Beware the Demon, El Gato...

(aka: Scott)

NEW:   El Gato's Big Ones - The ultimate music collection!!!

October '99

I was going to add a caption to this incredible image of El Gato.....
...but words failed me on this one! ;-)

May 1997...

We were terrorized again by the El Gato Demonic one himself yesterday. He pulled up on his Softail Custom...belching sulphur and brimstone. Scottie blamed this on an out-of-tune carb...but we knew better! The reddish glow out the back of the pipes was a really kewl touch as was the anguished howl that his nefarious scoot wailed on every gear change. You would swear he had thousands of lost souls inside that tranny that were being chewed up by the gears.

As a warning to all....demonic time is rather different from time as the rest of us mere mortals perceive it. El Gato assured us that his satanic watch showed him to be on time, even though we thought he was two hours late....but the smoke billowing from his nose and ears caused us to reconsider arguing the point.

The Spirit Catcher - Barrie Waterfront

We took the Demonic one and his angelic sidekick, Michelle (though she looked pretty damned nasty (read: good) all tucked into some tight black leathers) out for a ride along the waterfront in Barrie. Dropped in at Odin's Brush (where Derrek did Dana's new ink). Derrek explained to the steaming Big MacQuarrie that he could create some tempered needles from T440 and titanium that would possibly penetrate that scaled green flesh the Demonic One flaunts, so El Gato ordered up a custom drawing in prep for getting his virgin ink (can demons ever be considered virginous?). We saw Scottie staring at some horrific images to be embossed onto his skin (at least we figure the cute little angels would be quite terrifying to him)...but he relented and decided on a Yin/Yang image of twisting dragons. Guess he didn't want to be too risque on the first go round.

Swinging by the Spirit Catcher for a photo-op (me with hardened lenses installed in the camera to counter the fierceness of his evil countenance), we then took Satan's Spawn up through the pastoral farmland north of Barrie. The cows and chickens ran in fear as we thundered past. I'm sure the milk will be curdled along the whole route.....and chicks will be born with two heads.

El Gato, Michelle and Danamania on the Waterfront

We herded him past the big police headquarters where all the sirens simultaneously engaged and took him to a roadhouse to feed his insatiable appetites. El Gato was foaming at the mouth wanting to fill that cavernous belly of his...fortunately he waited for the appetizers and did not munch down on the waitress. Truly, the term "Ride to Eat" was eclipsed yesterday with a demonic "Ride to Gorge".

After a hasty conference, Dana and I made up a great story about having a concert to go to that evening and sent the Evil one on the road back to the hells of Toronto.....as the roar of his Big Twin faded in the distance....we heard the echos of some horrendous demonic cackling.

It was a Hemingway type of ride. We laughed...He cried. (And seeing a grown demon cry at the end of a ride is truly a humbling experience...guess he liked the ride and we get to see the light of another day, eh?).

We survived yet another Sighting(tm) of the most demonic kind!

March 1997...

We're still shuddering after the experience and counting our lucky stars that we survived the horror intact this weekend.

When we had arranged to meet the (in)famous El Gato (Scottie MacDougal or MacStonecutter...though BIG Mac might be the most accurate label) little did we suppose that he, in actuality, existed in the flesh and would keep the arranged assignation.

The lovely Michelle...

While standing amidst helmets, gloves, leather riding apparel and tables of rusty bike parts, absorbing the atmosphere of the Toronto Bike Show and Swap meet yesterday, the room suddenly got dark as the light was occluded by a massive obstruction. The temperature dropped instantly 10 degrees, so complete was the blockage of light. We could faintly smell a peculiar odour, which we eventually figured out was a combination of brimstone and sulphur, emanating from the hulk that was bearing down upon our helpless selves.

My first reaction was to do the gentlemanly thing and hide behind the Maniac's skirts....'cept she was wearing jeans so that plan was nixed! We desperately searched for a hiding spot amongst the tables of bike detrius....but alas, the demonic presence was upon us before we could make good our escape.

We craned our necks upwards, shivering in our boots....only to be met by a beautiful face with a wide smile and gorgeous eyes. This angel that had miraculously appeared amongst the barbaric onslaught introduced herself as "Michelle". Our thoughts of salvation at the appearance of this good spirit were soon dashed as a voice straight from The Exorcist boomed down at us from the heights: "Hi! I'm El Gato....aka Scott".

Truely, what met our eyes was a sight no mere mortals should have to endure. Standing 6 foot four inches and a million or so, shaggy, bearded, and looking like we might make a good snack for his massive frame was the mythical Scottie himself.

After a quick change of underwear in the washroom, we thought it best to humour this ominous, imposing figure that had some resemblance to a human being.....we toured the show with Michelle doing her best to offset the snorting, ranting, raping and pillaging of her companion.

...I buried the bodies here!

Afterwards, El Gato insisted that we join him for dinner. We had visions of roasting on a spit to fill the cavernous gut of this monster...but fortunately, he only wanted half a cow downed with copious gallons of Cerveza and Scotch, all the while puffing away demonically on a huge stogie, which he had cowered the management of the establisment into giving to him. We thought the manager was toast when he apologized for not having a proper cigar cutter to trim the beast's stogie with. Handing El Gato a huge meat cleaver, you could see the proprietor's hand shaking in fear. But the demon was gracious and with a single whack he only took off the head. Of the cigar, much to the relief of the manager and ourselves. Even Michelle blanched at the twack of the knife as it dug into the table. With a satanic grin, El Gato turned to the manager and insisted in no uncertain tone that the quivering manager provide us with drinks on the house for having ruined his "cigar experience". The smell of burning sulphur wafted after the proprietor as he ran across to fullfil El Gato's bidding.

The rest of the night we were entertained by stories of how the demonic one terrorized some kidnappers in Columbia where now the Medellein Cartel quake with fear at the hint of the name "El Gato". He regaled us with stories of visiting Satan's wrath on the poor pious Mormons in Utah riding a smoke-belching Harley and exuding sulpurous steam as the folks hid their wives, children and sheep from the apparition that stalked them. On a lighter note (the free Scotch having mellowed the Hellish one somewhat), he then proceeded into a running commentary on which horseradish and mustard brands were the best for consuming unwary children with. How he smacked his lips in glee was a terrifying sight.

At last, the cigar, scotch and Michelle's tender administrations tamed the horrible beast and we managed to escape, driving at a fantastic pace to reach the distant safety of Barrie. Scott "El Gato" is real. He is terrible. He is huge and demonic. Beware his voracious appetite and lock your shutters lest he find his way to your neighbourhood to terrorize the innocent and naive.

As for Michelle....she is worth risking the wrath of the demon for! ;-)

......Andrzej

Michelle, Scott, Dana & Andrzej

PS. We had a wonderful time! Good people...but I would expect no less of anyone from the Digest....

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