Deep in an unknown bayou, on a night so foggy the light of the full moon could barely penetrate through the cypress trees, there was a dark figure that emerged from the deepest part of the swamp. Draped in Spanish moss, the mysterious figure stumbled its way to a closed recording studio along side a dark, quiet highway.
All through the night, strange lights, words, and sounds emanated from inside. The sounds were mystical, serene, haunting and unusual. The words were silly, philosophical, meaningful, and strange. For miles around the animals of the swamp fled in fear and wonder from what would soon emerge from the studio.
At sunrise the next morning, a lone studio engineer arrived at work. Sitting on the console was a CD. “Eaten by Clowns” was scrawled across the cover written in a cryptic hand. Curious, the engineer put the CD into the player.
The next morning as the coroner was removing the body of the engineer from the studio, the police forensic team discovered the “Eaten by Clowns” CD. Unsure of its relevance, the lead forensic detective sent the CD to his friend who worked at a record company in Los Angeles.
For months a search of the bayou was conducted and finally the figure was found. Dragged from the muck and ooze of the Louisiana bayou, it was hurried into a music company van and rushed to a nearby hotel. Showers were taken, agreements were reached, and contracts were signed. The CD was released into the world with a simple cover and a brand new warning label, the first of its kind. It read:
Eaten by Clowns – May God have mercy on your soul.