You are lost. Your car has broken down somewhere in the desert, there is no sign of life. The sun burns and the tumbleweed rolls on past your feet. In the distance you see a lone man. How did he get there? Where is he from? What does he want? Gradually he walks closer to you. Slung over his flanellette shoulder is an old guitar. As he nears, you notice his snakeskin boots shuffling out an addictive rhythm. He stops about twenty metres from you and stares you in the eye. You can feel your skin crawl, not knowing what is about to happen. Your knees give way and you fall to the dirt and begin to vomit. You can't understand what is happening...what is this power he has over you? He pulls the guitar into his hands and spits,
"You can't get any more Southern than Hell"
