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?
