"We will not give up control of the band," Casting said. "It won't happen. We'll throw out this entire contract before we do that!"
"You can throw out the entire fucking contract," Matt said, "because we won't be able to make any new music anyway if we can't get those addicts back under control."
July stretched towards August. National offered to put rules in place similar to what had existed before but the band rejected this on grounds that they didn't trust National to enforce them.
"Your track record on this isn't that great," Jake said. "You were the ones who encouraged Darren and Coop to start using drugs before performances in the first place. You're the ones who send that coke-sniffing hypocrite out on tour with us to arrange for all these drugs. You made a mockery of our rules for whatever twisted reason and now you expect us to believe you'll enforce them? No, afraid not. We need real authority over our members, authority that is completely separate and independent from any interference by you or yours."
"We're not going to give Matt the authority to fire someone just because he got in a pissing match with him," Casting said. "That puts too much instability in the group. What if he fires you, Jake? Or you, Bill? This contract wouldn't be worth a shit to us if any one of you three goes."
Gradually, like a stream eroding a rock, they came to an agreement on the issue. It was decided that band discipline would be the responsibility of the entire band. No one person could fire a band member but a majority vote of all five members could. National tried to get a veto clause thrown in but it was soundly rejected. National itself could fire the entire band if it wanted, but could not fire an individual member without consent of a majority of the band. And then there was the matter of replacing a member if he were fired or quit or died. National wanted the right to find the new member themselves. Intemperance wanted the same. Eventually they agreed that the band would recruit any new member but National would have to agree to the choice in advance.
That was the final major issue to be fought over. Though they weren't done yet, they all began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Over the next few sessions they hammered out the rest of the details. The band would receive an advance of half a million dollars payable as soon as the contract was signed. Fifty percent of the debt from the previous contract would be forgiven, the other fifty percent would be paid off in quarterly installments by taking twenty percent out of their royalty checks. There was no need for housing clauses or transportation clauses or grocery clauses or manservant clauses since the band would be able to provide all of those things for themselves once the money started coming in. The band would retain the right to audit National Records at any time for any or no reason in regard to their album sales and expenses. National fought and kicked a bit on this issue but finally gave in. And then there was the issue of how many contract periods the contract would encompass. Pauline fought hard to hold it to only two but eventually agreed to four, which would make it go one album further than Intemperance's original contract had.
"Well then," asked Pauline. "Do we have a contract?"
"It would seem we do," Frowley said.
"Let's get it printed up and signed," Pauline said.
This took another two days to accomplish but on August 28, 1985, they dragged Darren and Coop out of their drug-haze and took them down to the National Records Building. All five of them put their signatures on the paper and it became official.
They went to Jake's condo after the signing ceremony and opened several bottles of champagne to celebrate. The festive mood didn't last very long, however. There was still serious business to attend to. Jake and Matt called Darren and Coop into Jake's office and sat them down.
"We need to talk, guys," Jake told them.
"No problemo, Jake," Darren said. "You gonna tell us when our money is coming in?"
"Fuck yeah," agreed Coop. "They're actually going to cut us a fuckin' check for eighty grand? I mean, like really?"
"It's not a check," Matt said. "They're going to wire the money into your account. Should be done by tomorrow morning."
"That's fuckin' bitchin," Darren said. "I'm gonna go buy me a new car, first fuckin' thing!"
"Me too," said Coop. "I want a Porsche nine-two-fucking-four."
"Fuck yeah!" said Darren. "With one of them new CD players in it!"
"Yeah!"
"Uh... guys," Jake interrupted.
They looked up at him.
"You understand that you need to start finding your own housing tomorrow, don't you? Now that we're under the new contract, National isn't paying for your pad anymore."
Their faces fell. "No shit? You mean we gotta pay rent and shit?"
"That's why you have your own money now," Matt told them. "The advance is to cover your expenses until the royalty checks start rolling in."
"That's fucked up!" Darren said.
"And they're not going to be paying for your food or your drinks anymore either," Jake said.
"They're not?" Coop asked.
A horrible thought occurred to Darren. "What about our... I mean... the pain medicine we take? Are they gonna keep paying for that?"
"You mean your fucking heroin," Matt said. "That shit you put in your arm three or four times a day. And the answer to that is no, they aren't going to paying for it anymore."
Darren and Coop looked at each other in a panic.
"Dude," Darren said, "what the fuck kind of contract did we sign? What is this fucking shit?"
"I thought you said this was a better contract!" said Coop.
"We've kept you informed the whole time we were negotiating it," Jake said. "And we also gave you copies of it to look over two days ago. Did you read them?"
"No," said Darren. "Why the fuck would we read them? You told us it was a good contract!"
"It is a good contract," Matt said. "It's going to let us take control of our own lives and get rich in the process... as long as we make good music."
"And that's what we need to talk to you about now," said Jake.
"What do you mean?" asked Coop.
Matt and Jake looked at each other, drawing strength for this from each other. Both had vowed to stick to their guns on this issue but it was hard. Despite all the chaos these two had caused over the past year they were still close friends and band mates. There was a deep bond between all of them and it was hard to pull on that bond and risk breaking it.
"It's like this, guys," Jake said. "The new contract has put band discipline back into the hands of the band. National no longer has the right to override decisions made by the band or to change the rules of the band. As of the moment you put your signatures on that piece of paper, you can now be removed from the band by a majority vote of the five of us."
"What the fuck you talking about?" Coop demanded.
"It means if Bill, Jake, and I all say you should be fired, you're fucking fired and we'll replace you with someone else."
They looked shocked at this statement.
"Fired?" Darren said. "What the fuck do you mean?"
"Why would you fire us?" asked Coop.
"Because you're a couple of heroin addicts," Matt said. "Why the hell do you think?"
"We're not heroin addicts!" they both cried in unison.
"Let's not mince words here," said Jake. "You both shoot heroin into your veins at least three times every day. If you fail to do this, you start puking and shaking. In my book, that's the definition of a heroin addict."
"It's for pain, man!" Darren cried. "Ever since that explosion onstage, my fuckin' ear hurts all the time."
"Uh huh," said Matt. "And what's your excuse, Coop? You got a bad ear too?"
"No," he said. "I just use it to get high, but it ain't that bad. I got it under control."
"You ain't got shit under control," Matt said. "Either one of you. When we were rehearsing you guys were showing up loaded on that shit and falling asleep at your instruments. You stopped contributing to the production. You were useless."