One dark and stormy night, a crash of thunder ripped the sky in two. A man going by the name of Foster, eccentric as he was, jumped at the sound. He looked out the window to see a dark figure seemingly glide past. Trying not to shit himself he picked up a shoe and threw it striking the figure square in the head. Having watched the figure fall limp to the ground Foster ventured out into the raging storm, as was human nature, to see what it was he had knocked unconcious with the piece of rubber and fabric. Upon his approach he realized it was nothing more than a young man who had been roller-blading past (why anyone would be roller-blading in the middle of a storm has still to this day not been deciphered). Knowing that one of his neighbours, an man nammed Patches, would be at home as he had no life, Foster dragged the young man to Patches front door and banged loudly. After a short time a dazed man opened the door.
"Help me out, I just knocked this kid out on the street." Foster stated.
Knowing that Foster had a talent for doing incredibly unintelligible things, Patches did not bother asking the pertinent questions of how? or why? They dragged the seemingly lifeless body into the house and placed him in the basement.
"Go grab some towels to dry him off with, I'll grab a dirtty sock from my room." Patches grunted, "If the smell of that thing won't wake this guy up there's no helping him." The two of them left the area, fixated on their current tasks. Shortly after their departure the man on the floor began to move. As his eyes opened it was clear that the mind was not all there yet.
"Thumps need music" the man groaned, seemingly zombified. Noting a drum kit in the corner Thumps hobbled towards it, sat down and began to play. Noting the sounds coming from the basement, Patches and Foster returned noting that Thumps was awake. After a quick glance at each other they each picked up their respective instruments, and spontaneously synchronized music began....
and thus, THE REMINISCENCE were born.
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