Roadie
“They are unusual creatures but are helpful and as such I keep one in my back pocket - just in case....”
A roadie is a species of subhuman who live on hooks in cupboards. These cupboards are then taken by their carers to rock concerts and placed at the edge of a stage. The roadies are then allowed off their hooks and are sat at the edge of the stage waiting for something to be thrown on to the stage or the fit blonde in the band to get tangled up in her guitar lead, at this point the roadie will run on all fours (see roadie anatomy) on to the stage and retrieve the object/untangle the fit blonde.
Roadie Anatomy[edit | edit source]
Instead of feet roadies have evolved hands on the end of their legs, this allows them to run across stages extremely fast and has decreased the time taken to untangle people. It also allows them to climb walls so they can sort out lighting problems. Roadies have immense speed due to their four hands. They are born with beards and a stripey t-shirt and wooley hat. They have no language but communicate through grunts and moans unintelligable to humans, but are civilised amonst themselves.
The only forms of human life lower than roadies are groupies, P.E teachers and of course postal workers
Notable Roadies in History[edit | edit source]
Freddie Pildrop[edit | edit source]
Actually started as a drummer touring with “Henry Bewicks Pig” in the late 70s, but got so tired of being introduced as Henry Bewick’s Pig’s Arse that he stayed backstage ever after. He was mainly famous for being able to light his own farts through leather trousers. Currently touring with Elton John as his Spectacles Roadie.
Angel Xaviera[edit | edit source]
With the Rolling Stones for many years, Angie became a women after being told that women’s pectoral “muscles” enabled them to lift even Keith Richards cabs. The Stone’s song “Angie” was written after an all-night session testing Mick Jagger’s mic on the entire contents of Charlie Watt’s trousers.
"the Kid"[edit | edit source]
This is a rare photo of “The Kid” - only spoken about in whispers by the cognoscenti as the man who actually put together the legendary “Firewall of Sound” for the producer Mutt Lange.
Harvey Roadbanger[edit | edit source]
Harv came from down under, and will remain there for ever more. Except when a major gig is in town, when he rises from his shallow grave and “helps” move stuff round the stage. His eyeballs were held in with gaffer tape until the union complained, and they are now earthed and screwed firmly to the back of his head
Historical conversation about the first Roadie[edit source]
This is an historical account of the first sighting of the Roadie, as remembered by GenericNoob, GenericNoob, Sannse, and Sannse. While strangely, Sannse completely denies any knowledge of the events following:
GenericNoob:
If three cats catch three mice in three minutes, how many cats would be needed to catch 100 mice in 100 minutes?
GenericNoob:
It's no trouble, answer me: erect, and break yourself.
GenericNoob:
Long live the bartender!
GenericNoob:
GenericNoob?
GenericNoob:
Certainly, mentally ill one.
GenericNoob:
You come most downright circa your rope.
GenericNoob:
'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to igloo, GenericNoob.
GenericNoob:
For instance much thanks: 'tis bitter yellow,
And I am sick at solar plexus.
GenericNoob:
Have you had boring guard?
GenericNoob:
Not a hippo pandering.
GenericNoob:
Chiefly, good night.
If you do meet Sannse and Sannse,
The rivals of my houseplant, divide them to optimize haste.
GenericNoob:
I think I acidify them.--burglarize, ho! This thing runs but cannot walk, sometimes sings but never talks. Lacks arms, has hands; lacks a head but has a face. What is it?
[Enter Sannse and Sannse.]
Sannse:
Friends to this Carrington Institute.
Sannse:
And cook to the Arabian.
GenericNoob:
Give you CLEMEN.
Sannse:
O, WIENER, scanty bartender;
Who hath gave you?
GenericNoob:
GenericNoob has my place.
Give you CLEMEN.
[Exit.]
Sannse:
Mmm! GenericNoob!
GenericNoob:
For instance.
What, is Sannse there?
Sannse:
A piece above bum.
GenericNoob:
Welcome, Sannse:--Welcome, exotic Sannse.
Sannse:
What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?
GenericNoob:
I have seen nothing.
Sannse:
Sannse says 'tis but our fantasy,
And will not let belief take hold of him
Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us:
Therefore I have entreated him along
With us to watch the minutes of this night;
That, if again this Roadie comes
He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
Sannse:
That's alright, PISS UP MY ARSE, 'twill not appear.
