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A brief synopsis:

The year is 1979.  The band Disco Fury was at the peak of the 70s music wave, bringing funk and disco jams to the world like never heard before.  On the way to NYC to headline the world's biggest New Year's 1980 party, the band's custom Dodge conversion van blew a head gasket outside of Poughkeepsie.  This led to a series of bizarre supernatural experiences.  Cozy Pillows, the funkified drummer of the band, got on the CB radio to contact the support bus, which also carried their auxillary musicians, including keyboardists, horn players and string section.  His efforts were in vain.  As the band disembarked from the Dodge, an auto repair shop faded in from the mist, Holy Rollers Tires and Repair.  Their roadie, Doug, was tasked with pushing the van to the shop.  After all, the band could not soil their awesome disco threads.  Doug was the 27th roadie the band had in the last 3 years.  Each one had succumbed to an uncanny fate.  Strangely enough, each time one was lost, bassist Slappy Holmes was absent.  He would always claim he was out picking his afro, but everyone was suspicious nonetheless.  Fortunately there was no lack of volunteers to work for this superstar band.  

     Guitar slinger (and retired daredevil) Stevel Knievel along with singer/guitarist Wild Wild West entered into the dank old shop.  There under the hood a 1959 Edsel was a gnomish looking fellow who was quite possibly older than dirt.  He looked up with a grimace and said, "I've been expecting you, there's not much time.  You are needed in the future, the apocalypse is coming and only your funky disco jams can save the world."  Stevel said, "I don't know what you've been smoking, Gramps, but you better have some to share!"  The curmudgeon replied, "I remember you, St. Evergreen, you always were a ornery cuss." "Wha -- who?," Stevel wondered.  "Now, shut up an listen," the old fart continued, "you 5 must travel to the year 2011 when the end of the world begins.  Your music has a unique combination of booty-shaking rhythm and angelic harmony that is needed to restore balance to the future world.  I'm afraid your backup band has been taken by dark forces who are trying to prevent your show tonight.  Wild Wild West, you must play all the parts of the backup band."  West cleverly retorted, "Huh?"  The old timer cackled and walked to the trunk of the rusty Edsel and popped it open.  A glowing light poured forth, and inside was what looked like a weird hippie guitar and a control unit from a sci-fi movie.  "This is the Keytar, which makes any sound you can imagine, plus it's perfect for disco music.  You will play keyboards, strings, horns and more on the Keytar so the band can continue on this perilous journey.  Oh yeah, don't put any cheap ass strings on it either."  Like pulling mighty Excalibur from the stone, West lifted the Keytar from one of the worst automobiles ever made.  It gleamed like something really gleamy.  "Copasetic! I will taketh this ax and make the booties shaketh! By the way, who the heck are you, old man?" He mused, "In days gone by I was known as St. Tutilo of Gall, now people round here call me Cooter, which could be the dumbest name ever.  Your journey will be fraught with obstacles, challenges, zombies, demons, and sometimes drunken idiots, but you must remain strong.  You will meet helpers along the way.  And for God's sake, don't eat the brown acid!  When you arrive in the future you shall adopt the name The Polyester Apocalypse."  Stevel had grown impatient, "you are one crazy cat, Methusaleh.  Listen, just get our bad ride rolling again and we'll be on our way." "Oh, that?" he snapped his fingers and they heard the van fire up outside.  "Groovy," said Stevel as they viewed their pimp ride.  "Thanks, old crusty guy," but they turned back to find he and the Edsel had vanished into thin air.  

     Stevel and West went outside as the sun was setting to find their disco diva, Nikki Star and Cozy Pillows standing by the van which was purring like a jungle cat.  "Where's Slappy?" inquired Stevel.  Nikki replied, "he said he needed some 'fro time."  "And Doug?" asked West. Cozy replied, "he went to drain the lizard."  Just then they heard a blood curdling scream.  "Oh no, Doug!," Nikki cried.  "What's going on?" they heard and turned to find Slappy there behind them petting his gorgeous afro.   Before they could react, they noticed they were being surrounded by a slew of heavy metal biker zombies (or possibly just drunken idiots).  They were growling, "Disco must die.  Disco must die."  A spotlight descended from the

heavens illuminating the lovely Ms. Starr.  Being the consummate professional she is, she started to sing the first thing that popped into her head - "At first I was afraid, I was petrified..."  The metal zombies were momentarily entranced by her dulcet tones.  On cue, Cozy kicked in the track on their van's shiny new 8-track stereo, and the scene was flooded with 5000 watts of thumping disco power as "I Will Survive" blasted forth.  The metalheads flew into a berserk rage, charging our heroes.  The band unleashed their Disco Fury, spinning into action.  For thru their world travels they had each secretly become skilled warriors, unbeknownst to each other.  Slappy's hair picks whistled thru the air and impaled a pair of foes in a flash.  Cozy pulled a pair of oversized drumsticks from the back of his coat, smashing a zombie biker skull with a strike that clapped like thunder.  Stevel whipped out a katana, stashed who knows where, and heads began to roll.  West reached to the back of his white polyester pants, and pulled out a pair of silver-plated six guns with silver bullets, and began blazing.  Nikki grabbed her earrings, which were in fact throwing stars, they spun thru the air and took down a couple more grungy ghouls.  In just moments, the zombies were all dispatched.  They stared at each other in astonishment.  "Let's roll before the fuzz catches wind of this.  We've got a gig tonight, my brothers and sisters" said West.  With that they jumped in the Dodge and burnt rubber.  

 

COMING SOON  PART 2 - THE GIG

 

Enter the Apocalypse ...

The Polyester Apocalypse is a hot boogie band who were poised to be the biggest band in the world in 1979, when a bizarre incident involving a hotwired wah-wah pedal and some brown acid sucked them into a time warp that landed them in 2011.  If you want to know more, you will need above top secret clearance.