Born in the Tunguska region of Russia c. June 1908, Maxx Dikkens is known for his seemingly perpetually youthful looks which he attributes to his daily drinking of the blood of young virgins. Dikkens has been connected with a number of key events in the socio-political development of the 20th century. In fact, biographer Matthew DeSelby has gone so far as to link Maxx's eventual move to Ireland with the subsequent collapse of the Soviet Union. While the life of Mr. Dikkens is, indeed, a fascinating subject, it is already covered in depth in more mainstream literature. Thus, this article will deal specifically with the story of how Maxx acquired his first guitar.

It might, at this point, be prudent to correct the assumption that Maxx's guitar was 'acquired' in the normal sense of the word. Perhaps 'conjured' would be more appropriate!

The story begins on the eve of his 29th birthday. Having become bothered by the sexual and intellectual inferiority of his fellow villagers, Dikken's embarked on a lenghty and arduous quest of self-discovery. His journey led him to the depths of many a dark land, through grueling forest and sodden marshland, and across the sea of flame. In his search for enlightenment, Maxx battled all manner of Gorgon and shrieking Harpy until, in his 35th year, he encountered the depraved and merciless Larunda. Upon entering her murky cave, Lord Dikkens (he had since recieved his knighthood at the hands of none other than King Peter Costello himself) struggled with the Nymph for three days before impailing her upon his mighty longsword. Though the battle remains, to this day, one of Maxx's proudest victories, his slaying of such a worthy foe led him to question his life up to this point.

Shortly after the encounter, Maxx entered a monastery where he would remain for the next number of years. There, he lived a life of quiet solitude; eating little, studying obscure and ancient texts and praying daily to the dark lord. While the incessant pull of his old life of belligerence and sovereignty remained, he strived hard to keep them in check until eventually, in order to maintain his very sanity, he was forced to cut himself off from the outside world entirely.

Many years passed with Maxx having only minimal contact with even the other monks at the monastery. Then, in the year 1996, something very strange happened. While brooding over long-since-forgotten rituals of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, he overheard the excited chatter of a number of young monks. In the midst of his eavesdropping, Dikkens realised that they were listening to music. Intrigued, he left his study and began to approach the youths. As he got closer, he could make out that they were discussing a recently formed musical ensemble known as 'The Spice Girls'. Maxx cautiously began to step closer and closer until suddenly, and without provocation, one of the delinquents adjusted the volume of the recording, flooding the air with what has since been described as "aural sodomy".

Maxx's ears began to bleed. His eyes filled with tears of pure anger while his heart filled with irrepressible rage. Having abandoned society believing it to be capable of progressing without him, the world had, in fifty short years, descended into a sea of slack-jawed inanity hell-bent on glorifying amazonian masterhood. This, for so long, peaceful, man, broke out in a cold sweat as he began to feel a burning sensation throughout his body. Growing in intensity, the feeling gradually began to coalesce around his hands. It was at this point that Maxx opened his eyes to the astonishing sight of his own hysterical anger as it started to take physical form in his very hands.

As time progressed the anger began to solidify and the pain subsided. Maxx arose from his knees with a steely look in his eyes and his clothes torn and ragged. Looking down at the newly formed object in his hands he knew what had to be done. He had been given an important duty and the

For Rusty Foxx, the day began like any other, hunched with primative grace above the ragged, bloody carcass of a recently bested foe. Crouching in the blistering sunshine, the animal's blood beginning to dry around his mouth, Rusty listened with no small delight to the strangely satisfied whimpers of nearby maidens. Just yesterday, he had sacked a small village. While very little violence was required (the men of the village simply leaving in shame and humiliation while the women quickly succumbed to their uncontrollable lust) it was not uncommon for Foxx's latest wenches to weep with post-orgasmic joy in the wake of his boundless frenzy.

Rusty tore violently at the corpse, devouring hunk after hunk of raw venison. Basking in glory as the freshly slain beast's blood sprayed intoxicatingly upon his face. While he revelled, lost in his hedonistic furor, time ticked by quickly. The gig was approaching fast and the remainder of the Snake would be waiting.

The sun began to sink deeper and deeper into the trees casting a shroud of darkness over the aftermath of this breathtaking battle between man and nature. The air grew cold and the wanton sobbing gradually started to cease as the women, one-by-one, passed out from sheer desire at the magnificent sight before them. Suddenly, Rusty became aware of the changes occuring around him and of the rapidly approaching gig. In one swift motion he grabbed what remained of the creature before him, tearing its legs from its carcass, and began to bound furiously towards the city.

