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PerformanceStage ReviewFabulous alien scares aplenty in 'Fatal Abduction'—just watch that...

Fabulous alien scares aplenty in ‘Fatal Abduction’—just watch that anal probe

The latest Terror Vault installation has an elaborate backstory, lots of green goo, and, of course, a wormhole.

I recently saw a meme saying that when aliens fly by Earth, they lock the doors of their UFOs like they’re the Griswolds driving through the ghetto. It makes sense: We sweaty, simian-adjacent sacks of meat are the Elon Musks of planetary organisms. We didn’t gain control of the world through ingenuity or fit survival, but through the evolutionary equivalent of a hostile takeover. We’re Earth’s shitty landlords, destroying it and its resources as every other living creature is forced to put up with our delusion of imminent domain.

On the other hand, considering our sheer incompetence, it wouldn’t be surprising if a few aliens see the planet as ripe for the picking. That’s certainly the case in Terror Vault’s Fatal Abduction (through November 3 at the Old San Francisco Mint), this year’s iteration of Joshua “Peaches Christ” Grannell and co-producer David Flowers’ ultra-queer annual Halloween terror tour. This year’s tour has visitors wary of the Reptoids, a reptilian-humanoid species who have been plotting to overthrow our little blue ball for some time. Though, it must be stated, that their plot mainly seems to involve turning humans into BDSM subs, so if you’re into that kinda thing, you may be up for a li’l abduction.

The story is that the US government is, naturally (and perhaps factually), hiding info about extra-terrestrial life. Decades ago, we made contact with a benevolent species colloquially known as “The Grays.” They’re the basis for the big-headed, black-eyed spacemen whose image looms largest over pop culture. They’ve developed a substance known only as “the green compound,” which will reverse the climate disaster we dumb humans have created.

‘Terror Vault: Fatal Abduction.’ Photo by Jon Bauer

Unfortunately, the Grays are dying and the green compound has gone missing. It’s no surprise that the Reptoids are behind it, since a climate-ravaged Earth would be the very sort of environment in which their species could thrive (likely a nod to They Live). So, it’s up to we tour members to transcend time and space in the hopes of recovering the green compound and thwarting the dastardly plans of those rotten Reptoids.

Also, there are drinks later.

I’ve only been to a Terror Vault tour once in 2021, but even following their advertising is impressive. Grannell and his collaborators don’t half-ass the amount of detail they put into the story. Even if you don’t pore over every single syllable, you’ll pick up enough detail to where you should at least have a handle on what’s going on in every particular stop, even if you don’t remember everyone’s names. Walt Disney perfected the immersive nature of the theme park with Disneyland (partly with ideas “inspired by” Oakland’s Children’s Fairyland), and Grannell remixes the Haunted Mansion each year into a home where the ghouls want to fuck you as much as scare you.

After descending the steps of the cavernous Mint—past a banner of Peaches herself, all goth glam—one finds oneself in the long corridor of the building’s underbelly. (As I was given VIP access, I was led by the arm by a darling leather boy.) It’s here where we find the Creepshop merch room, the photo-op room (this year, a bench outside a graveyard), and, of course, Fang Bang—the vamp-themed bar and club that’s as ubiquitous with Terror Vault as the annual tour.

The Fang Bangers want your blood (and to serve you cocktails). Photo by Jose A Guzman Colon

When our group was scheduled to enter (which was difficult this time, as my opening night group was mainly 20-somethings who did a lot of pre-tour imbibing), we were sent to an ominous brick vault where a scar-faced militant man gets us to shut off mobile devices. We’re next taken to a government facility office, where we’re informed about the aforementioned backstory and the traitorous Admiral Glycon, who sold out humanity to the Reptoids.

One alien emerging from the TV later, the tour proper begins. We see snarky military types scoff as we civies are given high clearance, only for said jarheads to be tractor-beamed above before our eyes. We’re put in a small, round room (mirror device in the center, celestial projections above) that rotates as it sends us back in time to the Grays’ arrival, so we can procure the green compound.

It’s hard to talk about the show without going on an overly-detailed, spoiler-heavy rant. Needless to say, there’s an abundance of severed limbs, screaming performers, and a surprising number of tunnels to be found in the hourlong tour. There’s also bag of human waste that smells the part, there’s an adorable naked man acting as a Reptoid’s sub, and there’s a repeated reference to who the real monsters are: the far-right.

Gabby Rose in ‘Fatal Abduction.’ Photo by Jose A. Guzman Colon

It’s all in good fun, but disclaimers are a necessity. For starters, the show is loud to the point that I was glad to have put in my earplugs first (due to Fang Bang being deafening). The alien effects include strobes that will make one seize if they’re not warned beforehand. Plus, the sections where we’re required to crawl through tunnels like Bishop in Aliens will limit who can take part. Not to mention, if you have VIP access, the performers will be very touchy when you don’t expect it. Also, there’s an anal-probe scene that becomes audience-interactive. Yes, really. Add in the part where you have to push through a womblike tunnel, and the show is a claustrophobe’s worst nightmare.

Since I know people will ask: Yes, my Flo Mask and safety glasses were firmly attached at all times (for which I was glad when my drunken tour mates slobbered as they spoke). I also had my Aranet4, which I checked regularly. At the start of the tour, it read CO² levels of 1,265ppm in the waiting queue, with readings as high as 1,944ppm near the end, and 1,715ppm in the VIP section (with an extra tour tunnel, extra merch shop, and private bar with a performance lounge).

For those of us who are able-bodied—though, perhaps, less health-conscious than I—the tour is another fun entry into Terror Vault’s Halloween tradition. If you have the stomach for it, and hopefully, can limit your pre-tour drinking better than my obnoxious tour mates did, then you’re in for an adults-only good time from one of SF’s most treasured creators. As scary as the outside world is, Grannell’s scares are a welcome relief.

TERROR VAULT’S FATAL ABDUCTION runs through November 3 at the Old San Francisco Mint. Tickets and more info here.

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Charles Lewis III
Charles Lewis III
Charles Lewis III is a San Francisco-born journalist, theatre artist, and arts critic. You can find dodgy evidence of this at thethinkingmansidiot.wordpress.com

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