[DownOnRodeo]

Coming to a town fair near you...

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STEVIE

(lights candles)

Gather round, my children. My gypsy urchins. My forgotten chimpanzees.

(plays a stunning array of two chords on piano with fervent intensity)

Welcome to an Evening of Classic Mac, with me your host--Madame Nicks.

Some say this is my band now.

But then again... some say illusions are my game.

(attempts dramatic David Copperfield flourish but gets tangled in glittery shawl)

CHRISTINE

(polite cough)
Can we play some music now?

STEVIE

(makes gesture to sound guy to cut Chris' mic)

The history of Fleetwood Mac is long and storied. Just like my song introductions.
And nobody knows its history quite like me, its foremost storyteller and poet. The writer of its sole US #1 song. A song called Dreams. Which I wrote.

And so, let's take a dream together, shall we? Back through the mists of time, to where it all began. Yes, with that cute little blues band in London.

That's right--who could forget Rick Mayall & the Studebakers?

After all, that was where my darling backing musicians, Mick and John, first met and played together. The rest is history. And I know it all. Because I have listened to all the old albums. At least once. Sometime in the evening of December 31, 1974. Possibly while cleaning the apartment.

When people ask me, "Stevie, which member from the band's past has left the most indelible impression on its legacy?" I say to them, "Hah! That's any easy one. Let's see here--Bob... Bob Brunning? No. Wait. It's Bob West... Bob Westeros. Best Western. No, it's Bob.. Ricky Bobby. Bobby Brown... Bob.. You know what? Just all of them. They are all my children. The forgotten Bobs."

(band gets restless and starts playing opening strains of Station Man)

Another classic from the Mac of yore! You know, Station Master is one of my favorites.

Because it was Christine's first song, after she quit Shake Shack and joined us.

CHRISTINE

(quietly into mic)

This song was written by Danny Kirwan, actually.

STEVIE

(rattles tambourine loudly)

Sorry Chris, couldn't hear you there.

And so the band's name grew, until the legend became a myth, and the guitarists started going missing.

For me, the Bob Welsh years are a blur. I got Lindsey to listen to those ones. I was tired from all the cleaning. But who could forget such classic Welsh hits as... Hypothesize? Or my personal favorite... Emeraldize?

CHRIS, MICK, and JOHN

Good night, everyone!
Thank you!
Good night.

STEVIE

Wha--Wait, I'd only just started my talk...

JOHN

We're doing them a favour. You don't know what you're talking about.

MADAME NICKS

(makes spell-casting gesture)

May the ghost of Peter Green follow you down and haunt you!

MICK

Peter is still alive. I had tea with him just the other weekend.

MADAME NICKS

(hurls a crystal ball onto the stage floor, and disappears in a cloud of smoke)