After being told that we can pick up the scaffolding tomorrow (A BLACK LIE, it turns out), Chicken and I return to the Lab where the other cast members have arrived, such as Attaboy the crazy cartoonist poet, Molotov Malcontent, a fire-eating side show marvel, and my old devival-tour veteran pal, David Apocalypse, who has been living in SF for 4 years now and performs regularly in the Chicken John-Dr. Howll shows (135 of them so far!). Finally we all hie to the palatial residence of Chicken's friends (CENSORED TO PROTECT THIS NICE COUPLE), who own a huge iguana and a one-eyed cat. Yet ANOTHER van full of Chicken's San Francisco support staff and game show actors arrive and we all go eat. At this point I am becoming immersed in Chicken John World, hearing stories of some of the bizarre events and shows they have pulled off in the past, such as the gigantic "WIZARD OF ASS," a flame-belching butt oracle that preceeded the flaming Dobbshead, at Burning Man, and the "MAKE ME PUKE!" Game show, where the contestants tried to be first to make people in the audience puke (they got a total of 4 pukes and 2 faintings), and so many other high-concept vaudeville-like "happenings" that I think some enterprising Tom Wolfe type character should be writing a book about them. But then, some enterprising Tom Wolfe type character should be writing a book about US. Maybe I should just do it instead, and so keep the royalties.
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