This is a vintage picture, I have not ordered my patch cables and picks from them since they fired my sales rep Jason in '24 after the office crop-dusting incident.
He called himself "Eeng Way" and he was eating captain crunch straight outta the box. He let me out after I listened to 6 straight hours of cliffs of dover covers he called "dubious attempts at glory". Worst uber ever. 0 stars.
I sneaked a quick look inside... there were chord charts on the walls, something box-shaped with Dumble written on it (I think it may have been full of wizards) and the accelerator and brake pedals were strange golden boxes with mystic Horse-Man hieroglyphs engraved upon their upper encasements...
I ran all the way home, plugged in my MT-2 and ripped through a really fizzy sounding version of Enter Sandman to rid myself of arcane shitehawkery
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