The taste of blood fills your mouth. You feel the inside of your lip with your tongue to assess the damage. You can barely see out of your right eye, but your attention is quickly brought back to the gun pointed at your face.
How did I get here, you think. But there’s no time to dwell on the thought. Your friend turns to you, the look of worry evident in his eyes, knowing the risk he’s about to suggest.
“Say his name,” he says.
“No,” you reply. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Your friend insists. “Say. His. Name.”
“Shut up!” one of your captors bellows, hitting your friend with the butt of his pistol. Your friend collapses to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“No!” you let out. You close your eyes and pray for forgiveness, knowing the transgression you’re about to commit.
“Chase Ford and the Gummy Boys,” leaves your lips in a soft whisper. You open your eyes to find that nothing has changed. You hang your head and begin to silently weep. At least you tried. It’s been a good life.
As your tears bathe the dirt floor of the abandoned warehouse you’re being kept in, you hear a sound in the distance growing. The sweet sound of hope grows as it nears. The eyes of the four men in ski masks holding you hostage widened as fear sets in, realizing the grave mistake they’ve made. Deliverance is nigh.
There he is. Utah indie rock legend Chase Ford exiting a grey Astro van with his band of life sized gummy bears* coming to your rescue. And just like that, you’re in a scene from a Robert Rodriguez film, though tonally it’s more akin to the news team fight from Anchorman.
You’re knocked to the ground amidst the melee. With your hands tied behind your back, it’s hard to get an idea of the madness unfolding around you.
Did I just see a gummy bear with a machete?
The Gummy Boys make quick work of your assailants, subduing them in what seems a matter of seconds. Before you know it, someone is loosening your bonds, and you’re back on your feet outside of the warehouse that served as your brief prison. You run to your friend to make sure he’s okay.
“Thank you,” are the only words you manage to get out as Chase and the gummy bears are already getting back in their van. Their work is done.
“Don’t thank me,” Chase says, lighting a cigarette with a match. “Thank rock ’n’ roll.”
He flicks the lit match into a trail of gasoline leading back to the warehouse where your kidnappers have been tied up. He closes his door and drives off as the warehouse burst into flames, leaving you bewildered by his response, and by the fact that they left you there so near the explosion.
There is a metaphor somewhere in this story about what it’s like listening to the new Chase Ford and the Gummy Boys EP, Howdy, or what it’s like to see them play live, but I’m just not smart enough to tell you exactly what it is. Thanks for reading.
*The Gummy Boys are not actually gummy bears. The real reason they’re called the Gummy Boys is because they’re always looking like a snack.