MARKO - Amnesic Big String Pluker

If it be true that initiative kums to those that wait, then i assert that good fortune kums to those who wander... For wun twi-lited evening, whilst wandering along not so unsenic roots in our Meteor '68, we stumbeld thereupon a gent with instrument in element-reddened hand thumbing away. "Harko, Jimmy" we kalled to this foot wandering kompanyun of the nite, "Wut path for u lies ahed?"

With eyes kast downward down, he stifled a tear and replied with shaky voice... "How praytell, wood mite I noe wut lies ahed, if i noe not wut is left behind?" We nodded agreeable konkluding thus that this minstrel by chance had been taking recent blows to the gulliver and wuz sumwut forgetful. "Noest thy name?", we inkwired inkwiringly. "Nay", said he. "But, the instrument I karry is inskribed with: 'M.A.R.K.O.'". Sidelong glances frum my droogs konfurmed my feers that 'M.A.R.K.O. Inkorporated' iz merely a faktory maker of big string plukables. Our weery traveler had need thus for immediate idle assistance. "Rekall u how to play thy instrument, laddy Marko?". "Nay", he again replied. "Embark then, Jim Marko... jernee with us." And... so now he duz.
Peek laddy Marko now, or procession back to the: Koverpage