ahemm.
:tap, tap: This thing on?
'kay.
This is gonna be a long story, but it’s a good one. Here, have a beer, a smoke of your choice, and hear the True Story of Tagish Elvis, the only man I know of to ever get an apology from Larry Flynt. Yep, that Larry Flynt.
Now, back before Elvis was Elvis, his name was Gilbert Nelles. He was a strapping red-headed man in his late thirties.
Gilly was a nice man. A self-employed artist, who made money in the souvenir trade, and did pretty good oil paintings. He was, however, a few cards short a full deck. He was prone to long stories about MIBs and other such conpiracies, all aimed at him for reasons he would never specify, just hint darkly at. However, somehow, all his business ideas seemed to pretty much work out.
The uhmm, random tendancies were not helped when he moved into his new house, which he had built out of old telephone poles. A cosy little one-room cabin, with a big-ass airtight stove in it. For those not already cringing, let me tell you the creosote fumes in there when that stove was going were thick enough to choke on. We his friends feel this had bearing on what happened after that. Creosote poisoning.
The transformation into Elvis was gradual, gradual enough that the inhabitants of Carcross and Tagish didn’t realize what was happening. Gilly liked to come into the bar in Carcross now and again, and play piano and sing Elvis tunes. About as well as you might imagine. Then, the 'Boo (Caribou Hotel) got a karaoke machine. Well, now Gilly was fascinated. Technogadgets and music! He started coming in even more regularly, to karaoke to Elvis.
Gilly liked the karaoke machine so much, he had a brilliant new business scheme - he’d set up an tourist kiosk where tourists could pan for gold, and he could entertain them with his karaoke act! Without further ado, in true Gilly fashion, he put said plan into action.
Yes, about five years ago or so, there was indeed a kiosk in Carcross, Yukon Territory where you could pan for gold and be serenaded by a bad Elvis “tribute performer”. I wouldn’t lie to you nice people, I think somebody’s got pictures . . .
The next phase was during that winter season, during one of Gilly’s “business trips”. We have never been entirely sure what he does on these trips, since the MIB’s are always interfering, but he gets his souvenirs from somewhere. Anyways, this trip was to Nevada. And according to Gilly, what happened next belongs right up there with Roswell.
Gilly and a friend were out driving in the desert and they got lost. All of a sudden, there it was! A bright light that immobilized the car! I have little details on what happened next, (Gilly’s a little sensitive about the matter), but in the process of being sampled and whatever else aliens do to someone they kidnap, they recognized his true quality. Realizing that only Gilbert Nelles embodied the True Spirit™ of the King, the aliens injected him with Elvis Presley’s DNA! Ever since, he has been slowly turning into Elvis.
He then got his name legally changed, to, you guessed it, “Elvis Aron Presley”.
Now, he would’ve been nothing but a local “Colorful 5%” celebrity, driving his blue suede caddy with the plaster cherubs glued to the top and serenading tourists, were it not for the next series of events.
One of your stereotypical neighborhood feuds flared up with Elvis in the middle of it. His neighbor decided that Elvis had made threats, and was going to lay charges. Everything would’ve been fine, except that in his report, the officer in charge of his case called Elvis “crazy”. He might have his synapses wired funny, but he is not stupid. He read it and went ballistic.
He sued the RCMP to the tune of four million dollars, for defamation of character and loss of earnings. Plus an apology.
We the residents were mightily amused by the whole thing. Elvis enlivened an extremely dull winter with this one, it was the talk of the town for weeks. How’d he do? A dollar, an apology, and a get-the-hell-out-of-my-court.
However, Larry Flynt, the king of sleaze, heard about the lawsuit, and decided it was perfect fodder for one of his “Asshole of the month” columns. Elvis would’t have cared but Larry made rude remarks about Elvis’ mother. He was having none of that.
Next lawsuit, Larry Flynt vs Elvis Aron Presley, for libel. At first, Larry and the Hustler hierarchy thought this was pretty funny - some little nobody from nowhere (and loopy to boot) was daring to challenge them, but as the countdown went on, tension rose. All Elvis wanted was an apology, but if it went to court, Larry and Hustler could be looking at some serious cash outlay if they lost, and it wasn’t looking good for them.
Finally, just before things went to court, a teeny, back-handed three-line apology was printed as one of the column asides. Elvis retired from the fray, triumphant.
How’s Elvis doing now? Pretty good, I still see him around now and again, in his jumpsuits and black sideburns. Looks kinda interesting when he forgets to redye his eyebrows, though. He’s recorded a couple of tapes that I’ve never listened to, though other people tell me he’s passable, but definitely NOT Elvis. The blue suede Caddy packed it in, so he got himself a custom pink Caddy convertible. Even had the pink paint custom blended. Too bad it faded to white the next summer - now he won’t drive it. The aliens still visit him at his cabin (I’ll bet!). And he’s still in the souvenir trade.
Oh yeah, and don’t call him Gilbert anymore. He’s Elvis!
A little long - OK, a LOT long, but I felt that the community here might like to know the REAL story.
Tisiphone
(hey Odieman, mentor ol’ buddy, how’s my first thread?)