"Chimpanjesus cold!Chimpanjesus cold!" belted the young savior to anybody who would listen in the dark cellar of his prison.

The ides of October are upon us, and the chosen one has been bereft of miracles and magic. Present in spirit, when the board members attended their annual gigfest, his powder touch opened their eyes to the spine-tingling pleasures of little pills.

Cacophonous ether and burning skulls paved the road with it's ebbs and flows, dragging the members forward. Cartoon asses with Ziggy imprints, part of a nutricious breakfast.