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The Deep
Behold The White Horse
I Shot Them
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It was the year 1861. A few gentlemen went to their local New England pub for a snort of whisky...little did they know, their lives would be changed....FOREVER. Now, legend has it that one of those old boys was named Sir Sean Taylor the third (you know, one of those knight chaps). Being as there was no war nearby, Sir Sean was appointed as the town's sanitation engineer (although, back then, he would have been called the gutter cleaner, the master of the hogs, or Sir Sean the shit-picker-upper). He happened to pass a young bum named Mike the man Fredo. Sean was in the habit of giving him a few cents of change. He was one of those guys that asked for you for your change so that he could "eat." Our Mike was one poor bastard-the exact opposite of Charles Bounds. You see back then the town was run by the man with the most wives (more wives=more kids=more crop yeild=more m..more wives. you get the picture). That man just happened to be able to leap 18 feet without a running start. Anyway, Charles Bounds was a terribly striking fellow; which resulted in his having about 32.46 wives under his belt (the .46 was a young lady he had been working on for a couple of hours). The only problem Charles had with this young woman was that her family would never allow such a union. Which was bad news for Charles because her brother was a half-bean, 6 shoot champion who could stab you to death without a knife (although he preferred sticking a good serrated edge in your back). This Jimmy Watts had been feared throughout the west, and he would try his hand in the crime scene on the easter seaboard. This alarmed the county sheriff, one Eric Playsted, who earned his star fighting "those damn canadian lumberjacks with their damn mules and their damn axes" as he liked to call them. The poor man had already lost an eye to a mule, a leg to a hungry lumberjack and half of his left butt cheek to one of thier axes. Well Charles and Jimmy scheduled a meeting in the local pub to discuss bargaining terms. The sheriff decided he should keep an eye on those two as well as miss sally (the local saloon whore with whom he was infatuated). The town bumb, Mike, happened to be nursing his hard begged beer for the night. And poor Sir Sean just happened to be there trading the stench of garbage for the stench of alcohal (we all know that knights and garbagemen are raging alcoholics, which made Sir Sean some kind of double alcoholic with extra rage. I don't know what that means, maybe he pissed blood or something wicked like that). It just so happened that at that moment, God himself ordained a rift in time between 1861-Pub-New England and 2003-Boise, Idaho. These four chums found themselves in some kids garage. Apparantly god couldn't stand the noise a random garage band was making so he sent them back in time to replace the band. Well the five decided to stick together, being all alone in the future and completley lost. Each landed next the thier respective instruments. Eric-guitar, Sean-guitar, Mike-Bass, Charlie-drums, Jimmy-nothing. Suddenly an angel appeared before them. Immediately Charlie hid behind his drums, sean (being drunk off his ass) asked if it was an angel, eric was too busy being a fucker to notice, Mike tried to bum a smoke from the angel, and Jimmy stabbed the angel, stole its halo, pawned it for 3 dollars, and bought a sack of beans for lunch. The group quickly flushed the dead angel down the toilet. They decided that only as My Sexy Assassin could they survive the wrath of God. So each of them honed his instrument and for the rest of eternity they battled God, his heavenly host, and the rest of the world with kick-ass tunes like Math Ah Ah Ah and Marsupials make the best people.
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