What really happened to Kelly Kreye, the fifth member of Chet Watkins?Mainstream media sources, the NYPD and his improv group Chet Watkins would have you believe that he was performing in a play called The Love of Three Oranges in Santa Fe, NM, but, through research and a confidential resource it has been revealed this information is completely and utterly false.
I first caught wind of this story whilst mixing with locals (a.k.a ‘hipsters’) who live in and around Kelly’s home in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. One ‘hipster’, with a lisp and fiendish need for nicotine, who wanted to be referred to as Checkers to keep his anonymity, recounted the tale like this. “Yeah, I know that kid. I’ve had a drink with ‘em at Blackout.” Referring to the Greenpoint bar that Kelly was working at during that time. “He was walking down Bedford,” Checkers puffed, “and I noticed him because he had bright orange shoe laces in his shoes and a bag of kitty litter over his shoulder. Then, all of a sudden he just freaked out!! At first I thought it was from the scorching heat we’ve been havin’.” Various onlookers confirmed Checkers’ account. Every person I talked to, locals, hipsters, bums, junkies and store owners in the area all reported the same strange activity that began shortly after Kelly was seen peering in the Corcoran Reality office window just off the corner of Bedford and North 3rd street. As the story continues, “He turned from the window and gazed across the street looking directly at the new Duane Reade opening there. At that moment you could see the will of a man snap, and that was it.”
After many failed attempts to interview members of the Kreye family they released this statement – “Kelly, our dearest son, grandson, brother and uncle, was a strong man, but even the strongest of people will succumb to the corporate, capitalistic powers taking over their neighborhood such as what was happening, and is happening, to Kelly’s beloved Williamsburg.”
When asked, Checker provided the rest of the details through constant puffs of smoke from his Lucky Strike cigarette. “He crouched really low and then released an apish bellow that shook me so hard my vintage Diesel sunglasses, my latte and my Lucky Strike cigarette all fell to the floor.” Similarly, a Polish woman who had unknowingly wandered beyond the comforting limits of her Greenpoint neighborhood exclaimed, “I was shocked! I nearly called the police, but what are the police good for now adays anyway. So I just went about my business,” she shrugged, “then directly after his verbal outburst he proceeded to rip off all his clothes like a bear ripping apart a salmon.” With that statement as she walked away flailing her arms in the air she said something in Polish I could not comprehend, “Szalony.” The rest of the story was given to me through Checkers. “He was butt naked, howling at the afternoon sun; it was nuts, bro.” Checkers said. “If you see him tell him he owes me a pair of sunglasses, a latte and a smoke.”
The last report of Kelly’s whereabouts in the Brooklyn area was from a self-employed dog walker named Robert Grady. “I just saw this animal like image, as if there was a deer running in the woods from a would be attacker. He was hoofing it towards the East River at lightening speed. Then I just heard a loud splash and that was it, he was gone.”
For reasons still unknown, the NYPD as well the local improv comedy group Chet Watkins, of which Kelly is a member of, attempted to half-hazardly sweep this incident under the rug. I rigorously solicited the various members of Chet Watkins in hopes to gain insight to their side of the story, but all of whom refused to comment. Two days after my soliciting ended the group released this public statement – “As far as we know Kelly is in Santa Fe, NM performing in The Love of Three Oranges.”
The events I just described took place five weeks ago. That was, until just recently when Kelly Kreye was spotted in an isolated area of the Catskill Mountains in Upstate New York. The picture you see here was taken by a group of hikers along one of the most notoriously difficult and dangerous trails in the Catskill Mountain Range. “He was running down the river like a wild man and then he stopped for about 10 seconds. That is when I pulled out my Canon point and shoot and took the photo. He looked hell bent as he stared into my camera and I nearly fell over from fear.” Said Branden Hayward a local New York City actor hiking that day. “He then jumped towards us, yelled something that was more a Native American chant than English and… then… he was gone.” The picture of Kelly was posted online and instantly his friends changed their facebook profile pictures to this image in an effort to build support in bringing him back to New York City.
Upon the mounting pressure from his family, the internet community and the former Premier of Alberta, Ralph Klein, New York Authorities finally stepped in. Locally born and raised Park Rangers Elizabeth ‘Bear Claw’ Masucci and Erin ‘The Rothco’ Roth were the two state authorities who finally caught Kelly and detained him at the Catskill Mountain Rangers Head Offices until he could be taken away to Bellevue Hospital to be given proper treatment. When asked, “He was nuts!” The two Rangers replied. “All he did was crouch and jump and howl, for hours on end. We were glad to finally see him go.”
After long stints of electro shock therapy under the careful watch of doctor Caitlin Newman, the doctor concluded that, “Kelly seemed to be back to a state of normality and would be released as soon as possible; we don’t like to waste our time with basket cases.” She finished jokingly.
Kelly was released from Bellevue Hospital just a few hours before this story went to print and is expected to make his return to the public arena at Chet Watkins’ next show at The Magnet Theater on Wednesday night @ 8:30pm. For the sake of his family, friends, the improv community and the safety of the New York City area in general I hope to God that he has been cured of his illness.