Artists : So & So
It all started many years ago… well… not that many, but enough to build a story upon.
Three characters, who could not be more different from each other, found themselves in a similar situation, with very different plans.
Miss Muffet, after finishing her giant bowl of curds (and finding out that she was lactose intolerant) decided she needed a change of scene. The incident with the spider sitting near our protaganesse was almost more traumatic to her delicate sensibilities than was once thought. But, what we also don’t know is that she was as tough as leather boots. We may find this odd given her unassuming diet (only the makings of what would later have become cheese, the enzymes in the finished product proving too spicy) and her arachnaphobia (although she is coincidentally a huge John Goodman fan). She at once had a propensity for the macabre and the romantic, seldom found co-existing in a modern day woman. She needed people who understood her and the final vision of her worldly pursuits.
Enter Raisin Higgins- a very minor character in the anals of written folklore & fairytales, and usually relegated to a mere reference in the web-weaving of some of our most prolific raconteurs. Raisin, coiffed in a dark purple hat, and matching purple garments was looking to find himself a bigger place in “story”. He saw a perfect foil, and coat-tail, in Muffet’s burgeoning reputation. Having been overshadowed by the now infamous “Peculiar Purple Pieman of Porcupine Peak” Raisin needed to secure his niche…somewhere. Well…that proved more daunting a task than at first thought. A recluse by nature, with a very strange personal composition of parochial upbringing and general strangeness is usually just a recipe for the psyche-ward. It still is. but with Muffet’s help, he thought,-“Maybe I can do something that people will notice!”.
At a similar time, icy ground was being broken thousands of miles to the north by a quick witted, slow-footed man of ambition, and candid humor. A progressive genius with electronics, and a curious loping gate, Turtle, our third spoke in the proverbial wheel was looking for a threesome. Not in the modern sense, but in the Victorian, where “making love” could easily pass for mundane sweet talk between two prospective lovers.
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