The Cut - photo by: Grail Ogzewalla

I know, I know – the blood looks fake. Still, I’m glad we only had an Xacto knife and not a revolver. God knows . . . we would of made a heck of a mess. And we were not going to clean it up.

The Anti-Climax - photo by: Grail Ogzewalla

Wren Magnum

We went there to hang and to see Wren Magnum. This guy is a freakin’ spectacle. His schtick is basically doing old rockabilly covers and some kind of standup thing in between songs. He does a hell of a Johnny Cash impression and his Elivs isn’t bad either.

I want his pompadour. I had a pompadour but it was never this amazing.

While checking out the show my other friend Angus came in.

This where things got weird. You see we got into a fairly lengthy discussion about Angus’ soul. He tried to sell it to us and we even tried to buy it. However, our offers of beer, cigarettes, bits of string and cocktail napkins weren’t exactly what he was after.

You see Angus wasn’t desperate. Out of this bargain he wants to become famous. Or at least a famous artist.

I decided that Angus’ soul would actually be more of a burden – kind of like buying a used car that needs constant maintenance.

By this point I was getting rather drunk and I’m fairly fatigued right now so details are going to go a bit pear-shaped here.

Angus Carter - Soul for Sale

Somehow Angus’ decided that he was (or is) going to make a blood sacrifice to any deity that was listening. His plan was (or is) to split his palms open, call on the ancients and I’m pretty sure a bon fire was involved. And it had to be on top of a mountain somewhere out in the county. During the detailing of this Wren Magnum was cranking out a rather haunting version of House of the Rising Sun. Now to me, this is when Angus should have done the incanation. I’m pretty sure there was a force in the room at that moment because the next thing that happened came out of the Gonzoian comos and materialized in the form of a (rather dull) X-Acto knife.

Angus decided that he needed to make the blood offering  right then. I got to do the honors. So after a few feeble attempts I managed to cut a feeble line across his palm with the blade.

It was weird. He bled. It probably won’t scar. I don’t think the gods were impressed.