Unwritten Law's Scott Russo describes an onstage fight that took place March 23, 2005, at the House of Blues in Anaheim, that left Russo minus a tooth and guitarist Rob Brewer missing part of his pinky. "Long story short? [Rob Brewer] sucks. He hit me and then we fired him," Russo told MTV News.

Russo says the onstage argument was over Brewer's refusal to play "F.I.G.H.T." from Here's to the Mourning. "So I said on the microphone that Rob's mad at us. I went over to try and give him a hug, and he pushed me." Russo says he threw some water at Brewer, whereupon "he knocked one of my teeth out. So I walked offstage. Rob did too. But I walked back out, threw his guitar on, and we finished the set without him. Then I threw his guitar into the crowd and gave it to the kids."

Russo says he found Brewer backstage holding a vodka bottle. "He tries to hit me over the head with it.... The bottle connects with the top of the door jamb and smashes, cutting half of his right pinkie off. Needless to say, he couldn't play the next two or three shows because he had to have surgery to reattach his torn ligaments."

According to Russo, Brewer also shoved a fan who made his way backstage to meet the band in Anaheim. "He yelled at the kid, 'What the f-ck are you doing in my [dressing] room?' and he hit the fan across the room. We were just, like, 'What the f-ck is wrong with him?'" The band continued touring as a quartet.

Iron Maidens drummer Linda McDonald says “The owner of the Rainbow Bar in Juarez, Mexico, locked us, the promoter and the sound crew in the building. We were doing a swing thru Texas, and did the Juarez show the night before our El Paso gig. The show went great, the fans came out in droves, and every thing was fine. Until at about 2:00 a.m., when we heard a lot of yelling in Spanish.”

“The promoter came up to us and said ‘Get all your stuff and move it all outside as fast as you can.’ We did so and, on about our third trip out, with about four more trips worth of stuff to go, the double doors slammed shut on us. We tried to open them, and found they were chained and padlocked from the outside. All the sound guys, the band, and the crew were locked inside. The promoter had to scramble to find $1,500 [U.S.], on a Sunday morning, at 2:30 a.m., or the building owner would not let anyone out. We were all in there for about 45 minutes, until the promoter came up with the extra money, and we all beat a hasty retreat.”

Brandon Welchez recalls hitting a Utah stage in skin-tight pants, faux-fur coats, and mascara. “This didn't sit well with the conservatism of half the crowd, who immediately started heckling us…One of them came up to the stage and was yelling things, so I spat in his face. After our last song, a group of fifteen to twenty armed Mormon jocks gathered…One of them had keys in his fist and punched our drummer’s snare drum. One of them punched our drummer in the head and I swung a cymbal stand at him… I remember one of them looked me straight in the face and said ‘We've killed people before and we'll do it again.’" Bar employees diffused the brawl.

As for why his group The Plot to Blow Up the Eiffel Tower was “banned in Baltimore,” Welchez says “Our roadie at the time was completely knackered. He was trying to make his way to the bathroom, which was upstairs, decided he didn't want to finish the walk, pulled out his penis and urinated down the flight of stairs. It was hilarious to see a yellow waterfall coming down the stairs, but of course the security and staff didn't see the comedic beauty. We were ejected and told never to return and that we wouldn't work in Baltimore again. We found the tires to our van slashed once we got outside.”

Chris Leyva recalls “One time at the Shamrock Shack, a guy got stabbed, but the cops didn’t catch the guy who did it. Then we were playing our next gig at Chasers, and cops showed up to arrest the guy with the knife [from Shamrock Shack], because he was there at Chasers! The cops noticed we were the same band from the Shack and said ‘not you again!’ Knife wielding maniacs must make up a big part of our fan base.”

