A long dusted over trail at the break of sunlight. A man child with an overgrown imagination walks. Ripped jeans and a rusty guitar, he plucks the strings like the feathers of an irritable Norwegian emu. The sounds were so offending to the ear that the gods turned their backs. A high decibel hiss rang out of the amplifier. He walked. Miles away children cried and mothers wept. The doom was on its way... They were totally mistake though, it was just JR. Ladies and gentlemen, JR Greene