My house was ransacked by a wild animal today.  There I was, mild mannerly blasting the ‘hood with Corigliano’s Piano Concerto when the ten-legged and eighteen valved beast appeared in the street and bleated out a six note motif in retaliation.  I sprang into action and mangled myself into my record collection trying to find something appropriate to shotgun into the street.  Finding only a vegan diet of Harry Belafonte and Purcell arranged for recorders,  I was cast aside like an incomplete grant application.

When the smoke cleared, I surveyed the dammage.  It drank all my flatmate’s beer and left pools of saliva everywhere. I’ve decided to dub this creature, the Tubavore.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I mentioned before, the Tubavore’s diet seems to consist mainly of beverages made from fermented hops and barley. Solid foodstuffs don’t hold it’s interest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When it’s not playing roots, dissecting orchestral excerpts, or playing hymns in church, it prefers to serenade the neighbourhood with root position chords with a low fifth. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you…. the Tubavore.

Roooooooooooo - gasp - ooooooooooooooar!!!!

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