They were called the NuGrape Magpie. No one knew why, but it sounded great at the time.
All of this was too long ago to remember, but I wrote it out anyway.
They were a bunch of little British college boys, with their regulation haircuts and painfully hopeful smiles; they wanted to be "different" and "special", 'cos English schools really do that to your head. So, they wore Tibetan prayer beads, and tie-dyed caftans, and the Shroud of Turin on their backs.
They were little better than Muzak (AM early BeeGees, if you can understand that). The singer was a neurotic guy, dark haired, nervous tic in one eye, manically twitching as he sang. His real name was Norman, but he never used it. Not even on term papers.
Well, to sum it up there'd been some killings of late, read it in all your local papers, and well, Norm sure had been taking SOMETHING that night....maybe even...LSD??
"Armadillos!" he screamed thru their top 10 riff, "you're all fuckin' capitalist pigs!"
Then, pulling an axe from his caftan, he cried "I'm a killer! Jack the Ripper! I'm fuckin' Moby Dick!!!"
They had a guitarist named Claude, quiet little straight A kid, 'least til the axe cleaved thru his skull. People screamed and it was real scary. Thick blood like strawberry jam...
The drummer held Norm til the cops came; wasn't necessary, he'd gone into shock from the sight of the blood on his hands, muttering "koyaanisqatsi" under his breath. They diagnosed him dementia praecox and trephinned him at the end of the month. But friends still like to tell the tale of how Norm went into a garden one night. Heard he could summon Beezelbub by reciting the Lord's prayer backwards? Upjump the devil, & scared him out of his wits.