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Jack Primus, The Ghetto Shaman Rally, and all the chicken wings he could eat.

Washington, DC—The National Mall was packed wall to wall
with celebrities attending the Shaman’s Rally to Retrieve the
U.S. Soul.   After a long weekend of bashing in the skulls of the foul
Darcarre, Jack Primus had swung east and support the Discord’s
cause.

          Being a fictional character doesn’t stop Primus from doing any number ofcool things on a given day.  You know that dude, the world’s most interesting man, on those Dos Equis commercials?  Jack Primus won’t
return his calls.  Jack is the archetypal hero.  He captured the new
century’s zeitgeist, and then keeps it chained in his basement next to his morning star.

Primus rarely does interviews, but for the Discord…we paid him.

“The Ghetto Shaman has given his blessing to Yig,” said Primus.  “He is
truly wise.  Since he’s been receiving death threats from both
the Xemmoni underground and the Sharon Angle campaign—both sworn enemies of Yig—I had decided to help out my old friend.  He asked me to support his cause, protect him from the super natural forces that be, and, of course, buy him some malt liquor products.  Actually I only agreed if
The Shaman promised me a plug on the Discord to sell my book and give me all the chicken wings I could eat. And the joke was really on them for I hid an extra eighty in my backpack; I heard Zano is getting his wages garnished over that one. But GS told me he’s got Winslow wrapped around his little chicken wing and I could muscle-in whenever I wanted.”
         

         Oh, so you haven’t read The Chronicles of Jack Primus?  It’s kind of
hard to believe, like The Ghetto Shaman’s last STD clinic visit.   Which
reminds me, you better not have been lying to me, fucker.  Back to my
book… You better get one, now, at
http://www.amazon.com/Chronicles-Jack-Primus-Book/dp/1935458434.

           You’re going to need one if what happened at the Mall on October 30th continues to plague America Everything had started out well. The Discord was busing people down and, at the event. The Ghetto Shaman was reading excerpts of Jack Primus.  And, those that didn’t decipher the Primus Code, didn’t receive a bus ride home!  This book was their return ticket.  Without it they were forced to hang out at Capital City Brewing, that big dumb brewpub downtown.  The one without any good drink specials and rubbery chicken wings.  If you get stuck down there and the Xemmoni or the Darcarre get you, don’t come bitching to me.  You’ve been warned.  They’re in all the major cities, and they tend to know when you
know…you know.  Now that you know, you better read this book and learn
how to stay alive.

          I probably shouldn’t have told you that. Can you edit that out, Winslow? Not the staying alive part, the other part.  Of course, you should try to stay alive.  Geesh, you some kinda moron?  Not you, Winslow.  Fucking hell.”

           “So what happened that day? Why did GS think that he needed me there? He isn’t called a Shaman for nothing. They did come after him that day. In mass, I might add. Why do you think the special wasn’t on television and they switched all the coverage to those other two guys with the weird haircut and no sideburns?

           It was those damn Darcarre again. They didn’t want GS message to get out to the people or more importantly Yig’s message, could you imagine what would have happened if GS told everyone on national television to dissolve our differences and embrace the All Father snake. Yep your right, we’d all be in a state of bliss, with all hungers and wars being a thing of the past. Don’t look at me like that. Snakes are all about bliss… duh.”

           So when they came, I was ready, or at least I was once I wiped the BBQ sauce off my weapon hand.  GS even helped with the battle he was pretty bad ass with those chicken bone nun-chucks. We gave those Serial Killers a good licking, but the damage had been done. They jammed the telecast and those other stooges claimed all the credit. Oh well, we’ll get them next time.’

          Some call Primus a Yig-loving fictional freak.  Whereas this is true,
it’s still not a very nice thing to say.  We would rather say stay alive, learn your enemy, and read the Chronicles of Jack Primus.

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