ATTACK OF THE 50FT GINGER BAKER
24 Janaury 2001
Ginger was playing drums with his new band "Textured people with glisening lumps" at the Exploding Teeth Rock Club in London. Unfortunatly for Ginger it was poorly attended. There was only two men and half a cat in the hall. The two men spoke to one another.
'He's not very ginger now is he?'
'He must be over sixtie.'
'Yeah and still drumming. I supose that’s all he knows. Never worked a day in his life. My farther fought in the war so that hippy's like him could play loud, progresive rock. Its disgraceful.'
'I wonder how many groupies he got in the sixties?'
'Not a lot. Drummers never get groupies. But I bet you Eric Clapton got his balls licked all the time.'
'Hay I wonder if he would play "Sunshine of your love"? Its my favourite.'
'Go ask him.'
His friend climbed the stage and went up to Ginger where he was sitting behind his drum kit.
'Ginger' said the man. 'Play "Sunshine of your love".'
'Get lost you bucket of puke' said Ginger angrily. 'I hate that song. I've played it so many times I'm sick to death of it. Every time I do a gig some cunt like you comes up and say play "Sunshine…" Well fuck you mate. I'm going to play a two hour drum solo instead.'
Ginger started to hit his drums very loudly while the man walked off stage in a bad mood.
'What did he say?' asked his friend.
'He called me a cunt and he wont play "Sunshine…" '
'The cheek. One thing I cant stand is a hippie with atitude. In the old days they were like "Peace, love, flowers man". Now since the punk rock days they think they know it all.'
'Lets throw this bottle of larger at him.'
'No don’t throw that one. Throw this bottle of larger. Its full of radio active sludge.'
'Ha ha. That will fuck him up.'
They threw the bottle of radio active lager a Ginger. It smashed on his head and soaked him to the skin. A mutation began. Ginger felt strange. He dropped his drum sticks and he began to shake and convulse.
'Ugh I think I'm having a hart attack. Or is it the heroin kicking in?'
His muscles stretched . His bones grew. His blood rushed through his viens. Ginger could feel himself growing larger and stronger. Strong like a horse at a race track. His life flashed before his eyes all psychedelically. He saw when he was a four year old boy ridding on a swing in the park.
'High I go' said Ginger the boy. 'My feet are made of bycicle inner tubes.' He looked down and they were. Gingers mind flashed to when he got his first drum kit for Christmas. A red shiny drum kit sat by the highly decorated Christmas tree.
'What's that Mum?' asked the young Ginger to his mother.
'Its your Christmas present" she said.
'Is it a washing machine?'
'No it’s a drum kit. You play it.'
'With what?'
'With sticks' said Ginger's mother handing him a pair. Ginger began to beat the drums.
'that’s it Ginger' said his mum. 'Beat the crap out of those drums. I want you to destroy the nieghbours with your constant noise.'
'You don’t like them do you mum' said Ginger.
'that’s right. I want to drive them out of their home. So play as loud as you can, especialy at three o'clock in the morning.'
Ginger's mind flashed to when he was on stage with Cream at the Filmore East in 1968. Ginger was tripping.
'Coor, drugs are coming out of the walls. And mushrooms are going into my mouth. I'm really getting high. My drums are turning into baby's bottoms.. Clapton looks like he's got three legs. And he is doing a scotish dance while playing a musicle poodle. He's blowing up its arse. Jack Bruce looks like a ice cream cone, pissing in a tin bucket.'
Sudenly Gingers head crashed through the roof of the Exploding Teeth rock club. He towerd above everything. The toxic sludge had mutated Ginger into a fifty foot giant.
'Look at my body' he said exsaminine himself. 'Big, tall, strong . With a body like this I could do anything. I could rule the world. People will bow down and worship me as a drummer god. But first I'm going to kick Eric Clapton's arse.'
Ginger, with giant strides walked in the direction of America. Crushing buildings as he did so. Men, women and children screamed and ran as his big feet came crashing down squoshing cars flat and making crators in the road.
