Edan To Come Over To Your Mom’s House, Treat Her Right, Maybe Tour Too

So Mr P rolls up to my house, and he's all hopped up on crack — you can tell he's high cuz he punches more than usual. He comes up to my house and he's just yelling through my window: "Hey, nunpuncher! nunpuncher! Get the fuck down here!" and he's got Matt Weir leaning on the side of his Chevy cracking his knuckles like he's in some kind of gangster film or something.

"What the fuck do you want?" I shout through my window. "You already made me say The Decemberists haven't advanced musically since their first album — I don't owe you shit! Leave me alone!"

"Get down here!" he says again. He's grinning. Shit. "I've got something!"

Before I'm even through my door, he's pulled me to the ground and I've got a mouth full of pavement. Weir's got a foot on the back of my neck, and he's pushing hard.

"Mr P wants you to write a news story about Edan's new tour," Weir says. "He's playing with Lyrics Born and Cut Chemist. Dagha's gonna be rapping with him, too. Now do what Mr P says."

I get about halfway through a good fuck-you before Mr P kicks me over and grabbed ahold of my nutsack.

"Listen, boy. I've got halfuhdozen newswriters to get through before midday, and, you little shit, you ain't nearly the greatest of my concerns. It certainly don't look like you're in any kind of situation to push back. So are you gonna squeal, little piggy, or are am I gonna have to make yer?"

"Doesn't Edan, like, write for this site?" I say. "Make him do it! It's his freakin' tour. Besides, didn't it start last week anyway??"

Whack. Feels like a freakin' crowbar in my side. I look up. It is. Weir's looking for blood. "That's a different Edan, you no good piece of shit. And yes the tour started last week, but nevermind: The next three words out of your mouth had better be 'I'll do it.'

"Okay, okay! I'll do it! Christ!" I say. Way it looks, I don't have much choice. I just want to get rid of them.

Weir crumples up a little piece of paper and stuffs it into my mouth. "Good boy," he says. Taps my cheek. "Two days." Then they drive off.

Shit, I think I hear someone coming. Quick, just take this and run:

11.02.06 - Minneapolis, MN - Foundation Nightclub
11.03.06 - Milwaukee, WI - Eagles Club
11.04.06 - Chicago, IL - The Abbey Pub
11.05.06 - Detroit, MI - Magic Stick
11.06.06 - Toronto, ON - Phoenix Concert Theatre

11.08.06 - South Burlington, VT - Higher Ground
11.09.06 - Cambridge, MA - Middle East Downstairs
11.10.06 - New York, NY - Webster Hall
11.11.06 - Philadelphia, PA - Theater of Living Arts