Yo, what do you want, beak or jaws, feathers or fur, sharp teeth or feet with claws,

whatever's preferred, they'll grant you all last request to steady your nerves, then podcast

the body parts get severed and served. Bring your weak shit, where the wall for now, la. That ain't just a mistake,

that's an awful howler. Both of them are known to pull up at your shows. Have the crowd witnessing a murder like they rolled in with a gang of crows. Fuck their censorship. Let them see the whole thing. They stay dressed to kill. Never sheep's clothing. Dark enough to turn the sun to the moon. You'll see nothing. All your hear's a huffer puff and the... Expect killings, red spilling and flesh ripping

impressive in it, the death bringing its head spinning.

Just kidding.

Every word in his song's about two grown men

dressed up as a bird and a dog.

Recordings in progress.

And that brings us to the beginning of a brand new

fresh episode, freshly baked,

just taken out of the oven.

Can you smell that?

Oh, that is the indescribable

freshly baked smell of another wolf and owl.

The beautiful stench of the wolfenow.

Yes. Yes.

I'm about to exactly say freshly baked as in bread and not freshly baked as in the turd we're about to lay out of direction-free chat.

How are you?

Very well, mate.

Very well. Yeah, good, good.

I'm wearing this tops a bit booby.

...