Worcestor, MA-Over two thousand years ago, Greek orator Demosthenes and Persian General Xerxes glared at eachother across the battlefield. "When your people are enraged," yelled Xerxes, "they will tear you to pieces." "And your people will tear you to pieces," came back the immediate reply, "when they come to their senses."
Xerxes was not torn to pieces but Demosthenes' prediction was only delayed and redirected at Fred Durst and his rap-rock band Limp Bizkit.
At a sold out concert at the Worcestor Centrum in western Massachusetts, the headline act for the Family Values tour was literally reduced to a pile of bloody body parts.
"I think we may've been a bit too hasty in banning the mosh pit and cracking down so hard on drugs," admits Worcestor Police Chief Joe Martorelli. "This had the effect of a houseful of cult deprogrammers, since it forced the kids to concentrate on the music and the lyrics."
"At first, I didn't think anything was out of place," said Limp Bizkit security chief Bud "Butthead" Sloan. "I thought that Fred and the kids just collectively said, 'Fuck the cops' and started a mosh pit.
"Even when Fred started body surfing and screaming like a banshee in boiling oil, I still didn't see or hear anything that I haven't already seen or heard at any other Limp Bizkit concert."
"We thought that the kids were just having some harmless, albeit illegal, fun," said Patrolman Sam Madison, "until we observed that, each time he came around, there was less and less of the victim (Durst)."
Watching a videotape playback of the ill-fated concert, Worcestor police finally learned what had happened. In slow motion, the video revealed that the band's goateed front man didn't jump into a mosh pit but was pulled off the stage by an enraged mob that apparently had just realized that they've been hoodwinked for five years.
After the 27 year old Durst was drawn and quartered by the enlightened youths, the band kept playing Nookie despite the sudden and notable absence of Durst's screamed obscenities.
"There! Right there is when (lead guitarist Wes) Borland peers over the edge of the stage, presumably looking for Durst," said Chief Martorelli as he pointed to the monitor in rapt fascination. "There goes Borland… then an ear… there goes… I don't know what the hell that was, but it musta hurt…"
In a matter of minutes, the instruments stopped playing one by one like a reverse fugue until there was no one on the stage. Only a few puzzled and pale hangers on clutching their backstage passes remained.
Crowd reaction to the medieval-style execution of Limp Bizkit was mixed.
"It was, like, totally gross, with all the blood and entrails. Yuck!", said 15 year old Jennifer Goldfarb, who traveled two hours from West Newton to see the ripoff rappers. "But where does that ugly, misogynistic little troll get off calling us girls 'bitches' and, like, making us pay for the privilege?!"
"I hate to see anyone die like that," said Loretta Mapes, 39, who'd chaperoned her two kids to the concert, "but now I won't have to listen to that godawful caterwauling and potty mouth at home. Well, there's the hubby, too, but maybe at the next Avon meeting, me and the girls can set up our own little 'mosh pit'."
"I haven't seen anything like this since Altamont," confides the police chief as an unidentified youth was seen on the monitor brandishing Wes Borland's trademark black contacts with the eyes still attached to them, screaming, "Oh, you wanna play that game, bitch?!" "I guess they thought it would be nice if they could touch his body, and then some. Heh heh."