"... After the show, we was[sic] in our domicile, peacefully smoking leaves of a tree called palo borracho and injecting our veins with bleach, Catalan alioli and Brazilian tereré, when suddenly a crash and a boom were heard.
76 patrol cars with all the sirens and lights turned ON came for us, and even Ronald Mac Donald was there throwing shit at our steamy window panes: apparently a nonagenarian neighbor reported that the next door tenants (us) were terrorists from a Soviet oblast of Muslim population listening to Yoko Ono out loud and making a H-bomb.
We were gently transported to the central in 4 patrols (one per band member): inside there were kicks, punches and ugly things, even our drummer (Tommy LeCock) he was knocked out 19 times in 5 minutes by GI Joe.
When finally we arrived to the jail, our bassist Nikki Sexx wanted to call his lawyer, and the reply was a kick in the head that almost lobotomized him ipso facto.
Into the dungeons the cops invited us cordially to taste some rat soup and petrified oatcakes: everybody said "I pass", until Godzilla in uniform came: everybody devoured then the oatcakes with a smile.
In the end we was released from jail, in fact ejected with formidable kicks in the fanny
end o' story.
Moral: never live in Chicklazooka."
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