It was the fall of 1998. The leaves were falling, the air was getting cooler, it was the beginning of a new school year, KISS had a new album on the shelves and .. oh my God it was almost Halloween. Okay, what was I to do? What was I to do?

In the fall of 96, when the band was a the height of their popular Reunion Tour I was Paul Stanley for Halloween. Just a bit of make up, a wig and a plywood guitar. Not bad. The year after I pulled off a much better Ace with a full costume and a light-up guitar that impressed even the most averse KISS fans.

But in the fall of 98, the year of Psycho Circus, I needed something different. Something that would really stand out. I needed to "shock the people". And that's exactly what I did ..

... Gene Simmons.

Whats odd is that I was never a big Gene fan. I had my years of loving Paul for his vocals and loving Ace for his cool costumes and blazing guitar. There was even that year in Junior High when I went out dressed as Peter. Gene was never my favorite KISS member.

At least not until ... I became him.

Before I even started I said to myself "if Im going to do this Im going to do it right. I'll start at the boots and work my way up."

I took an old pair of sneakers, some wood, canvas straps and a staple gun (with a lot of staples) and, after an hour of cutting, pulling stapling and praying, they were done .. two sneakers strapped to six inch platforms.

Well it was a start anyway.

Then came the demons; a lot of canvas, twenty-nine sticks of hot glue, numerous burns to my fingers, two bottles of silver paint, an extra shot of patience and several outbursts of profanity. Soon my feet were sporting two angry devils snarling forth with their huge teeth rolling over my toes and down to the floor. "Ooooh," I exclaimed triumphantly, "I have Genes boots ... cool".

The costume? One pair of black spandex pants, a black t-shirt, an old Dracula cape, a leather belt for the choker collar, five feet of plastic chain from the hardware store, more canvas, more hot glue sticks, more silver paint, more profanity and a mild dose of psychosis and it was starting to come together.

The finger burns were painful, but not life threatening. Because I couldnt sew I had to use hot glue. And because I didnt have a pattern much of the costume was assembled while wearing it. I would fit two pieces together, check it in the mirror, lay down a line of hot glue, and then mush the pieces together.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

The neighbors must have thought Id opened an S&M shop in my apartment. Either that or I was slowly going mad .. which I was.

After many nights of measuring, cutting, gluing and screaming, the costume was done .. well almost.

Then I faced the ultimate challenge ... the axe bass.

The recipe? Take one piece of pine, some plywood, plexiglass, old tuners and guitar strings, paint, mini lights, batteries and wires. Add a working knowledge of guitar construction, electronics and a touch of sheer madness and there you have it. A perfectly constructed Gene Simmons axe bass, all black and silver with a big KISS logo under the strings that lit up when the low E string was fretted. Surely, by now, I was ready.

Almost.

Studs. If theres one thing that really sets off a KISS costume its all those silver studs. Thats what it was missing. But how? And how much? So far I was able to do the entire costume on the cheap; found materials and borrowed parts were the crux of my disguise. I didnt want to spend thirty dollars on a stud machine and another twenty on studs. So then I started thinking. And then I got creative. And then I had it..

Hot glue!!!

Directions: squeeze trigger of glue gun and lay down a large, round blob of hot glue onto the fabric. Careful it doesnt run off. Keep it very flat and round until it hardens. Then paint it silver and there you have it .. a stud.

Repeat this procedure 150 more times.

I wondered if Gene and Paul had started out this way.

Finally I had reached the end of my crazy, restless undertaking .. my own, home-made Gene Simmons costume. I was ready to summon the demon in my own home.

Finally, the night came .. October 31. KISS were in L.A. getting ready for the live TV appearance. Parents were buying last minute candy. Kids were looking through their basements for plastic pumpkins or raiding the linen closet for pillow cases. Teens were collecting soap and eggs for windows. The police were on patrol. Where was I? At the Sears make-up counter inquiring about eye liners.

In all of this there was one very important person I had almost forgotten, my girlfriend, Jennifer. Where would she fit into all of this KISSmania? Surely she would go the party with me. She would be my faithful sidekick at the midnight club crawl. But how would she take all this KISS stuff?

And Jennifer being a big Trekie, I expected her to show up in a blue mini skirt with silver trim, black boots and a 60's hairstyle. I was shocked to find her on my doorstep in a skimpy black dress, long black gloves and leather boots. She looked like one of the women on the Love Gun album. I smiled at the sight of her. She just huffed toward the bathroom barking, "can you do my make- up for me? I cant get this damn star right!"

Okay, she was being a bit haughty, but I had converted her. KISS may not have been her favorite musical group but she loved the make-up. She loved the costumes. She loved the image.

I was in love with the black figure that stood in my bathroom staring into the mirror.

I wasted no time and drew the star over her right eye. "Start putting this stuff on around it," I said handing her a jar of clown white. She went straight to work and so did I for it was getting late in the night.

After I got into as much of my costume as possible, I propped my Dynasty album up on the kitchen table next to a mirror and took an eyebrow pencil to my own face. In the mirror I watched my tanned and familiar face slowly morph into that of the venerable Gene Simmons.

And there we were. No longer Jeff and Jen, but Gene and Paula. Two demons of the night. Ready to rock and roll.

Into the night ...

"Thats a great costume Jeff," was the common response as we mingled at the party. I was careful not to let the cream cheese dip on my chains.

"And you put this whole thing together yourself?"

"Yes."

"You're like .. like the Martha Stewart from Hell."

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