Lessons learned from spawn-of-a-preacher-man Alice Cooper: If at first you don't succeed, murder a chicken in front of an audience. But murder's such a strong word, legally speaking. Negligent homicide? And technically, wasn't it the audience that killed the chicken? Cooper just threw it to them. It had wings, right? It should've flown away. The 1969 poultry mishap at the Toronto Rock and Roll Revival is one of rock's all-time true myths, a precursor to Ozzy Osbourne's when-doves-cry snack attacks, and the seed from which many a demented (at least on the outside) antihero has sprung. Without Cooper, there is no Osbourne (the solo version, anyway), no Rocky Horror Picture Show, no Howard Stern, no Marilyn Manson. He's been lauded by Rob Zombie and John Lydon as having jumpstarted their careers, and made fans out of Groucho Marx and Salvador Dali, who spun a hologram in his honor (First Cylindric Chromo-Hologram Portrait of Alice Cooper's Brain). His recent activity is stranger still: swapping alcohol addiction for semi-pro golfing (see the 2007 autobiography Alice Cooper, Golf Monster), becoming a born-again Christian and issuing Welcome 2 My Nightmare (UMe), a sequel to 1975's water- and bloodshed Welcome to My Nightmare, with original bandmates Michael Bruce, Neal Smith and Dennis Dunaway, as well as a Chinese menu of cameos (Rob Zombie, Ke$ha, Vince Gill, Patterson Hood). Here, he closes the casket on Motley Crue, in the final show of their two-year All Bad Things Must Come to an End Tour. And yet, Cooper trudges on — forever 18 and life to go. Tickets $28.60-$142.80 (includes fees).