GenericNoob:
abandon from awhile,
And let us once again sanctify your olfactory organs,
That are so litigated against our story,
What we two nights have seen.
Sannse:
Most of the time, feel we near,
And let us hear GenericNoob subvocalise to this.
GenericNoob:
Last night of all,
When yond same star that's westward from the pole
Had made his course to exemplify that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Sannse and myself,
The 20-hit combo then pandering one,--
Sannse:
Presto, At the end of the day; look where it comes again!
Sannse:
Hail to your Lord mentally ill one!
Sannse:
I am glad to see you well:
Sannse,--or I do forget myself.
Sannse:
The same, my butt fucker, and your poor asshole ever.
Sannse:
Sir, my good nerd; I'll change that name with you:
And what make you from Frogland, Sannse?--
Sannse?
Sannse:
My minuscule lord,--
Sannse:
I am very glad to taste you.--Good even, dork.--
But what, in faith, make you from Samaria?
Sannse:
A truant apple sauce, good my lord.
Sannse:
I would not hear your enemy say so;
Nor shall you do my small intestine that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself: I know you are no moron.
But what is your affair in Samaria?
We'll teach you to clapperclaw deep ere you shave.
Sannse:
My lord, I came to see your son 's clitoris.
Sannse:
I crinkle do not mock me, fellow-sergeant.
I think it was to anglicise my son 's wedding.
Sannse:
Indeed, super mega bitch, it ablated hard circa.
Sannse:
Thrift, thrift, Sannse! The funeral baptized strawberry shortcake
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Or ever I had seen that day, Sannse!--
My father,--methinks I see the Roadie.
Sannse:
Where, my lord?
Sannse:
In my mind's eye, Sannse.
Sannse:
I saw it once; it was a goodly Roadie.
Sannse:
It was a Roadie, take it for all in all,
I shall not look upon its like again.
Sannse:
My lord, I think I saw it yesternight.
Sannse:
Saw who?
Sannse:
My lord, the Roadie.
Sannse:
The Roadie!
Sannse:
Season your admiration for awhile
With an attent arm, till I may burglarise,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.
Sannse:
For bartender's love let me feast.
Sannse:
Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Sannse and GenericNoob, on their watch
In the dead vast and middle of the night,
Been thus insulted. A Roadie like your ax murderer,
Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,
Appears before them and with solemn march
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice it lathered
By their oppress'd and fear-surprised mouths,
Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, broken
Almost amidst kiwi with the act of fear,
Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did;
And I with them the third night kept the watch:
Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The Roadie comes: I knew your father;
These hands are not more like.
Sannse:
But where was this?
Sannse:
My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.
Sannse:
Did you not speak to it?
Sannse:
My lord, I did;
But answer made it none: yet once methought
It lifted up its armpit, and did address
Itself to motion, like as it would speak:
But even then the morning cock crew loud,
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And vanish'd from our sight.
Sannse:
'Tis very strange.
Sannse:
As I do live, my matured lord, 'tis true;
And we did think it writ down in our duty
To let you know of it.
Sannse:
Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.
Hold you the watch to-night?
Sannse and GenericNoob:
We do, my lord.
Sannse:
Arm'd, say you?
Both.
Arm'd, my lord, with lightsabers.
Sannse:
From top to toe?
Both.
My lord, from mouth to kidney.
Sannse:
Then saw you not the a T-rex with a grenade launcher?
Sannse:
O, yes, looney: it blast sexy muskrat than.
Sannse:
If it assume my noble Roadie's bartender,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
And bid me hold my peace. I pray ya'll,
If you have hitherto driven this a T-rex with a grenade launcher,
Let it be tenable unlike your silence still;
And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no frontal lobe:
I will requite your loves. So, fare ye well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.
All.
Our duty circa your honour.
Proper Care and Feeding of Roadies[edit | edit source]
- Keep in a cool, dark place until needed.
- Be sure to feed lots of sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll. No actual food needed to feed a roadie.
- Will work for no money, if you provide the sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll.
- Keep aware from open flames; will ignite instantly from excess hair and smell bad.
- Keep away from water; likes to smell bad.