And what, have you slice and dice my words with your silver tongued delivery that disguises the vile evil-ness of your unnatural nature, NEVER!
OK what the hell, here's what happened. I showed up at an audition for the drumming spot in one Mr. Lenny Kravitz' band. Phil, whom I did not know at the time, was due to go on first, which he did. Something about seeing the goodness that is me did something to this man's evil nature. I could feel his plotting the second I walked into the room. Phil immediately pulled out some staff paper and started writing music.
He cleverly slipped his music onto the stands after his audition and before mine, and as it turns out, Phil was able to compose a piece of music, right there on the spot, that would hypnotize the people who were playing it. He is an evil genius. While they were in that suggestive state, Phil, through a masterfully worded verse, planted the suggestive thought in Lenny's head that when I did my audition, that whatever I play would instantly suck the life and soul from Mr. Kravitz. And the spell never wore off. So I can never play with him again.
So now you know that our own wonderful Phil...is a master manipulator, a formidable hypnotist, a cunning strategist and a petty thief. While I was playing, in my horror of seeing Lenny's knees go weak...that scoundrel Phil lifted my stick bag with my lucky bud given to me by none other than Bob Marley himself, on his deathbed.
So not only was that loss traumatic for me, I was never able to work in that town after that day. But the thought of Lenny Kravitz just losing all life force the second I played, still haunts me to this day and makes me wake up in cold sweats at night strangling my pillow, apparently wishing it was Phils scrawny little chicken neck.
So there you have it. What really happened.
BTW, I understand Lenny's "Fly Away" was written after watching me run out of there screaming. Stickbagless.
