"And STAY out" were the last words your deeply religious father ever spoke to you...it's been 3 years now, 3 years since your deeply religious father found out what you and your friends were doing in the basement all summer...your father didn't like the clatter coming from the basement and he liked what he saw in there even less when he climbed down the stairs to investigate...he found his son, an alter boy, slathered in fake blood, growling into a microphone, writhing on the floor...your father could not understand Abracadaver, the death metal band you started with your friends that fabled summer 3 years ago, he called it blasphemy...he was right! So he booted you. Abracadaver went on tour for 3 months and broke up in San Antonio, where you've lived on the streets ever since. But at least the music lives on...psyche! Y'all never even recorded a demo! All you ever did was sit around the practice space smoking doobs and listening to W3 Thr33 Tr0lls! Oops!