The Demon gets baked

The Party - Detroit 1974

Detroit loved KISS and they showed them how much one evening in '74. After their show they were presented with a special award and a party was thrown in their honor. It was also the promoter's birthday so there were goodies of all kinds.

I was Gene's guest that night. We'd been hanging out together and getting kinda close lately so it was only natural that he asked me to be his date. I didn't know if tonight would be the night something happened between us but we seemed to be headed in that direction. There was a lot of flirtation and sexual tension between us. It was well known that Gene liked his girls, and I was a girl who liked to be liked. Especially by brown eyed, hairy chested hunks. It was the perfect storm.

It was ironic really that as much as the two of us looked like hippies we were the only ones there not partaking in drugs or alcohol. His band mates were half lit along with everyone else but that stuff never appealed to Gene. His only weakness (besides girls) was sweets.

After the cake had been cut and the presents unwrapped I excused myself for a moment to go to the ladies room and fix my makeup. When I got back to the party there were waitresses making rounds with trays piled high with brownies. Now I had heard the guys talking earlier and I knew that they had been made with hash. So my stomach dropped when I got back to the table and saw Gene stuffing one the size of a phone book in his mouth.

"Gene! What are you doing?"

"Having a brownie. Want me to get you one?" He said around a mouthful.

"Gene, don't you know those are pot brownies?"

He just looked at me with his mouth full and blinked a few times. After a second he swallowed and said, "What? Nah... I'm having another one," and stuffed the rest of the one he was holding in his mouth.

"I'm not kidding. I heard someone talking about it. They're made with hash. Nobody told you?"

He was starting to look a little worried. "Come on, Y/n,who would defile perfectly good chocolate with drugs? "


" Oh, I don't know. Maybe them. " I pointed to Peter and Ace who kept looking over at us and snickering. When he turned around and saw how the guys were acting he knew for sure then that he'd been had.

"Okay, please tell me you only had the one brownie." I knew that wasn't likely. Like I said before Gene has a major sweet tooth.

"Not exactly..." He looked sheepish like a kid who just got caught in the cookie jar. It would have been funny under other circumstances.

"How many?"

"Three... or four... maybe six..."

I sighed and put a hand over my eyes.
"Oh, man, you're gonna be fucked up for a month."

His eyes started to widen. I knew that he didn't do drugs but I'd forgotten how naive he was about them. I'd heard about him once putting cocaine in his coffee at the recording studio thinking it was sweetener.

"No, no. Not really. Don't panic. But you are gonna feel really weird the rest of the night."

" Well, I feel fine so far. Maybe it won't do anything. " He said. His expression was so hopeful. Poor Gene.

Sure enough in no time he was flying, looking around fascinated by every little thing he saw. It was like he'd just landed on Ace's imaginary planet, Jendell. Everyone else thought it was hilarious but I knew how upset he would be after he came back down. Drugs went against his whole constitution. I stuck close to him keeping an eye out to make sure he didn't get into too much trouble. He started talking really loud and patting the sides of his head like he was checking the size of it, or maybe to make sure it was still attached.

After a bit he came up to me and said, "Y\N, I THINK I NEED TO LEAVE! EVERYONE'S LAUGHING AT ME!" I covered my ears because he was still yelling. "Hey, inside voice, Gene. I can hear you just fine."

So we left. I helped him to the car because his depth perception seemed a little off. He was walking like the ground wasn't quite solid under his feet. I was practically holding him up, thanking God that we had a driver and that Gene didn't drive himself.

I wanted to strangle Peter and Ace, maybe Paul, too (not sure if he was in on it or not,) and I was kicking myself for not tipping Gene off to what I'd heard about the brownies. But I assumed he already knew. I also assumed that they wouldn't bring them out until after we left since Gene and I were anti drug. And I was kinda counting on leaving early with him, if you know what I mean.

Heading to the hotel Gene suddenly realized he was thirsty. Thirstier than he'd ever been before in his life, apparently. And only milk would suffice. He tapped the driver on the shoulder, still speaking loudly. "Hey! Pull over to that place there!"

The place was a seedy little all night convenience store in a rough looking part of the city. I clung tightly to his arm as we walked inside. It was dimly lit. Only a couple of people were there not counting the guy behind the counter.

Everyone looked up at us as Gene said in a loud clear voice, "Can I get a glass of milk, please!" I wanted to disappear at that point.

"We don't sell glasses of milk here, son," said the guy at the counter, giving us a look that was part disgust and part weariness. You could tell he probably saw a lot of people in Gene's current condition on a nightly basis.

A look came over Gene's face that would've looked right at home on the face of a five year old that just found out that Christmas has been cancelled.

"Thanks anyway, sir. Sorry we bothered you," I said as I lead Gene out the door. "Come on. We'll find a diner and have a bite to eat. They should have milk." This perked him up a little.

The driver took us to an all night diner where we had burgers and fries. I sipped on a diet Coke while Gene chugged down two glasses of milk. When our food was brought over he dug in with gusto. The munchies stage had hit him. It didn't take us long to finish our meal before we headed back to the hotel.