Version 1
Once there was a great storm. The waves gnashed at the land. The lightning crashed into the hills with a violent fervor. A huge fireball coursed across the sky and crashed against the earth’s surface. The violent impact caused a rift to be torn into the landscape. It opened up and the earth’s bowels were revealed to the outside air. From the fiery depths appeared several dark riders on flaming horses. With "WV" burnt into their backs and beer in their hands they swept forth across the land. Their hell-spawned fury left a trail of carnage and devastation in their wake. The gods above sensed a turmoil in the lands. They sought means to fight these hedonistic WV fiends. Thus began an epic battle and the classic tale of good versus evil, the divine against the unholy, all the powers of good against the WV. The battles still rages and the WV is winning. But all is not lost, for the outcome of this great conflict is still forthcoming. All will be decided in Armageddon – the final battle- the last reckoning of the WV.
Version 2
Once upon a time in a place called Tuckerton county there was a terrible prison break. A vile criminal known as the Cock ‘n’ Balls Ranger escaped from jail. He soon met up with the Slut Moth and the Chronic Hen, two of his old accomplices. They began to run amuck, raping, looting, pillaging, and basically terrorizing the local country folk. Sheriff Nelson Pickett and his two deputies, Barnaby Scott and Willaby Jones, led a charge to fight these heinous criminals. They recruited a group who would become known as the "WV." The WV chased down and broke up the gang. Finally, in a classic showdown on top of Mt. Henry Ford, the WV defeated the dreaded Cock ‘n’ Balls Ranger and restored justice to Tuckerton county. The WV still exists today, fighting evil and nastiness everywhere, and more importantly—providing drunkenness to those who so desperately need it.
The Real Story
Several years ago it has been now, since the formation of what came to be known as the WV. After bouncing around a few residences with my mother, we moved into a house in Whispering Valley. I never realized that this simple move would so greatly effect the course of my life and introduce me to the greatest group of friends anywhere.
It started out simply enough, I was skateboarding in the street and I was approached by two other kids. The other is of no importance here, but the latter was Jason Martin. Jason and I, as well as several other guys who we no longer associate with, began to be regular friends. From Middle school onward we began to meet the other neighborhood kids and form sort of a crew. In turn each of us brought in our outside friends, and they brought around their friends, and thus a cycle was kicked into place.
Simple enough, and that was nearly ten years ago, today the group is thriving. The makeup of the crew is defiantly eclectic. That is to put is nicely, some of us are what you might consider deviants, outcasts, or even misfits, oh well that is just opinion—and you know what they say about opinions….
Along the history of the group we have always welcomed newcomers. Unfortunately, we have had to say good bye to some of our friends who got lost along the way. Some to other groups of friends. Some to drug use. Some became real assholes. Some just drifted away….However, we are still around, stronger than ever, and having the time of our lives.
Lets raise one up for the group: Jason, Tim, Geof, Sean, Gene, Todd, Jared, Dana, Nate, Brett, Jenny, Steph, Wadel, Christine, Chad, Sweeney, Jim, Jon, Craig, Ray, Elaine, Ken, Wendy, Stacey, Zack, Cathy, Kelly, Megan, Pat, James, Budosh and anyone else with the courage to be a part of this thing called the WV—I love you guys and thanks for always being there for me throughout all these years. Just remember, wherever you go and whatever you do—However far away this fast-paced life drifts us apart. Carry the pride and the WV in your heart. ‘Cause you always have a friends out there, when you’re with us.
The WV Story of evolution for Rich Pullara
Story and words by Jimmy Haze--1998 and countin’
..The way I see it the world as it so seems these days is the fault of one man and he alone started the feces for what should be called the groundwork of modern society. Well that man was Wilaby Jones. In a place and time in Tuckerton county in the late fifties Willaby was said to walk upon the great Mount Henry Ford and decree at the top of his very lungs "It ain't so there Mills." As this course took effect many people began to laugh old Willaby off as a dumb old goat. So he took it all upon himself and confidided all of his secrets to the great icon known as the chronic hen. Now while the chronic hen may appear as nothing more than a stoned rooster roaming the yard for blunts and oats and shit , old willaby knew him to be a slightly prophet with skills that could bedunk the lot. SO thus he saw the pain and suffering in old Willaby's eyes and they set off on a course to start evolution. Now stay with me here this part gets tricky, up until this point in time, the world had only partially existed, there were only stuck up wenches and pricksters who only roamed earth because they had been blasted out the air lock by some other inhabitiants of other far reaching planets. THIS WAS A MOOT AGE IN TIME MY FRIENDS.! So the Chronic hen, Willaby Jones, and a virginal moth who went crazy later in life and became the slut moth soon there after sent out to redevelop the universe. This was to be known as the "Great Cockn' Balls revolution. Which essentially kicked off the risin' up renaissence and the total rebirth of men and women. Time was flying all was great, however the overlords saw it only fit to punish Willaby for being such an inspirational ranger. They thus released a rapist upon the lands the like of which has never been seen again. It was known as the age of squelching and foolishness. In this ten year time period alone more anuses were blarnched, more besnookered loins were spread, and the whole society was besmirched and heaving copius butt sex. (during this time it was customary not to shake hands but to provide anal oral aphyxsiation upon greeting an old freind). Oh yes this time was bleak and dark for the world. It was 1982, a man named Reagan was president, and anal sex was running rampant in the streets. These were truly the dark ages. Then however came a new light, a group known simply as the WV burst upon the scene and the times were merry and drunken once again and a brown baby boy was held high for all to splendor. SO the scholars (the true scholars anyway) know that although Willaby Jones can be credited for creating the world, the WV is credited for its salvation. Thus spoke HaZE! keep all gorous and taunt and just remember the several wise words passed on from my elders 1. "Never try to bedunk that which cannot be bedunked" 2. "Never squelch on an empty stomach" 3. "Never regraze an already blarnched anal" 4. "Never try and cop a tech gainer before you are old enough to do so legally 5. "Never grow up to become Nelson Pickett