A Scribe Amidst the Lions singer/guitarist Kristofer Towne says the band was unloading before a gig at L.A.’s Viper Room when “Out of nowhere, a speeding car [was] careening into the parking lot at more than thirty miles in hour. The car hits the curb, almost runs over three or four people, nearly slams into the extra rental van for fans, and proceeds to crash into the rear of the band van!” Towne says he and another band member avoided being hit by “just inches.” When police arrived, the woman was arrested.

“During all of this,” according to Towne, “there was considerable stress, as the venue was expecting us to load up and play, while the police needed to get all the information and statements at pretty much the same time.” The band made their slot on time and, on packing up to leave, they were informed that the woman who crashed was actually on her way to the Viper Room. “She had a ticket and everything!”

Bassist Eric Marcrum doesn’t miss the old Scolari’s. “One time [with Crime in America], they paid us $24. The last time we played there, they didn’t pay us at all.”

“During our last gig there, between songs, I asked the bartender for some beers for the band, from the stage…she started yelling ’You’re not allowed to call out the bartender on the microphone,’ even though we do that all the time and we were telling people all night to tip her.” Marcrum says that, as the band was loading out, “[The bartender] was getting all in our face and saying ‘You don’t have that big of a draw’…our drummer Nate said ‘We’ll never play here again, you guys suck,’ and she yelled out ‘You guys are 86d, you’re never coming back.’”

Vv Morgue recalls a July 5, 2007 event she promoted at Chasers, featuring Ghost Ship: “It was a full-on bar brawl, like you see on Most Shocking Videos. I saw one of the bartenders covering her ears and making fun of the [Ghost Ship] set. Then, she tells them to stop playing, because she thinks their equipment shut off an electrical breaker.” The band stopped for a moment, no electrical problem was found, and they began their final two songs. “I'm sitting in the back and I see the bartender getting on the phone and telling someone ‘Hey I know it's late’…five minutes later, five guys show up and one starts yelling [at the band] ‘Get the f-ck out, I'm a SHARP!’ [Skin Heads Against Racial Prejudice]…I don't know if he was really associated with them, or if he was just trying to scare us off.”

“This guy goes up to a fan watching the show and punches him in the head,” says Morgue. Another patron reportedly snapped a picture of the alleged SHARP, whereupon, according to Morgue, “My good friend Bethany was between the running SHARP and the camera guy, and the SHARP punched her in the face and threw her against a wall.” Bandmembers got involved in the ensuing scuffle, during which “Ghost Ship’s PA system got destroyed,” according to Morgue.

Dust N' Bones singer Richard Gwaltney describes an ’08 House of Blues gig: “By the time we went on stage, everybody had been drinking all night. “There were about 500 drinking fans, going crazy…about halfway through the set, a fight broke out. A few people said there was a guy groping someone else’s girlfriend, but a good friend of mine claims the moshing just turned a little too serious. I asked the crowd to calm down, but they started right back up after we began playing again. At that point, about a third of the crowd was thrown out.”

“It was nearing the end of the set,” says Gwaltney, “like the second to last song, and we were supposed to stop, at which point the fighting erupted again. I don’t know why…everyone I was knew was thrown out by then.” He praises HOB security. “They were pretty immediate about throwing offenders out. I especially remember this small, blonde woman being the first bouncer in the mix. She just dove in and took control.”

Singer Brandon Barclay recalls a Halloween ’06 gig at Mira Costa College’s Student Center with Suffer the Heat. “In the midst of setting up our equipment, Travis [Du Bois, bassist] was being escorted outside by a campus police officer. Travis had and still has no idea why he was being arrested, so he asked the officer ‘why’ about twenty times and never got a response. A second cop comes in and starts yelling at the crowd gathered around the scene to disperse. They end up telling Travis that they want to check him for weapons…as soon as they cranked his arm up behind his back, he flinched due to discomfort, and was body slammed to the ground and taser-gunned several times. As they held him down, they restricted his arms from any movement and kept tasing him because he wouldn’t put his arms behind his back.”

