Bo hemuth a.k.a. Dr. Jacob Lubins

Since time immemorial an entity known as B’eu-Hemutt lingered in the depths of an ancient prison, in a domain so decrepit, so profane, not the light of day nor soul of man could escape it’s immutable grip. Not until modern man’s fury and lust for power unleashed a terror across the skin of the earth, a horrid consequent which saw the ablution of the Great Old One from its perverse tomb. Ye, there was a cursed juju about whence it arose; so then it was that with some divine necromancy, this foul beast was trapped inside the body and soul of one humble enough to hold it.

Enter: Dr. Jakob Alexandre Cornelius Lubins, owner of Dr. Loobins’ -hair combing and greasin’ service- out of Bath, North Carolina. Out for for a kindly stroll one late summer evening it hit him, his mama said it was a stroke, the preacher said it was the hand of god. But the good doctor himself will tell you it smells like burnt paint and jasmine. Whatever happened left Dr. Lubins with a crooked grin and the unexplainable gift of song. His soul now entwined with beast, it cries through this humble man, bringing the dirge of countless epoch. They sing to you now a wretched cry from a forbidden era.

Lukey peppers

His heart raced like the pounding of a thousand darbuka. He knew he’d be cursed. Imbibing the soft, ripened cheese was an abomination- for his religion would not allow it! Defiantly he felt his teeth tear thru the soft flesh of the rind exposing his lips to the dank, creamy innards. The mallow possessed him. He sobbed in ecstasy. Once a virgin now soiled like a dove among pigeons, His Holy servant Luke of Alflufaloo forsook his family name, stumbled out of the Levant like an urchin into a cataclysmic, geomagnetic anomaly which stripped him of all melanin. Now blessed with a mystical rhythm and a white-ish glow like the god of the sun himself, the locals call him “White Pepper” and his chants wash away the sins of the beautiful or the damned.

CHIPPY BOTTOMs

Chippy Bottoms started his life as every ginger child; a happy romp in the sandbox, sewing golden tuxedos for circus monkeys and, of course, overseeing the procurement of the world’s finest toe jelly. All too often though, a child wanders too close to the sun. This is when, during a brief period of high-density solar activity, Chippy, in the course of his normal childhood duties, incorrectly filleted a rather gangrenous pufferfish for his mid afternoon luncheon, which he ate happily and washed it down with an old jar of his grandpappy’s homemade mushroom beer. This combination would prove fatal to most 6 year olds...but for Chippy, it was the key to everlasting life. Now irradiated, he moves thru portals of space and time, an iron-human possessing a knowledge that no mortal man could ever understand. But, everyday he endeavors to show us ourselves through his ultimate, quantum knowledge, even though we cannot begin to perceive this gift. And as every sunset dissolves, he climbs into the stratus and becomes one with the void, until the earth’s sun returns and he is again reborn for us. And everyday he awakens to start this solemn life anew

Johnny Huge

Belgian lore claims a savage race of man would come from the north, bringing the might of a thousand armies, a thunder so true, it would surely turn an entire city to dust. It was said only the purest virgin sacrificed up on high could tame these northern beasts. And so, the legend came to pass, and these beasts came with all their violence, and the people had no choice but to seek out their most fair or be turned to dust themselves. But as they lay the virgin child of the Belgian king on the altar, the greatest of these fantastic beasts couldn’t help but look upon the beauty of their captor, for there was a sweetness to his soul. And her beauty was so pure, she could beguile a man with a wink of her eye. In that instant, taking up his hammer, he turned on his brethren and slaughtered them one and all, and in the name of his true love, he sacrificed his own immortal family to save this one perfect soul and purge himself of these blasphemous crimes. The city was spared by this king of giants, and as years passed, the people came to know him as “friend” or “hero”, for he had no name, his culture had no use for them, so the Belgians found a name that suited him... John Huge