Dickinson officially out of his gourd

After midnight, Dickinson lets it all hang out.

Brittany Hendrick
Co-Editor In Chief

If you think Rob Dickinson is crazy, wait until you hear what kind of day he had.

It was reported last night, at approximately midnight, former Catherine Wheel singer Dickinson mysteriously metamorphosed into a pumpkin. The precise cause of the transformation is still unknown, but early reports say that it may have been a stipulation of Dickinson’s new recording contract with Sanctuary Records.

Merck Mercuriadis, label CEO and walking PR machine for everyone else but Dickinson, held a press conference this morning to explain the situation—and to accept full responsibility for Dickinson’s ailment.

“This is entirely my fault,” Mercuriadis explained. “It’s rather complex, but I had written in Rob’s contract that he must produce an album for release by midnight, 01 August 2004, or else be sued for breach of contract. The only way he could avoid a lawsuit is if he partook in another project I set up for him—which I did to save his ass, of course.”

Mercuriadis stopped to fight back tears, and continued.

“So, it was stated that Rob was to work with former Smashing Pumkpins drummer Jimmy Chamberlin. But somehow, the wording of the contract got changed: the verbiage said that Rob would turn into a pumpkin instead of work with a Pumpkin.”

It is unknown who tampered with Dickinson’s contract.

“If I wasn’t so busy fighting with Axl Rose, I would’ve been able to catch this error sooner,” Mercuriadis apologized.

Refusing to believe Mercuriadis would misguide him, Dickinson concluded, “This is clearly the work of Dave Hawes and his satanic powers. Why else would I have visited every dark alley in New York City for a glass test tube?”

To make up for his oversight, Mercuriadis took out a $1,000,000 insurance policy on Dickinson in case he got smashed on accident. Dickinson, currently in the custody of Mercuriadis’s young children, is expected to make a full recovery if kept indoors on Halloween night.

Dickinson’s former bandmates, however, were less optimistic.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to find Rob a nice pumpkin patch or some other farm in the midwestern United States,” drummer Neil Sims sighed. “As long as I don’t have to help haul the son of a bitch.”

“I always knew Rob was full of rubbish,” guitarist Brian Futter said in amazement, “But I never thought he’d atrophy to this.”

“Ee’bit Ee’kud fi’mint Roob ‘n’maik’m ‘n’tuh guhd lick’uh!” bassist Ben Ellis excitedly babbled.

Chamberlin, irritated that his own project was sidetracked, commented: “This certainly gives new meaning to Rob’s solo career being squashed.”

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