They claim it’s their last time on stage together, so the five nights are expected to net roughly $40 million in ticket sales alone. It’s on par with the $45 million the band earned in 1993, when it played 81 shows and became the top-grossing tour act in the world. Today, a top pop group like, say, One Direction, can earn $6.4 million on a good night. The Dead are expected to do more than $8 million each evening. Of that, Shapiro and his business partner, Madison House Presents, will split at least 5 percent.
Of the gross?
“You bet your ass ‘of the motherfucking gross.’ You’re gross or you’re gone, kid.”
“First-dollar, day-one, rolling non-adjusted gross. Raw, unadulterated, undiluted gross. I get my cut before anyone else even gets to count the money.”
“Call me Michael, cuz the kid is GROSS, yo.”
You have that one in your pocket?
What’s with this picture, man?
“I got no friggin’ idea. Fucking Bloomberg.”
It looks like something the little hippie chick freshman with a crush on you hangs in her locker.
“Why are we talking, anyway?”
Big news, actually.
I think I’ve changed my mind about Chicago. I think I should go.
“Great, can’t wait to see you, say ‘hi.'”
You’re fucking with me, right?
Do that Peter Shapiro thing, man.
“What thing is that?”
Lay ’em on me. I don’t need backstage passes, just tix. Very cool of you, by the way.
“I will give you nothing.”
Well, FUCK ME, Petey for not CALLING YOU A THIEVING MONSTER FOR THE PAST SIX MONTHS. Because everyone who did THAT, got a MOTHERFUCKING PHONE CALL and a series of FOLLOW-UP TEXTS. Maybe I should’ve been talking shit like the REST OF THESE MALCONTENTS, INTERNET FUCKBOYS, AND INGRATES.
Maybe I should have called you a thief in the DENVER FUCKING FREE WHATEVER and then I would have gotten some love, but NOOOOOOOO.
What does TotD do? I CHAMPION YOU, you whore’s son, and you FUCK MY HEART TO DEATH with your BONER OF APATHY.
Hey, Enthusiasts, I said over and over, this Peter Shapiro’s a guy we can get behind; he’s our man, and if he can’t do it, Bill Graham could have but he flew into power lines.
I had your back, man. And you stabbed mine.
“I don’t want to be in these skits any more.”
I will also need a hotel room and, when I get there, you owe me fifty bucks because I ordered the webcast and won’t be using the last three nights.
“You get nothing.”
You’re my best friend now; say ‘hi’ to Phil because I think we’re fighting.
“I hate you.”