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Magnus Moriarty tm

    Moriarty™ rides his old German violin towards the outer
    spheres of the Northern sky. By his side, the ancient
    bouzouki strummer Ergo, humming and whistling his way
    through the galaxies. The Hawk, left in the corner, sad
    and abandoned, but 11 strings left.  Organs and Jupiter
    fighter decks fold their hands.  Tape recorders and old
    school sky-fi equipment buzz in pleasure under the gentle
    touch of them pilot fingers.  Outside no summer.  Outside
    all cold and dark. Theremin pleasures and ohs and ahs.    Wait!
We are picking up something on the radar.    What can it be?    It´s approaching rapidly!    Hold on!   It´s crashing into Denver now!   There is nothing we can do.
    Alas!...............      (silence)...........     Ergo, what is that sound?      Ergo...?   Oh, them coffee nerves...   Ergo, check that creepy space echo, will you?



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