Around the weekend of December 5, 2014, during Eric (“The Necromancer”) Eulogy’s scorpion rustling days (the cutlets were delicacies in Upper Saddle River, NJ, at the time), Joel (“Papa Bear”) Dunst literally bumped into “Necro” at the Bent Over Sheep Cafe in Nephi, UT (home of the headless komodo dragon shepherd), after delivering a commanding and rousing lecture/dem about repairing the rare catgut stringed sackbut at the 17th International Porcelain Sousaphone Symposium being held at the Snapped Saddlehorn Motel on the main drag. Necro was lying in a heap in the middle of the restaurant after having been stung numerous times by a Hadrurus spadix he was attempting to lasso amid the gurgling squeals of Big Tilly, the 6’ 9” buxom waitress, who had summoned Ol’ Eric to her establishment to rid the place of these big black hairy pests (good in stews with parsnips and garlic). He was busy turning a wondrous shade of royal blue.

Moving to Winslow, AZ, to get a better start on a musical career, the guys ran into (since he was standing bolt upright in the middle of Rte. 87, North) Pantsless McCarthy, the world-renowned WWI skinflute yodeler. After a few rounds of Slim Dusty’s version of “Waltzing Matilda,” they decided to form a trio: Pantless’ Eulogy’s Dunst. For awhile, with “Less” on fluglespoons and upright washboard, Necro on five-and-a half-stringed guitar and jaw harp (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YeAp1fPt8E), and Denali on Hi-Hat and snare, the trio created a moderate sensation in NE AZ and parts of uncharted NM. Sadly, it was Less’ persistent yeast infections that brought an end to the trio, especially after one catastrophic performance at the Munchkavitz bar mitzvah in Punkin Center, AZ (home of the pendulous appendages), when Nana Hilde asked Joel if the three of them worked a side job in a nearby bakery. Something about the Rye Bread…

Resettling in Tucson, AZ, and living with Denali’s growing family of 14 (the twins were on their way) in a Geodesic Dome atop Finger Rock in the Catalina Mountain Range, the lads began experimenting with musical styles and instruments: Neck-row settling on guitar and Papa Bear constructing a drum set from Lincoln Logs and LEGOs...and drum heads courtesy of discarded Gecko hides left strewn about Kimball Peak after all night reptilian orgies. The sound evolved into a Clash meets Ralph Stanley quality...with a sprinkling of some killer chipotle. It was about then that the other band mates began to drift into the mix…