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Name: pluto
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Subject: Wotcha playmates
Date: Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Time: 2:40:39 PM
Remote Address: 92.28.18.37
Message ID: 285012
Parent ID: 285007
Thread ID: 284928
I think you are right Keno, John likes Alice, and who doesn't? Don't think he took him very seriously though.
The audition was a complete piss take, they were extracting the urine. I have written about it in my pamphlet, Pluto's Indispensable Guide to Seminal Events in British Rock, from which the following is an abridged extract.
Characters: Malcolm McLaren...designer,artist,impresario,
chancer.
Steve Jones...guitarist, and sometime singer.
Paul Cook...drummer.
Alf...Landlord
Domino players...locals
Gercha...three legged Jack Russell terrier
Plod...aka the Old Bill aka the Police
To set the scene: A dingy boozer somewhere in the Big Smoke into which a young John Lydon walks to audition for a band.
McLaren: You 'ere for the audition mate?
Lydon: Yeah
McLaren: You got 'alf a dollar on you?
Lydon: (fishing into his trouser pocket) Yeah, why?
McLaren: Never mind that, give us it 'ere (Lydon hands over the 50 pence piece which McLaren drops into the pub jukebox, and after a few buttons are pushed, the dulcet tones of Alice Cooper emerge). Sing that!
Lydon: You what?
McLaren: Sing that mate!
Lydon: Do leave it out squire!
Cook: Sing the song you fucking pillock!
Lydon: Fuck off!
Jones: Yeah sing the song you spazzo cunt, or you can piss off!
Lydon:........lines form on the.......
At this point Jones and Cook fall about in hysterics, totally knotting themselves. Lyden, enraged, sticks the nut on the jukebox which issues forth that dreadful needle across vinyl scratching sound, and switches disk to Leapy Lee singing 'Little Arrows' at ear bleeding volume.
Landlord: (at Lydon) Oi you tosser, get your ugly mush out of 'ere, and don't come back. You're fucking barred you little bender....fucking wan....(the last of his words tail off as he ducks to avoid a bar stool launched by Lydon, which sails over his head, and goes crashing into the gantry)
Meanwhile Cook and Jones still helpless with laughter, have inadvertently careered into a table where some older geezers have, until now, been engrossed in a game of Maltese Cross. Half pints of bitter and dominoes flying everywhere.
The domino players remonstrate, and it turns quickly to fisticuffs. Lydon dives screaming and spitting headlong into the melee to help them knock fuck out of Cook and Jones.
Landlord: (on the dog and bone to the Old Bill) You'd better get round here sharpish boys, a bunch of spotty 'erberts are smashing the place up. Moments later the sound of sirens are heard in the distance.
All the while McLaren has been cornered by an over excited three legged Jack Russell terrier 'Gercha', who belongs to one of the domino players.
On hearing the police sirens McLaren summons up the courage, and makes a bolt for the door. Gercha spotting his opportunity makes a leap, and attaches himself to McLaren's arse with his teeth. As he breenges out the door McLaren manages to scream through the pain "You've got the gig John", before doing the Joe the Toff into the night with Gercha still clinging on for dear life.
Seconds later Plod burst in truncheons drawn, and start cracking skulls.
A legend is born.....Anarchy down the Nag's Head.
That's exactly how it happened. I should know, I was there. I was that set of dominoes.
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