinning into the crowd. If security were doing their job properly, Kent and the rest of the guys would have their pick from the hottest girls the guards could find. Persuading them backstage was never a problem, these girls would drop their panties for an autograph.
Elkie Nichols, the bass player and sole female in the group, pumped her arm high in the air, the noise, the gig, the whole evening acting like an aphrodisiac to her. She was bathed in perspiration, she could feel her lacy top clinging to her skin, and was beginning to regret the leather skirt and stockings ensemble she'd chosen to wear. She longed to strip off and take a shower, hopefully not alone.
The band had been together for a little over 4 years, meeting up at university and playing the local club circuit, gaining a small but dedicated following. Elkie- or Erica Thomas as she was back then- had been one of the main reasons for a lot of the male followers, five feet tall, long black hair, grey eyes, full lips, and a great sense of style.
She'd taken up bass guitar when she was 11, preferring the driving throb of the instrument to the wail of the guitar. Her parents had tried to get her interested in piano, which she could also play, but the bass was where she shone. She could make it sing. Elkie was also a pretty good songwriter, responsible for a lot of their work, and she made sure she got the writing and composing credits, pushing up her cut of the royalties considerably.
The group had toyed with various names-Frozen Eyes, PanicBitch, and Goodbye Lucille amongst those rejected, before settling on Sock Puppetz, the 'z' hopefully giving them a harder edge. Kent played rhythm and sang, Elkie was on bass and backing vocals, sometimes keyboards and sometimes lead on songs she'd written, Matt Shuffle played lead guitar, and Rob Squeeze played the drums and percussion. Each one of them had adopted a stage name and a stage persona, only, over the years, they'd become more like their characters than they cared to believe.
The crowd were baying for an encore- Kent looked around to Elkie, nodding to her, she smiled. Her chance to shine. Kent counted the rest of the band in, and a single spotlight shone, just on Elkie. The guitar played an arpeggio and the drum kept time as Elkie began to sing the opening bars of 'Tequila Slammer'.
"I let you in, so deep inside
My life held bare, no place to hide
You took my love, you twisted it
Now I'm a slot you just can't fit..."
Her voice trembled over the lines- memories of past affairs echoing in the words. She'd decided long ago that she would never give her heart to another man, such gifts led to heartache, pain, grief. Her heart would stay hers forever. Her sex, on the other hand, that was given freely.
The rest of the band, hidden from the light and playing softly, took a pause for a beat, the lights dropped for a split second, then with a solid beat from the bass drum the lights blazed again, and Sock Puppetz kicked it up, the crowd stomping to the heavy beat, the soft opening bar replaced by a driving thump of guitar, bass, drum and voice.
They segued into a cover of 'You Make Lovin' Fun' by Fleetwood Mac, Christine McVeigh being one of Elkie's heroes, before finishing the set with a rap version of their first hit- surprisingly sampled by an American hip-hop star which had catapulted them into the stratosphere.
Ten minutes later, on a high from the set, the band members left the stage to thunderous applause. High fives all round, bottles of water, beer, bourbon handed around, towels draped over sweating faces and necks. Like any worker, these four people had just finished their day jobs, and it was now time to party.
Security had done their job- a couple of dozen women, girls, even, were waiting for the band in the corridor by the dressing rooms. Elkie shook her head as these half dressed tarts gave her hard looks as she pushed past them. 'Cunts,' she thought, 'poor, deluded cunts.' The guys took their time, sizing up each girl as they moved down the line, each girl getting French kissed and groped, Kent in particular knew how to check a girl for piercings- any piercings- within five seconds, his hands like eels over the girls body.