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formed in the caves of an east side hide out, a weary traveler bonded with another fish sign causing waves to ripple throughout their tiny village of Des Moines. A drummer, also the last sign, and oblivious to the trickery, followed the glowing yellow t-bird to the depths of a magical south side hill where confusion followed. The realization that this confusion followed certain pre-etched lines of travel, a pathway, and the chaos dripped down into almost chords and almost sounds, caused an awakening in the musical world, much like the dolphins predicted long ago. This small band of brothers in fish have devoted their energies to giving crowdal orgasms and audiencial climaxes.