It all started one day when Zac Sloat, a local sci-fi gunfighter, showed up in my shop. I named it "Jeremy's Trit House," because of the inescapable ring to the name Jeremy, and the allure of shortening the word "treat" to "trit". Anything to save time, really. Anyway, Zac had had some trouble with the streamlined-drip compressor chamber on his hover craft, and demanded a refund. The only problem was, I never sold him a hover craft. (I had skipped over the hover crafts in the catalogue; too big to be a trit.) Unfortunately, due to my lack of education on the laws and ordinances of the United States, (actually my lack of education period) I was led into a jail a month later wearing handcuffs and a sack over my head. The guards said it was for protection, but they kept letting go of my hands and leading me into walls and corners. Prison life is tough. In the "joint" I met my two best friends. Tanner Boyse: a flower thief from Kentucky; had a mean jagged scar that streaked like lightning down his right eye and led all the way down to his genitals. He didn't like to talk about it, especially because the only time when people would ask about it was in the shower and that gets weird. Caitlin Duncan: a guard at the prison; benches 250, previously served time in the county jail for killing a man, but it turned out the man wasn't dead and was buried alive, so she was pardoned and sued the city for millions.
After we broke out, Caitlin setting the distraction and Tanner and I jumping the fence, we realized that we had lost too much blood from being shot at, and that it wasn't a good idea to keep running because I kept tripping on my intestines which had fallen out after I had attempted to vault the fence and went straight into the barbed wire. We let out a sigh of defeat, and lie there until the fat prison guards caught up with us. But out of literally nowhere, Zac showed up in his slick hover craft and apologized for putting me in prison! He had realized it wasn't actually his hover craft that was broken, it was his bad attitude, and once it had changed, everything seemed to work again!!! I thanked him and punched him in the stomach twice, hard, and we salvaged our seemingly destroyed friendship. He flew us out of there, time traveled into 2009, and it was there where we made our home and experimented with the many facets of organized music. Call us mudbison.
Hey man, I've had you added on myspace for a while now, but I just listened to your music for the first time. You've got a great voice! Hope to make it to one of your shows sometime.
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