Tim ‘Report-Card’ Murphy :

Destiny as a concept is not fully endorsed as truth by everyone. Staring into his own wild eyes in the cracked mirror of the filthy bathroom in a cheap motel room, Surf ‘n’ Turf Murph might be inclined to tell you predestination is a fact, as yet again the sirens howl outside, & the blue/red strobes join the flickering neon in lighting the devastation of the mini-bar.
Voted ‘The Chap Most Likely to Find Himself Staring Into His Own Wild Eyes In a Cracked, Cheap Motel Mirror After Enjoying Several Items From The Mini Bar’ by his school chums, Tim has struggled against the inexorable flow of his life, for pretty much most of his life.

There have been long, peaceful periods, in which Tim has not had the opportunity to travel or the chance to book into a cheap motel on account of other commitments. Too soon though, it ends. An innocuous remark about the dangerously large amounts of annual leave accrued might be the gentle impact of the first domino to fall. A vote of confidence from the mechanic in the ability of the car to cope with a lengthy road trip, a surprisingly cheap flight available, or a warm invitation to visit a distant friend, however it begins; the end is already written.
A miniature bottle of gin and a packet of peanuts go first. Perhaps some of those tiny long-life milk containers might tempt, the seductive offer of a cooled cup of instant coffee. Something to snack on while enjoying the previously unseen Hollywood blockbuster on the motel’s movie channel sounds reasonable.

& There he is. Leaning over the sink, the fittings spotted with rust, & a faint stain around the plughole. Frantic, darting, eyes that wish to look anywhere but into their own reflection, drawn back again. How many items this time? Three? Four? Easily twenty or thirty dollars worth of mini bar stock gone, & the worst part is how easily it all went. It seems the terrible grip this habit has on Report-Card will never slacken.
As with all destructive habits, there has been an impact on friends and family. The long nights spent post the tearful confession, the over priced, nutrition free goods spilling from his bag. The countless interventions, the broken promises, the violent outbursts, all take their toll.

Nevertheless, we live in hope.





‘Steaming’ Jimmy Dirt :

Born the only son of landed gentry, Steaming Jim enjoyed a childhood of rare privilege. His summers spent on the estate, hunting fireflies with a stick, shaped him into the man he is today. He embraces order, craves chaos, and desires nothing short of everything. When asked what he wants for Christmas, Steaming Jim will generally laugh & shout, ‘A couple of pizzas & a carton of beer will do me fine!’
Well known as a raconteur & lady pleaser, he often finds himself crawling from bedroom windows, across manicured suburban lawns, & once abseiling down the side of a YWCA. He calls these his, ‘little adventures,’ & vows at some point to meet & possibly sleep with the women who own these bedrooms, lawns, & who enjoy staying at the YWCA.

‘Steaming’ Jim picked up his nickname while in the Navy. He enlisted as a young man, hoping to see the world, & have an excuse for wearing white patent leather shoes. On account of his high status background, Jim was able to head straight for officer training, & quickly found a position as ‘First Mate’ on a fantastic Clipper Ship, named the Fetid Martha.
Jim was very surprised to find these rather old fashioned ships still in use, as engaging the wind as the main form of propulsion had long since gone out of vogue, at least in ocean-going circles. Through the use of various textbooks & Internet cafés, Jim was able to provide information that brought the Navy much closer to the present, by engaging the use of coal powered steam paddleboats.

As is common with former Navy men, Jim worked in fashion after his retirement from the seas. The functionality & great cut of the calico pants that were popular among the many pirates he would drink with in various ports inspired his first, & perhaps best-remembered season. The gradual introduction of eye patches, parrots, tri-corner hats, & finally amputation of hands & legs & replacement with crude substitutes became less popular in later seasons.
After his move away from the fashion world, Jim sold mobile phones, drove a taxi, professionally gambled, horse whispered, & for a brief but memorable period was a court stenographer. In recent years Jim has been enjoying wide spread popularity as a DJ, & is available for weddings & 21st birthday parties, especially when the wedding & party guests are fans of Hard Trance & French House.





‘Busy Fingers' :

Matt ‘Ladyhawke’ Lucas is a walking miracle. His teen years were spent in various workshops, every spare moment head down over a hot-rod. He would proclaim to anyone who would listen just how much he loved hot-rods, & soon he had a reputation as a man who loved hot-rods.
The miraculous part of his tale comes from the fateful event that nearly took his life. As usual he was out & about after dark, cruising the strip with an eye for hot-rods. With glam rock blaring from the speakers, & pink fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror he cut quite a figure among his peers, but on that night he was struck by the vision of a hot-rod he had never encountered before.

As he tells it, he saw a group of rough looking boys gathered on a corner. He approached, having glimpsed something special in the midst of the throng. His heart was pounding, his palms sweating, as the boys parted & before him was the most beautiful hot-rod he had ever seen.
His voice softens to a whisper as he talks about that first proper look. Despite his years of hot-rodding, never had he encountered something this special. The sleek lines, the shining finish, the almost audible throb of power were simply breathtaking. Even then, he will tell you, he knew that it was probably too much to handle. Dangerous, is the description he will give you, pure uncut danger.

