kiss kidnapped

continued...

a work of fiction by: spencer bailey
punk rock special magazine - winter 1978

haverstock, it turned out, did the right thing. when the wives found out what had happened, and how haverstock had tried to spare them the agony of communicating during this terrible time, they realized they had a friend in this reporter. they voluntarily went next door and spoke to johnny.

"i could'nt believe it," he said. "in the middle of their great ordeal, these women were willing to be interviewed. i thought that was just about one of the finest things i ever heard and, when one on them explained to me that "it would help to pass the time until our husbands are back with us," i just started to cry like a baby. they wound up trying to help me keep my cool. these are some great women; they made me appreciate kiss even more than i did already."

while everyone was worrying about ace, gen and peter, the three continued to discuss their plight, when suddenly their quiet talk was interrupted as the door to their prison room slowly opened. was this the beginning of another nightmare? they watched as one of the black-garbed gang entered. now that they saw him clearly, the three performers could see that he was only a young, scared boy hardly old enough to be called a man. despite their predicament, they found themselves wanting to reassure him that things would turn out alright. but what he had to say to them proved otherwise.

the trembling youth approached the three artists. for a moment he could do nothing but stare at them, as if he was going to ask them for their autographs.
finally he spoke.

"i almost seen you sing once,' he said in a high youthful voice filled with fear. "i almost had enough money to buy the tickets, but i could'nt get it in time." he was clearly in awe of the singing group, and his next conversation confirmed this.

"i've been crazy about you guys ever since i first heard about you," he admitted. "that's the reason i got mixed up in this; the others told me i'd get to meet you, to see you in person and to talk to you without having to buy a ticket and get through hundreds of others to get close to you. that's why i did it; i thought it was only for kicks. it was all going to be one crazy big bingo game, and i'd get to talk to you guys and i'd leave with tons of bread. but now i know it's no game."

his face, as he said these last words, showed the three performers what the score was concerning their future. if they read their youngsters correctly, they were not going to perform again.

"they're not going to let you go," the youthful gang member continued. "they know that your friend paul did'nt get a good look at us because we got rid of him too fast for that. he could'nt have remembered anything about us. but you guys could. the others are afraid you'll remember this place, and maybe you spotted our walks, our heights and other things like that. i overheard them just a few minutes ago. they did'nt know i was listening outside the window; they said they'd made up their minds to kill all of you and split with the bread."

how does a man feel when he hears his own death sentence? a man feels scared, no matter how brave he is. and the kiss members also felt sad for their fans. it would be terrible not to perform before them anymore. they thought about their friends and families, and life became more dear to them than ever before. there had to be some way out of this nightmare; there just had to be. and there was, they learned, when the youngster spoke to them.

"i've come to get you out of here," he said as he removed his hood. he was a young farm boy; couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old. he had just become a man; but had it happened too late? was there a way for him to get them out of the house?

"this use to be my room, before uncle ned moved in and made me sleep in the living room," he said. uncle ned must be one of the gang, ace thought. "when i was younger," the boy continued, i use to hate to go to bed early; i always wanted to sneak out and watch television through the living room window from the outside. so i dug this; it took me a long time, and it was a secret from everyone, including uncle ned. but i finally finished it."

as he spoke, the boy opened a beautifully concealed trap door, built into the floor of the room. there was no handle; the boy removed a knothole from the varnished wood and, inserting the end of a claw hammer into the hole, he lifted the door up. a gaping hole appeared in the boards, but as the boy hurriedly untied the artists, peter, ace and gene realized this was their way to freedom.

"now be very quiet," he warned. "uncle ned and the others are out front, playing cards. they think i'm out back, doing the chores and gathering firewood for them." the four were completely quiet as they slid down through the trap door, into the hole in the floor.

as their feet touched the ground below, they could see light. they were under the house, and they didn't stop to look back. they plodded forward, going as quickly and quietly as they could.

while they were escaping, uncle ned put his cards down. three bad hands in a row had convinced him that now was the time to kill kiss. wordlessly, he nodded to his companions, pronouncing the death march that would end in a murderous hail of bullets for the world famous trio held prisoner in the next room. the kidnappers gathered up their guns and walked slowly to the door. they opened the door, and looked into the room, and gasped; the room was completely empty.

they had no way of spotting the trap door; the youngster had closed it after everyone was out of the room, and he'd taken the hammer with him to use as a weapon in an emergency.

the criminals ran from the house and looked around. far off in the distance, they spotted the four escapees and prepared to open fire. but the bullets that flew through the air were not theirs; they belonged to the police who now surrounded the place.

"because of paul's recollections under hypnosis, his own memories of an old farm house, and the geographical information, we were able to trace the hideout. a large group of us crept up on the site like commandos," remembers johnny haverstock. "we saw the boys making their escape, but we decided to remain hidden just in case they needed an escort out of there."

gene simmons, ace frehley and peter criss were reunited with paul stanley.
each had a story to tell, and much to be thankful for.
and two women had husbands to return to.

a week later, the small town had it's kiss concert after all. afterward, there was a press conference. one young female's 'reporter,' obviously a groupie following her favorites around, asked ace: "would you want to be kidnapped by spacemen, and taken away from the earth into outerspace?" "no," answered ace without a moment's hesitation. "i would not want to be kidnapped by aliens again." the puzzled groupie returned ace's smiling stare and cared little about the answer she'd received.

the reporters were never told about the real story, and johnny haverstock got his exclusive; you're reading it now. uncle ned and his gang have been put away for a long, long time. the youngster who helped them escape, has not been identified by name because, at the insistence of kiss, he was put on probation and sent to a first class college. it's rumored the singing group is paying his tuition, and all his bills. "that kid's really good, too," says haverstock. "i'll probably become his agent when he's ready for one.


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