Campus officials declined to comment on the incident, but did provide the preliminary police report which states that MCC campus police officer Benny Perez initially approached Du Bois because he “smelled marijuana smoke.” Perez says Du Bois “drew attention to himself” by walking away from the officer. Perez followed him into building, whereupon he “detected alcohol” on the bassist and decided to “conduct a weapon and/or alcohol search.”

Noting the campus’ “standard procedure” is to put handcuffs on suspects during such searches, Perez says Du Bois “refused to cooperate.” When a second officer arrived, Jim Beckman, a struggle began and Beckman “discharged a taser into his [Du Bois’] back.” Du Bois (27) was taken to a police car and charged with public drunkenness, resisting arrest and possessing alcohol on school grounds (“a bottle of Blue Vodka”).

“The bottle was a mini two-ouncer, and it was still sealed,” says Barclay. “It was for after the show. But because he also admitted having two beers before the show, during dinner, off campus, they say he was breaking the law. What about burning nine inches of taser marks onto an innocent guy’s flesh? He didn’t deserve to be punished the way he was.” The MCC campus has a “zero tolerance” alcohol policy.

Keyboardist Jeff Domitrz remembers "At our worst gig [with Wasting June] we kept getting pushed back later and later into the night. When we finally went on at one in the morning, the owner of the bar kept walking back and fourth across the stage holding a sign that read, 'Want to play? Call Ray.' "

Local drummer John Hermsmeier says “My worst gig has to be when my college band Sandova played for a youth event that turned out to be about seven sixth graders who sat in the half-court circle at the gym and were uninterested, to say the least. The event leaders had to actually go up to the 'crowd' and tell them to stop playing on their Game Boys and pay attention to us. Now I can laugh about it with my former bandmates, but at the time it left quite a sting...probably like how Elizabeth felt when Rosie dissed her on The View.”

Gabe Lander recalls a Dateless Losers gig with band partner Tim Curns: "When we were first starting out, we played at an open mic where Tim and I both had to share one microphone. We had to sit so close, we both forgot all the words to our songs. By the end of the most awful set ever, Tim was covered in my spit and our sense of dignity was utterly flattened. Luckily there were only, like, three people in the audience. And they weren't paying attention."

Chris Decatur says "The worst gig [with ChrisChrisChris], without a doubt, was when we were served [legal papers] during a show and had to shut down in the middle of it. We were in B.F.E., Texas, and a bunch of suits straight out of a Blues Brothers movie flashback came up onstage with papers. I thought they wanted autographs. Turns out they did. The audience thought it was all a part of the act, and I had to tell them what was going on. 'Folks, I apologize, but we're apparently being sued for plagiarism.' Someone from the hushed audience yelled, 'For what song?' And I laughed because we were in the middle of playing it -- 'I'm Alright' -- the Caddyshack theme song. I told them this, and someone yelled, 'F-ck Kenny Loggins!' My face went red, my hands went numb. Hardy kicked his drum set over, and Capri threw his bass at the ground. I just knew it would be the last show we'd ever do as a live band, and it was."

Guitarist Peter Sprague remembers “I get a call from pianist Rob Schneiderman, and he’s got a gig playing jazz in Spain for a month, starting in one week, and he invites me on the tour [but] someone steals my precious handmade guitar...next, I’m off to Western Union to receive some wired money from my folks to buy a new guitar."

“While at the Western Union, an armed gangster holds up the bank next door, and I’m gathering my money amidst some gunshots...then I fly to Spain and I land at the airport, and my friends are not there to pick me up. I’m young, and I didn’t gather all of their info, so I don’t know how to get ahold of them...I take a cab to the city central, and I’m literally wandering around the streets, not sure what to do."

“Then I hear the sounds of Charlie Parker playing ‘Just Friends’ from a nearby street café. I move a little closer, and discover my friends listening to Bird and having an afternoon coffee. Unbelievable...I was saved, I thought, but it turned out that the rest of my time in Spain was filled with lousy gigs, canceled gigs, [and] very little vegetarian food. I survived and gained some wisdom, but I also got really sick and spent a week in bed with food poisoning.”

