It was the last gig of the tour before a well-deserved one week break in Spain. The show at Roskilde was about to begin. Sun was shining, fans aligning, sound engineers seeing the silver lining… well now, who said a Queens of the Stone Age gig wouldn’t make you a poet?
Backstage, the band was preparing as well. Troy – rearranging his tie, Mike and Dean – popping their joints, and Jon… well, Jon was busy air drumming. All alone in a corner, mysterious sunglasses on and everything, Josh Homme was blowing smoke rings out of his mouth. He finally laid his unseen eyes upon a freakishly large and ugly roach. The monster was climbing up the wall Josh had been laying against.
Calmly and without even moving, Josh said:
– I guess we’re all the devil’s little creatures. You remind me of home. In the desert, people see some of your even weirder brothers and sisters and just wanna leave. They wanna head out into civilization. But not me… I embrace it.
The roach took a few more steps and moved his large antennas.
– You don’t seem impressed. Well then, do you know the difference between a Tele and a Strat? Of course you don’t… God, you’re so ignorant sometimes, I swear. Lemme put it in simple words for you. So, thing is…
In the middle of what seemed to be a one man conversation, Jon Theodore showed up. He obviously wasn’t familiar with Josh’s strange yet funny ways.
– Alright, man, let’s go on stage. Are you… talking to a cockroach?
– Of course. It’s not like I’m insane, to fuckin’ talk to myself… This is not a derpy Tom Hanks movie, muttered Josh grumpily, underlining the obvious. But I sure as hell found my Wilson…
Josh politely saluted the roach, raising the metal horns to the creature. Then he went on stage.
The Lucky Chu 