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Deep in the Land of Frogwod
The Land of Frogwod
Born Edward Force, somewhere in the fens. From a very young age, Eddie played music. At 13 he won a scholarship to the Moscow conservatory to study cello. While there, he was recruited into a drugs and tobacco smuggling ring, which he subsequently turned into an aid network, benefiting thousands of people who had suffered under the smugglers.
In the meantime, Eddie was becoming increasingly experimental in his playing at the conservatoire. He had a special harness made that enabled him to hold the cello horizontally. Tragically, at the first public performance using the harness, one of the leather tensioning thongs snapped, allowing the base of the heavy instrument to catapult upwards, ending forever any young dreams Eddie may have had of fatherhood.
The accident did nothing to slow Eddie’s progress. He was schooled in Switzerland, while working for a pharmaceuticals company. He explains what happened next, “ I wanted action. So I volunteered for Mi6. They said I had balls.They said I HAD BALLS!” In a rare show of emotion, Eddie bursts into tears and demolishes a tea urn.
His association with the British Government lasted several years and at the age of 20 he was head of a Special Ops team for the SAS. It’s hard to imagine Eddie barking out orders and bawling at subordinates. Those lucky enough to meet Eddie now, always talk about how charmingly softly spoken he is and how gracious his demeanour and manners. He has earned the nickname Djentleman Eddie, alluding not only to his charm, but also his guitar playing. To hear a sample, click here.
Things went horribly wrong for Eddie when what started as a routine mission to rescue a child from a burning train, became a scene of mental carnage that none but those who were there can explain, and they are not talking. Eddie certainly isn’t. He was allowed to leave his position on compassionate grounds, receiving a generous pension and an OBE.
Eddie felt an overwhelming sense of freedom as soon as he was discharged, and a sudden and undeniable urge to play loud electric music. He bought a seven string guitar, a pod, a giant amplifier that only he could lift. So it began. At first an hour or two after breakfast and the same after tea. But soon there was no breakfast and there was no tea; there was nothing but the noise of Eddie’s fingers flashing against his instrument; a glorious explosion of djentjuice again and again….until he collapsed. He may very well have died, had not a former senior colleague called in time to find him, fingers still flailing at the fret board, tongue lolling, heartrate low. That colleague remains anonymous, but it was he who was responsible for booking Eddie in to the Stosenstein clinic in Switzerland.
Dr Stosenstein comments:
When we encounter Edward, we encounter a large, apparently sophisticated male human. But this is an illusion, for Edward is the sleeping volcano; benign and beautiful until…the inevitable eruption. For Edward, the function of playing music on any instrument, is to create that eruption; to allow all that has been boiling and seething beneath the quiet exterior to stream forth. I have observed that of all the instruments he plays, Edward appears to be most stimulated by the guitar.
You must realise this man is dangerous and has been trained to kill, even though he tries to forget it. He can’t, and if he is approached playing the guitar, his arm may shoot out and pierce an innocent person in the guts. You are playing with dynamite here, return him to my clinic before you regret it.