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After completing the What We Do project, the PRiDE decided to take a much-needed break from the recording lark, and trudged off on their annual walkabout. The Bunker once more became a very quiet place.

Not that the Bollockbrains were completely inactive - there was the usual amount of cleaning-up after a project. Just not as lively as they would’ve been had the PRiDE been around - whinging about the price of bananas, and expecting all the background stuff to go as smooth as a ballrace, while they got down to the serious palaver. More of a quiet snoozy time than anything else.

Things changed, however, one sunny afternoon, when the doorbell rang.

‘Are you expecting any dodgy DVDs?’ Zblotnik asked Knobby. ‘I’ve told you about having them delivered here. Get em sent to your mam’s - see what she thinks about all that twisted stuff you rot your brain with.’

‘Aw, shut up, you miserable old git,’ said Knobby.

‘Fudd give me strength’ muttered the Reindeer, who did the sensible thing and went to see who it was.

Yet when he opened the door, there was nobody there. Just a handful of bulging plastic-bags on the step.

‘If it’s the god squad,’ said Zed. ‘tell them we’re OK for bog-paper.’

‘Interesting,’ said Frank, who’d come to see what was keeping the Reindeer unusually quiet.

‘Suppose we’d better have a look-see’ said the Reindeer, opening one of the bags.

Cans of Special Brew.

‘Shit, you know what this means?’ said Frank.

But before the Reindeer could have an opinion never mind voice it, a potted geranium came flying over the hedge, missed him by a whisker, and bounced across the hallway.


‘Bastards!’ said Zeddy. ‘I’ve just cleaned that carpet and all.’

The culprits were none other than Knobby’s old mates Dickie and the Daidoes, who’d worked with the lad on the undiscovered and coverup projects as the Nudgers.

‘Talk about faces like slapped arses. If misery was money, you lot’d be millionaires. Get the chocky bickies out, Zeddy-boy, let’s see if we can get some life into this morgue.’

And so what started out as a quiet relaxing afternoon shot off at an angle into a raucous booze-up.

The Daidoes had brought their instruments with them, and before long, the Bunker was pulsing with the beat of old-school disco.

Inbetween PRiDE projects, Knobby had been working on basic tracks for a new project, and while the Daidoes were taking a break, he played a couple of them.

‘This is sick shit,’ said Dickie.

‘Just ideas,’ said Knobby. ‘Still work to be done.’

‘Why don’t you get this lot to help?’ said the Reindeer. ‘I’m sure they’d be more than happy to chip in.’

‘Too right we would! Talking about chips...’

And so began a series of sessions, with Dickie and the Daidoes helping Knobby put the finishing touches to the tracks for his new project.

Most of the sessions took place on fairly warm days, when all Zblotnik seemed to be intent on doing, besides moan about the amount of Special Brew being drunk, was whinge about how hot it was. With this in mind, Knobby decided to call his new project Mafted.

All tracks written, arranged and played by the Knobster, with the assistance of Dickie and the Daidoes.

Recorded, engineered and mixed at the Bollockbrain Bunker by The Knobster.

Produced by Mr Reindeer.

Artwork: Frank Blunt.

℗ 2015 Bollockbrain Productions. Some rights reserved.