IT WAS ON THE TIP OF HIS TONGUE: A FABULIST FICTION TALE OF THE LAST KISS CONCERT

 

THE LAST KISS'S KISS

(UNWIN FICTION BY STEPHEN WEIR)

It was May 2nd, 1974, when Kiss made their first appearance in Detroit. We met that night.

Kiss couldn't afford bodyguards, so she had no trouble climbing onto the stage. Gene Simmons, weighed down in his new glam and glitter heavy metal costume, needed help from Paul Stanley to kiss her and toss her back. Wearing a wide-assed smile, she crowd-surfed across the mosh pit right into my arms.

We're still together. Kiss still matters to us Big Time. The Starchild. Demon. Space Ace. Catman. There is no room left on our bodies for another tattoo.

When news broke that the band was performing their very last concert at the Casino, I made a solemn vow to her. We would be there.

No way no how could we buy tickets. We live off our Pensions, but lie, cheat or steal we will see the Last Kiss. She was going to kiss and crowd-surf one last time, no matter who I had to kill.

We decided to go old school. Stoned. Its been decades since I last visited the Bridgehouse Tavern toilet. Hasn’t been cleaned since then. Smells of old age men and weed. Good news though Windsor’s Wavy Gravy was still dealing out of the last stall. Purchased some of his LSD and something called a Molly.

Concert Night. Did manage to find the secret back door to the Casino. To this day I still haven’t found where I parked our car.

A man in a fox costume opened the door. She said it was Kiss drummer Eric Carr but was creeped out. He died in ’91. Even in death, he still hates Gene Simmons. "I’m gonna hide you in the Green Room loo. Lay low till ya feel the beat."

Wow a big room, full-bore Hollywood makeup stands, and a workshop where three Kissmen were being welded into costumes (only way they could limp out after parking their zoomers in the walker locker).

We hid inside an oversized stall where there was a presidential Depends dispenser and a butt-cleaning station for #45. Shh, it was a secret — his wife was to deliver the last kiss and he was going do some stumping.

Saw Simmons prone on an operating table. Dr. Oz was working on his long tongue, it had a case of the dropsy’s! Oz used dental goop that would stiffen the beast if he didn't bite it.

Kiss is in a Hurry. The Concert is Quick

The music got loud; it was the Kiss remake of Pearl Jam's remake of Wayne Cochran’s "Last Kiss." “Hold me darling just a little while," Gene Simmons started to wail. “I held her close; I kissed her our last kiss. I found the love that I knew I would miss.”

She fast dashes past the waiting Ms. 45, covering Gene’s mouth with her own. He couldn't help himself. He lowered his 8-inch monster into her mouth. The crew saw it wasn't the Ms 45 getting the band's official last kiss. They madly pull at Simmons.

No way she was going to let go. She bit down hard and held on tight. The Fox appeared to massive applause. “Haul ass, get her out now.”

We scampered outside and down to Dieppe. "I bet you they’ll repeat for the encore," I said.

"Nope," she slurred, "Gene’s smooching days just ended. That was his last kiss."

I heard the sirens coming, She spit out a thin 7-inch slab of meat. She stood on her tippy toes and gave me my own blood dripping Last KISS Kiss.

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