CeeJay walked on the stage, resplendent as a prized turkey strutting his garble for all the hens to admire.

Outfitted in tight, stretched leather pants and a wife beater; his shaved head, giant shark tooth necklace and aviator Ray Ban’s (at night time of course) perfectly hid the used car salesman below.

The bassist dropped a check-riff.

# boom doop boodoobadoom #

Spanelli, the drummer, started laying down a beat.

# dum tshh dum tshh dum tshhh #

Ben jumped in on guitar.

# baanaa chicwicka wooow #

And CeeJay prepared to unleash his vocal instrument on the crowd.

“Feee fiii fooo fumm, I can smell the blood,” he sang screamed.

“Onnne twoo threee fooour, straight delirium.”

At first his legs just looked as if they weren’t in sync. Next, he started gesticulating as if in the throes of a somewhat rhythmic seizure.

CeeJay didn’t even notice that a third of the crowd was headed for the exits. No matter. His focus was on getting attention the only way he knew how; being a fool in front of a crowd.