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Wooden Wand & the Vanishing Voice

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As conjecture and lore is all there is, I’ll just tell you what I know. Legend has it that the story begins, as most of these sort of mythological tales do, on the road, with a chance conversion with a great and wise woman named The Priest.

After escaping from the rigorous training of the renowned Czech piano/gymnastics academies, Heidi ‘H Reality’ Diehl came to the United States using the frequent flyer miles of an altruistic donut-maker. Barely a teenager, she stayed in a trailer beside a carnival, occasionally picking up odd jobs (and at the carnival, there were only odd jobs) and constructing large-scale Earthworks. Eventually she decided to skip town. Hitchhiking for days, the young runaway rode hundreds of miles with the benevolent Priest, who trained her in guitar playing and ancient spellcasting.

Cosmic coincidence led the pair to a Tavern on the crust of the Hudson River called the G Spot, where Heidi happened to catch a one act show by a man calling himself King Arthur. He had his socks pulled over his shoes and wore a mustache and cape. The audience of drunks and hussies booed and hissed at the young artist, with whom Heidi felt an immediate affinity. After the show, she approached the stranger, who was still wiping blood from his eyes from where bottles had crashed, and introduced herself. The two hit it off immediately. “You wanna ride with me to St Louis? I’m sort of on this tour.” Heidi looked around for The Priest, but she was nowhere in sight. Before she knew it, she was in the stranger’s abominable blue van heading south.
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