'Ho ho ho , worship me you ants' bellowed Ginger. His voice ten times louder than Motorhead.
Ginger crushed his way to California in the States. He came to Eric Clapton's pent house sky scraper. It reached up to Ginger's knee caps. He laughed at the puny size of his old guitarists luxuary apartment. He pulled it up from its foundations and held the building up to his face.
'Eric. I know your in there' boomed Gingers voice.
'What the fucks going on?' said Eric as furniture and guitars crashed all around him as Ginger shook the building in his hand.
'Eric its me, Ginger.'
'What happened to you?' said Eric looking out of his window to the giant incarnation of Ginger.
'God has given me strength and power to kill. And I'm going to kick you arse.'
'Why Ginger?' said Eric shaking with fear. 'We've always been friends.'
'Bollocks. You were a shit guitarist. Hendrix could piss all over you. You always take credit for the slide guitar part on "Layla". But I know it was Greg Allman realy.'
'But Ginger, we were a super group.'
'Fuck off and die.'
Ginger pulled Eric Clapton out of his apartment and booted him up the arse. So powerful was his kick that Eric was sent into deep outer space, travling beyond the speed of light, never to be seen again.
"ho ho ho. That was fun.' Laughed Ginger. "hay I've just rememberd that John Mayall still owes me three pounds for that gig I did for him at the "Flemingo Club" back in 1963. I'll go back to England and kick his arse.'
Meanwhile in the countryside of England. There was a loud Knocking on George Harison's mansion door. The frantic Knocking repeated and repeated.
'Ok man I'm coming, I'm coming' said George tying his bath robe around him while walking down the hall. He opened the door. It was Jack Bruce.
'Jack? What are you doing up so early?" asked George.
'You got to help me George. Have'nt you heard? Ginger Baker has turned into a fifty foot monster.'
'Well fuck my mum up the arse' said George in surprise.
'He has already kicked Eric into out of space. And I know he hates me. I'll be next. You got to protect me George.'
'What do want me to do?'
'Well you must know all about protection. Especialy since John"s death. You have laser alarms and cannons and razor wire. Let me stay in your house for a while.'
'Sorry man. All those things are crap. I got stabbed in the chest last week. Your on your own.'
'But George, remember, we wrote "Badge" together. There must be some way you can help me?'
'Well…' thought George long and hard. 'I've got a magic dog.' George whistled. A dog came running up the hall and sat next to him. 'He can talk to. Talk to Jack boy.'
The dog began to speak in deep , dark, rich tones.
'Hallo Mr Bruce. Here is my card' the dog said handing him a card. It had "Danger Dog. Loves Danger". I understand why you are in fear of your life. A fifty foot Ginger Baker is a frightening thought. But no matter. I, Danger Dog will sort it out. Just take me to him.'
In Trafalger Square Ginger was causing havoc. He pissed down Nellsons Collumn then bit it in half. The police and the army were there. But their attempts at bringing Ginger down was hopless . Jet fighters whizzed around his head. 'Fuck off' said Ginger as he swotted them down to the ground bellow.
Suddenly.He could hear a voice he reconised. 'That sounds like Jack Bruce.'
'Yes Ginger its me Jack. I'm by your feet.'
Ginger looked down. "ha ha ha. I was just on my way over to kick your arse.'
'But before you do' Said Jack. 'I want you to meet a friend of mine, Danger Dog.'
'Pleased to meet you Mr Baker.'
'Wow. A talking dog. I like dogs" said Ginger.
'Let me lick your hand' said Danger Dog.
Ginger held out his hand and the dog licked it. Sudenly in a flash Ginger was back to his normal size.
'Well fuck my old boots. How did you do that?' asked Ginger.
'My saliver has magical powers. It reversed the Radio active process.'
'Thanks Danger Dog. I was getting bored with being a fifty foot giant.'
'Oh Ginger, let us be friends once again' said Jack Bruce with his arms out stretched.
'I'm still going to kick your arse' said Ginger getting ready to kick.
THE END
Sexton Ming