Mog and Chips

“If you asked em what nyquist theorum, or BMC were they’d shrug” He said, in his music technological knowledge.

She pondered this. This theory and this… BMC… must have a very important backstory indeed. And they did.

For you see, the BMC is an abbrieviation for none of than the Batty Catladies Melodramatics club. And they were after the jam of the precious Nyquist. This Nyquist was constructed by Jesus himself, taking quantum physics, the sound barrier, a formula one engine and some maple syrup, beating the mixture vigourously and cooking at 500 degrees celcius in the volcano on the north pole. Once done, it is covered in cream, jam, and grammar. And Jesus kept his Nyquist, and it was good.

But the Batty Catladies Melodramatics (club) were envious. Their efforts to create a Nyquist failed, and ate their babies. So they gathered up their shawls and tabbies, and trekked to the north pole to steal the Nyquist.

After a valiant battle, the BCM and their cats retreated. But alas, there was now cat hair in the jam, and Jesus sneezed his curses on them in vain! And he said unto the lord, “These nigga’s sabotaged ma holy Nyquist! Ah demand vengence!”

One of the catladies objected, that Jesus would not exact revenge on them. “I tried that before, and all I got was cat hair in ma jam, beotch!” And so God bestowed dogs into the world, to eat the cats of the evil catladies, and it was good.

But no! The cousins of the catladies stole the dogs, and turned them into their own mutated horrors! They transformed them into handbag pooches, resembling the devil. God saw this, and was displeased. He bestowed cats to the world once again to lure the demon pooches out of the handbag, and it did now rain cats. The owners of the demon pooches slipped on the now blood and cat gut covered streets, and ruined their precious ‘fashions’. And it was good.

But they created an uprising, and approachd Jesus as he was picking cat hairs out of the precious Nyquist. They demanded something called ‘Compensation’, and the very world trembled at the mention of such an abomination. They were armed with lawyers, who scribbled furiously into their notebooks as Jesus sneezed once more.

The result was not pretty. The next day an army of a thousand barristers came to take Jesus’s only possession away; his Nyquist. They also demanded he owe them for damages to the Nyquist, the cat hairs, and unable to pay this, he was arrested and put into community service.

After that, he found a job as a pizza delivery boy, and took on a second job as a paper boy. He found a flat for £225 a month, filled with holes and roaches, and it was not good. On his meager wages he could afford one meal every two days, but if he did see a woman with a demonic handbag pooch, he could make that last for several days.

Alas this lasted only a short while. For on one paper round a dangerously greyscale paper colided tragically with someone’s forehead. This was the end of Jesus’s freedom - arrested on the spot, he was taken to jail. He did not pass go, and he did not collect £200 minus tax.

And it was good.

Jesus had three meals a day, had scheduled exercise arranged for him, and made many friends. He even inherited the playstation 3 and cable that belonged the the inmate before him, released 20 years before his due for good behaviour, on the hunt two months later for continuing his serial murders from where he left off.

Eventually the time came for Jesus to leave. He begged to stay, until he discovered they would house him and give him some money to live on for a while. He proceed to buy a car, to which he pimped with such a large spoiler it could fly. Never once forgetting his original quest - to find the Nyquist - he took the car and flew across the world, in search for it, making sure no-one knew his identity.

He found the Nyquist, and hid it under a town. The town became a city, and the site directly about the Nyquist a school. And Jesus lived there, under the guise of being a science technician. And was hit by her bag one day as she walked into science, and from then on she has been destined to go to hell.

I ran out of steam here. But this is what tea and golden syrup and boyfriends talking music tech talk does to you at 2-3am. But seriously, there was a technician that looked like Jesus at my school, and I sent him flying across the corrodor with my backpack because I had one of those massive ones and turned around directly in front of him. He even cut his hair and beard short, and he still looked like Jesus. I also didn’t notice and kept walking.

And I still need to finish packing.

Damnit.

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