One or two cut-out vinyl LPs, secretly, ...& the original Parcheesi

but i digress just for the fun of it like we all once did 'ere dbisly

((((O’er Micky McMantelPieces, Stark Raving B, & Ol’FastEddie . . . A Retread))))

The Legend of The 3 Reals (Zen Triptych & The Fate of the IIC)

Ode to the lost legend of Baerwald's 3 new reels, said to be called "The 3 Reals" (and somethin' else more secret that I don’t know, son, because I’m not a member of the.. Iniquitous Inner Core).

(As folk lore would have you imagine, this story begins somewhere in the middle...when) Mick stole The 3 Reals and floated off with them …only to be gillnetted and bopped on the paddy melon by Brad, The Champaler, the only mystic who can see Mick when in his transmutated state of dis-awareness. Brad, once known as Brad, The Tempter, but now just plain Stark Raving Brad, or… Mick’s Gnarly Nemesis, Brad, then howled a banshee wail and skateboarded off with the reels …and was neither seen nor heard of for weeks. Until, as lore would have you believe, Ed (just Ed) flew (well not so much `flew` as wafted) south for the winter, swooped up on a trivet and snared a drowsy Brad (on an impulsive southern getaway lethargic after seventy-two hours of contemplative sleep deprivation and plagiarizing Rocky Horror Picture Show tunes in his new one man cheeky review with seventeen costume changes & a TJ donkey act that he, himself, performs in drag), and made off with The 3 Reals and Brad's favorite triangle...

Brad's ..favorite ..triangle! DRAT!

...He was last perceived bounding into some Himalayan crevasse with a case of fine burgundy and a golden brocade sack in one hand and Brad’s triangle in the other …followed closely behind by Sabu, the Ghost Cat of the Himalayas, and the true remaining members of Kingston Wall (not the imposters who replaced them in a mysterious contractual agreement @ a Ravi Shankar jam).

…Brad is said to wander the bay area humming disconsolate dirge melodies he calls the Double-D Lamentations when approached, checking garbage cans and mail boxes for his favorite triangle. (If you see him rooting through your mail, please be kind as it is believed he IZ a true member of the Iniquitous Inner Core…& ..therefore ..sacred.)

Mick? …Surely he’s right there behind you …but you cannot see him …because he doesn’t want you to.

[Any resemblance to anyone living, metamorphosing, or deadly, or any actual three reels is purely for libidinous lampoon and borrowed herein for sake of creative license only. But, still…]

mb