Hey, kids: wanna see a smoking monkey? 1:40 in to the video. Try pulling that bullshit nowadays. The innertubes would straight up come to your house and murder you, and then take pictures of your body and put Crying Jordan on it.
(Alice Cooper–the band not the guy, but also the guy–doesn’t get enough love. The songs were a lot smarter than they let on, and the guitarists were crunchy and ragged, and Bob Ezrin was the producer for the first bunch of records.)