Meanwhile at the gig... Blake Rock paced the room impatiently. The Snake were due onstage in ten minutes and Rusty was nowhere to be found. Although such arrogant behaviour would have normally impressed Blake, his agitation was compounded by the fact that, between the usual pre-show rituals of bathing in an enemy's blood and intimidating journalists, it had been almost twelve minutes since he had last dominated the body cavities of a human female. It was the toughest decision they would ever have to make, but the band had no choice but to start the gig without their 'engine'!

Maxx Dikkens trepidly picked up his axe (note: this is not a metaphor. Recently, Maxx obtained an old Medieval battleaxe and, upon attaching strands of barbed wire, invented what is, arguably, the most dangerous guitar known to man) and began to plough through the opening riff of 'The Dominion Rod'. Blake Rock and Donger Banks looked at each other. They knew exactly what to do and when to do it but without the accompanying wardrums of Rusty Foxx it would never be the same.

The second round of the riff approached. This was it, with or without Rusty it was time to rock! Then it happened...

Just as Donger Banks raised his arm in anticipation of his opening attack he heard a sound behind him. Turning his head, he was just in time to see the awe-inspiring vision of Rusty Foxx hurdling fearlessly through the solid concrete of the stage wall. Dust rose and broken bricks tumbled as this Thor-like figure raised the semi-eroded legs of his most recent adversary only to bring them crashing down with startling force upon his cymbals and upon the hearts of a stunned audience.

Gasps echoed as, high above, Odin was rattled from a deep slumber. Tears welled in his sunken eyes. He had begun to doubt that man would ever again find the true definition of masculinity that was his birthright. He rose from his throne and, opening his mouth, declared in a booming voice that this sage was to be forever gifted with that which, since the dawn of time, has been the one true sign of uninhibited machismo. That which lesser men have, on occassions innumerous, tried pathetically to emulate!

With that, Rusty's face began to tingle as ropes of thick wire pierced through his skin. Men and women alike fainted. A surge of energy shorted out electrical appliances all over the country yet some invisible force prevented it from effecting the band's equipment. F

Rusty Foxx (aka 'The Engine Room'):

Legend has it that Rusty once impregnated 15 women simultaneously before cannibalising his own unborn children in a ferocious act of oral sex. When asked by a journalist if this was true, he simply replied "the Orb of Raiden glows deep within your soul". Before the befuddled journalist had the chance to ask mr. Foxx to clarify, she suffered a severe (and, to this day, inexplicable) brain aneurism. While doctors have not been able to find a satisfactory direct cause for this, they have ascertained that it was caused by a sudden and unbearable spike in sexual energy!


Maximus "Maxx" Dikkens:

Famously voted 'The Celebrity least likely to cuddle after sex' by the readers of FHM magazine, Maxx Dikkens has created a name for himself amongst the pantheon of the music world by playing a guitar carved from the bones of his fallen enemies. Whilst arrogantly striding the halls of Valhalla, Maxx has often been known to peer with an almost derisive scowl at the mere mortals below as they pathetically attempt to satisfy their lovers, displaying a lack of prowess and virility that he has described as "laughable, feeble and amusingly obsequious". Little matter, their "significant others" are but insects waiting to be crushed under the wheels of mr. Dikkens' chariot!


Blake Rock III:

Little is known about Blake Rock and he likes to keep it that way. While it's claimed by some biographers that he is none other than the illegitimate son of Seth himself and an unknown peasant woman, this is generally believed to be nothing more than an archaic methaphorical description that has found itself a niche in the realm of popular myth. It cannot be disputed, however, that certain recent historical and archaeological discoveries confound any attempts to explain the existance of this fascinating character within the confines usually applied to the average man. It should be further pointed out that, while males have generally found it next to impossible to track Blake down in order to question him regarding the above, the few females who have returned from his hermetic abode have, as yet, been unable to submit to interrogation. Experts have attributed this to an inexplicable and uncontrolable schoolgirl-like giggling.


Donger Banks:

Until recently, Donger Banks was your average, everyday, indie music-loving young adult. He attended his classes on a regular basis and it was generally thought by his peers and elders that he had a bright future ahead. Following a chance meeting with Rusty Foxx and Maxx Dikkens, however, Donger seemed to change drastically. Friends and family have been unable to explain this and have said that it seemed to happen almost overnight. These days mr. Banks divides his time between hunting boar with his bare hands, belittling lesser men for his own amusement and seducing women who have become unsatisfied with their inferior lovers.