Premonitions, False Gods and a Bottle of Jever

‘Twas a clear night in 1972’s Lagos. Mr. X sat on his favorite chair, smoking his favorite pipe, drinking his favorite beer, when suddenly he saw two shooting stars passing right over his head. A clear sign, of course. He knew immediately this was a religious sign. What else could it be? A premonition that he had to start painting at once. “A whacky little group (they might have something to do with fruits) will release the Baby Dash model for FS in May 2009.”

As always, it wasn’t surprising a strong following started. First one, then eight, then five again, then thirty-seven. Mr. X was a prophet, a messiah, his word was the rule, and his fist was hard and golden. Celebrations were held, virgins were sacrificed, goats were eaten (or the other way around, theologians’ opinions differ extremely on this matter today), bumper stickers for cars were created (because hey, once the guy in the car behind you reads about your whacky beliefs in tiny letters, his conversion must be imminent).
Years went by. The cult gathered again and again. Mr. X had long become an old man; his long, grey beard was almost worshipped as much as the Dash-God himself. It was a fuzzy, soft grey mess, big enough for the children to play hide and seek. On 30 April 2009, the night before the rapture judgment day salvation release, everybody gathered in front of Mr. X’s house. It was near, everybody felt it, they knew it. Everyone brought candles, lighters, MP3-players to pass the time, white gowns and folding chairs. There was a kumbaya feeling in the air. So they waited. And waited. Time passed, first midnight, then morning, then evening, then days and more days…

Mr. X was found murdered, brutally slaughtered, dismantled, and ironically enough shaven, on 09 May 2009. Their salvation hadn’t come. His judgment day came. Though he might have imagined it differently all those years.

The Baby Dash was finally, truly released on 09 January the following year, coinciding with The Fruit Stand‘s third anniversary. In the spirit of Mr. X, the team raised their bottles of Jever*. Only once in a lifetime you have a sect following. Only once in a lifetime you’re Gods to those damn peasants. Most certainly, it always ends in death.

And what do you learn from this, dear children? The moral of the story? Never ever trust a damn announced release date! It will always be followed by utter disappointment.

*Craig passed out after the first sip. Again. The boy really needs to learn how to hold his liquor.