Forewarning 
If none of this story seems to make any sense to you, do not fret. None of the occurrences are really possible i.e. Kassidy and I were 3 years old at the time and certainly could not drive a red VW microbus. 

Basically disregard anything that doesn't seem right, because it isn't. It makes sense only to Kassidy and myself, and to share this understanding, a few hundred thorough viewings of 'Woodstock' and 'Alice's Restaurant' are necessary. 

Enjoy,
Trica 
 

It was a dark and stormy night. The year was 1984 and the punks were ruling their hairsprayed universe. 

But the times they were a-changin'. For little did they know that deep in the heart of Arlo Guthrie's church, the hippies were conspirin'. 

They had a plan: to take down the establishment. But first they had to get the eighties freaks out of the way. The hippies were tolerant of all walks of life, and they admired the eighties freaks' spirit, but they were going about it the wrong way (Gowan. Need we say more?) 

The hippies tried to get Country Joe McDonald to lead the pack, but alas, his war stoppin' days were over. He had put down his army ensemble and geetar for the button-down life of teaching high school science at St. Joseph Scollard Hall under the pseudonym 'John MacDonald'... so they got Bob Dylan instead. 

Second in command were good ol' Arlo, Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell, Robert Plant, Richie Havens, Lou Reed and Joe Cocker. 

Their main plan: to take out the leader of the eighties freaks, Gowan, and his army of hired goons, Bauhaus, and teach him the error of his ways. 

"Here's the specifics." said Bob Dylan. "The eighties freaks are having a rave tonight at 8:00 at Starlight. While Gowan is getting ready we'll create a diversion." 

"I don't know how many of you can dig how many people there are, man. Like I was rappin' to the fuzz, right. Can you dig it? Man, there's supposed to be a million and a half people there by tonight, man. Can you dig that? The New York State thruway's closed, man! Yeah, it's far out, man. Lotta freaks." rambled Arlo Guthrie. 

"What did he say?" asked Joan Baez. 

"Oh, just ignore him." said Joni Mitchell. "He's just one of our many raving derelicts." 

And so their plan unraveled. 

"Whatta we do, boss?" asked Lou Reed. 

"We bring out the big guns... Leonard Cohen." 

The group was taken aback with shock as a dark figure holding a cigarette emerged from the shadows. As the smoke cleared, the face of Leonard Cohen appeared. 
 
 

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Meanwhile, at the Starlight in downtown North Bay, Ontario, the eighties freaks were preparing for the rave by setting up their mist machines and Poison posters. Gowan was sitting at the head of the bar yelling orders to his goons, Bauhaus, and his special guest, Modo. 

"Hey, lads, get the makeup crew in here with more orange eyeshadow and rouge. And those posters are too straight. Unstraighten them. Crooked is cool, brother." He took a sip of his daiquiri. "Oh, and boys, what hot acts did you get for me tonight?" 

"Well boss, the Northern Pikes, Loverboy, A-Ha and Wham all said yes. Boy George jumped at the chance and David Bowie rudely declined." answered Modo. 

"Did you get those two delicious Coreys from that movie 'License to Drive'?" asked Gowan. 

"But boss, they're not musicians, they're actors." 

"And they're adorable actors. I want the two Coreys here by 8:00 or you're all fired. Is that clear, Modo?" and with that he threw his daiquiri in Modo's face and stomped up to his hotel room to sulk, leaving his hired goons in charge. 
 
 

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"LEONARD COHEN!" the group exclaimed. 

"Groovy, man. I thought you were dead, man. Can you dig it? What a trip." said Arlo. 

"Can I have a little help from me friends, here? I mean, am I the only one seeing things?" asked a bewildered Joe Cocker. 

"Just because no one buys my records, that doesn't mean I'm dead. I never die." said Leonard Cohen, slick as in his earlier days. 

Come on, man. It's a long flight from Massachusetts to North Bay. Let's haul out." Arlo said. 

Suddenly an unexpected visitor flew through the window: the vampire Keith Richards. 

Just then, Nigel Planer (best known for his role as 'Neil' in the hit British TV series 'The Young Ones') emerged from the bathroom. "OH NO! Keith's dead, but still alive, like Leonard Cohen!" 

This upset Leonard, so he dropped a walk-in humidor on Nigel's head. 

"Hey, man, karma. I could have sworn that Now and Zen you're hangin' with the Buddhists. Aren't they teaching you anything, man?" asked Robert Plant. 

"Karma shmarma. He pished me off!" 

"Sham blen ugh naesqpenn... maaaaaaww!!" said Keith unintelligibly. 

