And this, of course, opened up a whole can of worms which Marla did not have time to fully address because they called her flight at that very moment. Before leaving the astonished reporters, she did make mention that not only were Jake, Charlie, Coop, and Nerdly not going to be pallbearers, they were not going to be present at the funeral either.
Once that bit of information hit the airwaves and the printed medium, Darren's funeral suddenly became the biggest story of the moment, surpassing even a nightclub fire the previous week in New York that had killed 87 and the ongoing trial of John Poindexter in the Iran-Contra scandal — a trial that was within days of wrapping up. Pauline's phone started ringing off the hook as reporter after reporter called, demanding confirmation or denial of Marla's statement, demanding statements from any and all band members. With little else to do, Pauline was forced to admit that, yes, at the request of Darren's family, Matt Tisdale would be the only member of Intemperance present at the funeral.
"How does the band feel about this?" she was asked again and again.
"Obviously, they're not very happy about it," was her pat answer, "but they have agreed to respect the wishes of the family."
She was asked many other questions as well, some having to do with the nature of the dispute between Darren's parents and the band, some having to do with why Matt wasn't included in the persona non grata declaration. Pauline refused to go into any details here. And, of course, all of the reporters eventually got to the big questions, the questions that were on everyone's mind: "What does this mean for the band?" "Will they be returning to the road soon?" "Will they make another album when the tour is over?"
Pauline's answer to this line of enquiry was ambiguous at best. "Right now the band is still trying to come to grips with Darren's loss and all of the emotions attached to it. I don't think anyone is thinking beyond next week at the moment."
Matt's answer to that same question, however, was not so ambiguous. The reporters caught up with him on April 4, in the parking lot of Mount Verne Memorial Park in Heritage — the cemetery where Darren was laid to rest — right after the graveside ceremony. Dressed in a black suit, his sunglasses covering his bloodshot eyes, a cigarette perched between his fingers, Matt faced a dozen video cameras and six radio microphones and said: "Intemperance is done. It is my opinion that John Cooper, Bill Archer, and, especially, Jake Kingsley are directly responsible for the downfall and eventual death of Darren. I will never forgive them for this. I will never step onto a stage with any of them again. I will never play music with any of them again. I will never be in the same room with any of them again if I can avoid it. I am through with all of them and I hope they all rot in hell."
A momentary silence washed over the gaggle of reporters. They were simply unaccustomed to being given so strong and straightforward an answer. Finally, one of them, the LA Times entertainment reporter, asked: "So... does this mean you won't be finishing out the Lines On The Map tour with them?"
"And does it mean you won't be composing a new album with them?" asked the reporter from the Heritage Register.
"What the fuck do you think, Einstein?" Matt barked back at them. "Are you a little unclear on just what the word never means?"
Although his reply was unprintable and un-airable as delivered, it did serve to get his point across. As far as Matt Tisdale was concerned, there was no more Intemperance.
INTEMPERANCE AT AN END? read the headline in the LA Times. TISDALE PONDERS LEAVING INTEMPERANCE, read the headline in the Heritage Register. The possible break-up of the most popular "death metal" band of all time was front-page news across the United States and in several other countries. All of the entertainment programs, tabloid newspapers, and entertainment oriented magazines featured the entire sordid story as their lead-off in the week that followed. None of them, however, could quite come to the point of announcing that Intemperance was really broken up for good, this despite several additional proclamations from Matt about never playing with the members of Intemperance again and even a news release from Pauline that stated it looked like the band's reign was at an end.
Crow and the rest of the management gang certainly didn't appreciate the news that Matt had no intention of returning to the road. They tried every tactic in their arsenal to convince him that, at the very least, he needed to finish the tour.
"You'll be in breach of contract, Matt," Doolittle told him reasonably. "We don't want to have to pursue a lawsuit against you. Just mend your fences over this whole Darren thing and get back out on the road. After that... well, we can start talking about the possibilities of a new Intemperance contract. We're prepared to offer very generous terms."
"Fuck your terms and fuck your tour," was Matt's reply. "When I said I was through, I meant that shit, man."
"It's only thirty or so dates," Doolittle said. "It'll take a month and a half and your contract will be wrapped up. If you don't... well... we'll be forced to sue you for any lost revenue your breach causes us. That's on the order of two thousand missed album sales, five thousand missed single sales, all of the concert revenue, and all of the merchandising revenue per venue that is missed. Not only that, but we'd be obligated to go after you for punitive damages. That could run upwards of a hundred thousand dollars all by itself."
"We could also revert back to your previous contract for any future royalties from here on out," Crow reminded. "Think about this, Matt. You could be making a very expensive decision here."
"Do your worst, assholes," Matt told them. "I don't care if I end up on skid-fucking-row because of this shit. I ain't gonna finish the tour and I sure as shit ain't gonna make any more music with those murdering fucks."
Gradually, after begging, pleading, threatening, trying to reason, trying to get Pauline to reason, and even trying to get Kim Kowalski to reason, they were forced to conclude that Matt was committed to the course of action he'd set in motion. National Records reluctantly announced that all future Intemperance dates were no longer postponed, but cancelled. They returned all the money they'd collected in ticket sales and were forced to eat nearly one hundred thousand dollars in merchandise and a quarter of a million in venue reservation deposits.
In the end, however, they elected not to pursue any legal action against Matt. Knowing he would soon be embarking on a solo career of some sort, they wanted to remain in his good graces so he would sign with National instead of going to Aristocrat Records or some other label.
It was only when the remaining dates were actually cancelled, when it was announced in cities from New Orleans to Bangor that ticket holders could obtain refunds for their purchases at their local TicketKing box office, that the media finally accepted the band's break-up as fact. On April 24, 1990, the New York Times was the first to announce the grim truth. Above the stories of East and West German finalization of plans for formal reunification and the successful placement of the Hubble space telescope in Earth orbit, was the headline: ITS OFFICIAL. INTEMPERANCE HAS BROKEN UP.
Los Angeles, California
May 4, 1990
Jake stood in his bedroom at five o'clock on this Friday afternoon. For the first time in more than two weeks, he was sober at this time of the day. In light of his first social obligation in more than a month, he had restrained his alcohol intake. He'd only had three bloody Marys that morning and two rum and cokes in the early afternoon. Though it had taken two hits of some pretty good greenbud in order to allow him to partake in an afternoon nap, he was now awake, coordinated, and mostly clearheaded as he started putting on his custom-tailored tuxedo in preparation for the prestigious premier of Greg Oldfellow's new epic film: The Northern Jungle — the post-apocalypse global warming piece that was being touted as the "film of the decade". Celia and Greg had issued an actual engraved invitation for him to attend.