Big Mick McCabe by Steve McCabe
By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs a crowd was gathering. The coppers had left, having done Maureen's dirty work and I had to make the most important decision, up till this point, in my life. Should I go home and leave those punters unsated or did I have the resources to pull off the coup, get back in there, make that sale? Whoever said clowns came from heaven may have been making a weak joke, but the clown who appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere made a believer of me that night. Silently he removed his wig and glasses, placed them on my head, then motioned for me to go up the stairs. The mime standing next to him started an excruciating climbing action and I got the drift of what they were saying.
I suddenly realized there was a slim chance I could pass myself off as my own brother Mick, a strapping lad with curly bright red hair and glasses, just the same features, as luck would have it, as that saintly clown had bedecked me with! If I got straight back on the horse, strode straight back up the stairs and marched right back into that bar, I may just be able to pass it off! I decided there was no other way.
As I walked in, I could see Maureen cackling in the corner, laughing about how she had pulled one over on the ol' Axemen. She didn't give me a second glance, and I knew I had succeeded to stage one. The next thing was to sneak back up onto that stage and start playing before anyone could recognise me. I quietly divulged my plan to Bob and sneked up onto the stage, where I hid behind a large speaker for ten minutes. Fortunately, someone had stashed a trunk of Elephant beer there, so I calmed my nerves and waited it out. Finally, Bob took the stage.
"Unfortunately, Maureen has had Steve removed from the premises", Bob announced, "on the premise that he is too young to sing Rock'n'Roll in a two-bit bar-band!" "Boo!" "We of course, know better - But, the law's the law, my friends, and far be it from me to obstruct the forces of almighty justice! And as they say, rain or shine, sleet or snow, the show MUST go on! Now, we are fortunate tonite that Steve's older brother Mick is in town, and he has kindly offered to try and fill in for him - he knows most of the songs, so give him a big hand, now ladies and gentlemen - BIG - MICK MCCAAAAAAAAABE!"
The crowd roared their approval and I saw the smirking frown Maureen called a smile slide silently from her face. We began our second set with "The Sun Is Very Hot". The song at that time was a fairly average-length, brisk number with little variation, but after the first couple of minutes, we realized that Maureen was onto us. Having appointed a point-guard to watch the power supply so Maureen couldn't pull the plug on us, we looked at each other and realized that this would be our last song of the night -but there was still half an hour till closing time.
We settled into the groove and drew that song out like Jerry Garcia - pushing it this way, pulling it that way, running the gamut of contemporary and past styles, feeding off the backbeat and driving it home. We were 17 minutes in when Maureen and her goons snatched me off the stage and manhandled me into the waiting arms of the fuzz. For the sake of Rock'n'Roll I became a criminal that night, and I don't regret a minute of it. As the Little Bird herself said, "Non, je ne regret RIEN" !
That was the first time The Axemen were banned from the Empire forever, but not the last.