"Get out of here, you yuppie. You're working for the establishment, not against it." yelled Joan Baez. 

"Yeah, man, pesha bleeeem; pknaqssd." said Bob Dylan. 

"Marwsk queeaissd. Meniss, boy. Blingg mmmmmm, dde naway." replied Keith. 

"Boni waye! Sceho si besth, sceho si besth, dena-oooh!" yelled Bob. 

"You tell 'im, Bob!" cheered Richie Havens. 

"I'll sick my dog on you!" Keith retaliated. 

"You'll sick Mick Jagger on me? You don't have the guts, man." 

"No, no, I guess not. Okay, well, I guess I'll be going then. Cheerio." And with that, Keith Richards flew through the window, never to be seen in Massachusetts again. 
 
 

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The hippies arrived in North Bay at 7:00 p.m. that night, giving them just enough time to set up. 

Dressed in black cat suits and armed with macramé (handcrafted par Trica) sacs full of necessities, they climbed to the top of the Mr. Topper's Pizza next door to Starlight. A mysterious red VW microbus bee-boppin' to the tunes of 'Rock and Soul Music' lurked across the street. They then jumped onto the roof of the Starlight building. The hippies creeped over to the glass sunroof and, using special glass cutting tools, they carved out a chunk of it. They cut it in a shape familiar to the freaks so as not to alarm them, or announce their presence: a bottle of hairspray. 

By then it was 8:10, Glass Tiger was performing and the party was well under way. It was time for the hippies to make their move. One by one they slid down hemp ropes (no synthetic fibres here) into the middle of the shindig. 

Glass Tiger stopped playing. "Oh no! Folk singers!" screamed the lead singer. 

"Oh no! Glass Tiger!" screamed Arlo Guthrie as he grew faint and weak in the knees. "Okay, everybody man (or woman) your stations!" 

And they did. Leonard Cohen scrambled onto the stage as Richie Havens (their thug) knocked out the DJ and put on a 'First We Take Manhattan' record. The rest of the team silently watched, waited. 

Synthesizers started blaring "do do do do do do do do." A gruff voice spoke; "They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom/ for trying to change the system from within. 

The eighties freaks started jumping around and head banging. 

"Tell it like it is, dude!" screamed Corey Feldman. 

"It's true! It's true!" yelled Corey Haim. 

"What did I tell you two about talking?" snapped Gowan. 

"Not to, sir." the Coreys said, frightened and ashamed. 

"That is correct. Now, shut your gobs and massage my feet." And they did. 

"Stop the music! Stop the music!" yelled Bob Dylan. He ran onstage, smashed the turntable and pulled the microphone away from Leonard. "Just what do you think you're doing?" 

"The song's cool, man. Listen to the words. It's anarchy, man." 

"It's techno. They like techno! What are we going to do now?" asked Bob. 

Joan Baez, reminded of the song 'Joe Hill' about a man who never gave up, spoke. "Not to undermine your authority, Bob, sir, but I always feared that Leonard, as cool as he is, was slipping into the eighties, so I came prepared with a backup band." She opened her macramé satchel and out popped Country Joe and the Fish, decked out in army ensemble, tie dye, bandannas and geetars. 

"What are you doing here, Joe? I thought you were working for the establishment." exclaimed Bob Dylan. 

"No, no, man. Teaching high school science is a cover. The fuzz was after me, so I had to blend. Two of my groovy students, Trica and Kassidy, told me what was goin' down and snuck me here in their red VW microbus. Now, sir, if you don't mind, I'd like to get on with the plan." 

And with that, he reached into Joan's satchel and pulled out a bomb full of unknown gas. 

"MARIJUANA!" Country Joe and the Fish screamed as the bomb flew through the air, releasing condensed weed smoke. 

"NOOOOOO!" screamed the eighties freaks as they writhed in pain on the floor. For you see, they were not used to such gentle drugs as weed. They preferred crack and ecstasy. 

Ten minutes later the hippies surveyed their surroundings and saw that the freaks were all in comas. But what was this? The Two Coreys were still conscious and well, sitting at the bar, drinking Singapore slings. 

"How come you guys aren't knocked out?" asked Country Joe. 

"I don't know." slurred Corey Feldman. The hippies eyed each other in bewilderment. 

"Ah, too late now." said Arlo. So they threw the Coreys into a potato sac and carried them off. 

And to this day their girlie screams for Singapore slings and daiquiris can be heard coming from behind the altar of Arlo's church. 
 

The End 
 

par Trica and Kassidy