His reputation was nearly his downfall. Those rough looking boys eyed him off, and with cruel smirks they spurned him on. Even though he knew it was too much to handle, he felt he couldn’t back down.
The locals in his small town were used to the sights & sounds of the young men and their hot-rods all over the streets, and when he ran into trouble his predicament was very nearly ignored. The rough looking boys vanished at the first wail of the ambulance, Matt laid unconscious on the lawn of the church, saved only by the emergency call placed by the parish priest, who had glanced out his window to witness the near fatal rodding incident.

Ladyhawke rarely speaks of now, but he did glimpse the afterlife. Struck deep into a coma, he ascended toward the light. He will tell you of the heaven he witnessed, a rolling green expanse of some endless park, with thousands of boys, thousands of hot-rods. He gazed upon it, filled with calm, watching these boys happily working on their rods, muscles straining, and tools gripped tightly.
In that floating moment someone approached. Matt swears to this day he didn’t recognize that fellow’s face, smiling gently at him. He says the young man only said a few words to him, as he wiped his hands on a rag.

‘Ladyhawke, its not your time.’





Scott ‘DuBois’ Hansen :

Scott’s love of acting began in high school, where he memorably played the part of Blanche in the schools bi-annual production of, ‘A Street Car Named Desire.’ For the second of that year’s productions of, ‘A Street Car Named Desire’ Scott tackled the role of Stella, demonstrating his range & dynamic ability. The following year during the schools production of, ‘A Street Car Named Desire’ Scott played the role of Stanley, to mixed reviews.
After leaving high school Scott worked a number of different jobs while he studied acting at night. His first major role was in an off Broadway production of, ‘A Street Car Named Desire’ where he played the role of the young collector. The reviews were mostly positive, and off the back of these reviews he landed a coveted role in the made for television movie, ‘Bernie Taupin: Lyricist & Psychic Detective,’ a fictionalized portrayal of Elton John’s famed lyricist Bernie Taupin as a psychic detective in his free time. Scott played the part of Maxine Feibelman, Taupin’s first wife.

The number of roles on offer increased for Scott, after the success of the Bernie Taupin telemovie, & he began to explore his range & garnered further critical recognition of his talents. In the early 1990’s he played the part he remains best known for, revisiting Blanche DuBois in ‘A Streetcar Named Desire 2: Electric Boogaloo,’ an action film based around the premise Blanche DuBois was cryogenically frozen in an experiment while a patient at an asylum, & defrosted accidentally after four hundred years, to find the entire planet locked into a battle to the death with zombie Stanley Kowalski’s from outer space.
Of late Scott has enjoyed a return to theatre, & the immediacy of acting in front of a live audience. “Of course Blanche will always be with me,” Scott says, “But lately I have been enjoying myself in the role of Scott Hansen, a simple guy who plays guitar in a progressive rock band in the early 70’s. It is quite a departure.” However Scott’s latest role finishes up, he can be comfortable knowing his broad fan base will support these more experimental roles.





Gerard ‘G-force' Glynn :

Gerard has an obsession with perfection, in both the physical & mental state of being. Years spent as a personal trainer & motivational guru (Josh) has blessed Gerry with an unusually healthy glow. Despite his claims of once having a bad day, not one person has a memory of encountering anything other than his customary optimism & inspirational happiness.
When asked about the source of his unusual robust health & blissful happiness, Gerry answers coyly, “It must be balance, keeping it, you know?” When asked to elaborate further, questioners are greeted with a blush & a giggle. If a questioner persists, the coy replies quickly turn curt, almost bordering on angry.

Almost as well known as his perpetual joy, is Gerard’s love of Funk music. Ticking off each one on a raised finger, he lists his most treasured things as, “My collection of Funk MP3’s, my collection of coming-of-age films aimed at teenaged girls, my inflatable Red Hot Chili Peppers dolls, & a sandwich.” It quickly becomes clear he really, really likes the sandwich.





Colonel Sean ‘Horse-Balls’ Clift :

The sharpest operators carry the shadiest pasts, or so some will say. Colonel Sean ‘Horse-Balls’ Clift is such an operator. Shrouded in mystery, and enveloped in an ominous air, Colonel Sean comes from the tradition of businessperson who cannot tell where the lines of serious discussion and homicide blur.
Colonel Sean met the other fellows in a darkened bar, post a rather poorly attended show. The Colonel’s keen eye for opportunity immediately sized up the lads, and soon they were gathered around a table sipping the glasses of water the Colonel ordered with a flourish. He kept them enthralled with tales of his show business past and pulled nude pictures from his wallet he had cut from pornographic magazines to illustrate various points. The boys were awestruck and intimidated by the Colonel, and without a second thought all signed the contract he drafted on the back of a cardboard coaster.

The relationship has bloomed into something beautiful since that fateful night. The Colonel soothes the concerns variously voiced, eases the jangled nerves, and guides the fellows in turn, with a lovingly gentle hand or a wicked fist, as the occasion merits. The boys both love and admire their paternally inclined manager, choosing to ignore the sarcasm in his voice when he refers to them as, ‘the talent,’ & have not admitted to themselves the literal interpretation of his desire to have, ‘a stable of artists,’ despite the day he spent having them sized for saddles and bridles.