by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

If you think rock musicians are cool, you’ll dig the Röck Fight event going down this weekend. If you think they’re snivelling jackanapes deserving of a sound trouncing, you’ll dig Röck Fight twice as hard.

Yes, the six bands competing will be allowed to bash out a few numbers. But the real fun happens when they bash each other in the Dildo Nunchuck Fights, the Skateboard Jousts, the No-Mercy Boxing matches, the Ultraviolent Dodgeball games (the ball is wrapped in chains) and the Long-Distance Egghead Brainbash (something involving eight-foot swords and helmets with eggs attached).

Taking place at the Ugly Ass Bikes indoor BMX park—accessible by buses 37 and 78, metro Jolicoeur or in classic rock-musician fashion, via a lift from your mom—Röck Fight sounded so brilliantly stupid that the Mirror just had to get the lowdown from organizer Panic, whose band the Trigger Effect will be competing.

Mirror: How did this superior concept come together?

Panic: To be completely honest, it was just one of those things that seems to flower out of nowhere. The Turbo Machine [the “gang/production company/record label” with which Panic is affiliated] always seems to sprout the most retarded ideas. The difference is that we go through with them. If it’s a really bad idea, chances are we’re gonna take it all the way, whether it means stalking and stealing giant one-armed ex-julep dolls, going Christmas carolling in Halloween costumes or putting on shows that would make baby Jesus cry—done, done and done.

The idea for the dildo nunchucks probably came because we have a pet dildo lying around the house. It’s a big black double-dondelanger and it’s a lot of fun to throw at people who have never been to your house before. The Long-Distance Egghead Brainbash came about because I had made a sword while working in renovation... and then something about eggs... Good Lord, I really don’t know how we come up with this shit.

See ya later, gladiator

M: It’s well known that rock musicians are lazy, irresponsible and immature—one might assume that they are also chickenshit wimps. Are they in fact braver and more stouthearted than they are given credit for, or did you use some other means to coerce them into this foolishness?

P: Oh, hell no. Rockers are such pussies. Only the drug-addicted ones are brave and/or stouthearted. I must have asked 80 bands to play, and now there are six. There were supposed to be eight, but I gave up. I think six is actually going to work better, because the tournament ladder goes up and down, so that the losers will play each other too.

But man, you wouldn’t believe the responses I got. It made me wanna quit playing rock and join Wu-Tang. I asked this one band called Disgust to play, and what with their obscenely violent song titles and blood-splattered album artwork, I figured this would be right up their alley. They wrote back, “We believe in community, not competition.” Oh, for fuck’s sake.

And yes, I did have a carrot on a string to lure these poor suckers out. I’ve actually gotten in touch with some people to see about turning this concept into a reality TV series. I think it would be great, like the competition of American Idol—without the big fucking garbage aspect—mashed with American Gladiator, mashed with MXC. The idea has been loosely presented to both Much and the channel that used to be MTV Canada, and both have expressed interest. There’s going to be a camera crew there, filming the whole thing, so that we can cut the footage into a trailer for when we do full presentations.

Hurt’s so good

M: I was a little saddened to note that protective gear will be involved. I sincerely hope that there will be at least a small window of possibility for severe injury, permanent disfigurement, or at least some schlock-rocking welfare wizard curled up in a pool of his own blood, crying like a baby for his mommy.

P: Oh, don’t you worry, there’s always a window of possibility for horrible mangling. Is that a word? Mangling? It is now. The swords actually fit through the facemasks, so we might have a few exploding eyeballs. The boxing is taking place on a spine ramp about five feet off the ground, so maybe, just maybe, if someone falls off the ramp just right, we’ll all hear the sweet sound of his arm breaking in at least 30 places. And there’s always the possibility that a dildo will sneak under a helmet, into a mouth and out the back of a skull. They’re sneaky as hell, those prosthetic penises.

M: Despite your impartiality as organizer, I must ask—are there particular members of any of the bands who harbour advantages in strength, speed, deviousness, cruelty or moral vacuity that will make them stand out as champs in this event—or any whose suffering and humiliation promise to be particularly amusing or satisfying?

P: Hmmm. I heard that Lady has a secret weapon that they’re going to unleash. Something about a behemoth gimp. And see, Humanifesto is a vegan, political-activist band, and so you would expect them to be chock-full of morals and completely free of cruelty. But no. Every time I see those motherfuckers, I see this fiery rage in their eyes, and the corners of their mouths get all frothy when they tell me, “Röck Fight is gonna be awesome, maaaan...” A friend of mine suggested that they actually might be at a disadvantage for the jousting since their stomachs would not be as hardened by years of eating hormone-doped meat, but what with all that enthusiasm and possibly rabies, I think they’ll be okay. And Ryan, singer of the Evil Boys, beat cancer, so there’s no way he’s getting taken down. As for the thin veneer of impartiality, it’s kind of hard for me to retain that since the rest of my band is competing in this vile tournament. But I’m not worried because there’s no real judging. Whoever gets beat, gets beat. There’s no disputing a trail of nasty egg innards dripping off the front of your helmet into your defeated mouth.

With Trigger Effect, Lady, Humanifesto, Evil Boys, Road Bones and Pelvic Thrust at Ugly Ass Bikes (1935 de l’Eglise) on Saturday, March 25, 8 p.m., $10

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