She laid on the ground. Sick. Decapitation.

She laid on the ground. Sick. Decapitation. Her head faced east. Her neck bloody and ragged. And in the pool of glistening blood was a slice of apple pie. I lit a smoke to think.

It was obviously Apple-pie Angus. I felt a slithery shiver negotiate it self down my back.I looked down again at the slice of apple pie next to the corpse, Angus' murder signature.

the source of it's existence. Because I was certain of one thing: I need to end this. Following it, I finally revealed the truth, and as much as I tried to deny it, there was no

way I could. The truth is supposed to set you free, but I think in this case it just might kill me. I would end this on my terms at least. I looked up at the source and

fired finger guns at it. "Pew, pew," I said despondently. My impending death was really sucking the fun out of the whole situation.

I sent again for Bill & Ted but they and the Princesses were gallivanting around time & space. Not even they could dissuade from my course but it sure would be bitchin to hear them

play air guitar just one more time before I left this eon. Oh well. I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead into the winds of time. I could feel the emptiness of space against my

soul as I started playing "Smoke on the Water". The beautiful moment was ruined by the booing of music store employees, who had to hear the vexing jingle from 9 to 5 every day.

It didn't matter. I, also known as Ritchie Blackmore, knew the riff was pure magic.