Collage Menage twins Hans and Fritz Jensen each have their own Worst Gig story:

Hans: "We went to Mexico, and the federales stopped us at the border to search us and harass us for cash. We didn't pay, so we went home with no show that night. Bogus."

Fritz: "At 'Canes, the amateur booker had his PA show up late, and when the show went late, he cut off our set by standing in front of the stage and waving his hands around, shouting, 'Cut the PA.' The drummer quit that night. He was a wiener anyway."

Colin Clyne says ““I played in my hometown in Scotland a few years ago, and got dragged into a heckling match with some drunk, middle-aged woman who demanded we play ABBA. I backed down and we played the closest thing we had to that - AC/DC.”

Drummer Ben Taylor recalls “At a club in San Francisco called the Stone, I was in a band opening up for Nuclear Assault and the stage was about ten feet high. The drums were on a piece of carpet attached to a sheet of plywood. Around the middle of the third song, the plywood was moving and there was nothing under it but the big giant void that I eventually ended up in, along with my whole kit. The 3,000 screaming people thought it was part of our stage show. I left very bloody and with quite the headache.”

Singer/guitarist Jackson Price remembers “Last July, South Lake Tahoe, we showed up just to find out we weren't even on the schedule. The place was a gay bar converted to a venue that had absolutely no draw. We played over two hours of music to about four people. We ended up getting drunk and skinny dipping in the lake at four in the morning with some girl from the show.”

Jenn Grinels says “I broke my ankle playing a singing, dancing mermaid on the Disney Cruise Line. I was loading into a lift that was about to rise up through the stage. I jumped in - wearing heels, because Disney mermaids wear heels - broke my ankle, and everyone panicked. I think we were all having visions of the smoke clearing on stage and 500 children gasping at the sight of a floundering, writhing, screaming mermaid. But they pulled me out in time and the show went on without a hitch.”

Grimis Apparatus remembers “I DJ’d a private party for a bunch of cops. They were all hammered and talking about all the DUIs they got out of by being a cop.”

London Below leaders Zeph and ZöE recall a show at Rebecca’s Café: “We were running late and, when we got to play, the sound was terrible. The vocals were too loud and then too soft, and we couldn’t hear ourselves at all. ZöE forgot her lyrics, Zeph lost his place in the song, and we were too busy trying to figure out what the heck was going on with the sound. The energy was off and, although the audience was paying attention, it was more like they were staring at a bad car wreck you can’t help but look at. In the end, though, no bones were broken or lives lost, so it was a learning experience.”

Itai Faireman of the Mashtis says "Our worst gig ever was our very first gig as a band, in L.A. a couple years ago at the Knitting Factory. No soundcheck, blaring monitors, a packed room with only our friends really listening. We had to pay for all of our drinks including water, and the manager called us by a different band name all night."

Normandie Wilson says "The things that bother me immensely are when people don't have the details together. The worst day I ever had on tour was last year in Grand Junction, Colorado. I had two separate shows booked, and both a house venue and a coffee shop bailed on us, leaving us with nothing. We ended up driving from Omaha to Las Vegas in one day, which was not fun. Even if it's a gig in a filthy house where one or two people show up, if I get to play, I won't complain too much about it. If people cancel on me, that's when I'll get angry."

According to Fuzz Huzzi, "We once had three dates canceled in a row in Medford and Eugene Oregon during a three month tour. I just remember us being in a laundromat with a local rag mag looking for places to play. We wound up playing at a club in Downtown Eugene during their bar bingo night. We won all the bingo money that night and scored a gig for the next night too."

"The downside is we were on budget and spent the night in our Astro van outside Walmart, where it was about 25 degrees inside the van."

"Oh yeah, and that time our drummer almost got us shot in Texas was pretty gnarly."