Deciphering GrundleGarth Berklevish’s past is quite an ordeal- the man himself recalls only hazy still frames, imprinted on his mind like a faded Polaroid. For you see, immortality and amnesia have made him quite an enigma of nature. The lonely hours before his discovery is where the legend of GrundleGarth begins.

At the end of a fairly profitable night, King Bong received a request from a dedicated and wholly addicted customer. Desperate for a fix, his client begged the King to drop off his heroin to an undisclosed location, promising to pay double if the King was to hurry. Bong, rarely one to home deliver his product, decided to oblige to this man’s wishes for he was never fool enough to deny such a profitable transaction. Arriving at a horrid, syringe laden beach which wreaked of something like despair and piss, The King searched for his loyal customer, yet he was nowhere to be found. Something was amiss.

Determined to acquire some kind of reimbursement for this waste of time, the King wandered the desolate beach, searching with no avail. After nearly giving up his search, he began to see a dark figure materialize from seemingly nowhere.. Surely this approaching silhouette was the only other living being within miles of their location; the cries of the seagulls and even the raucous crickets had been absent ever since King Bong’s arrival. He was not surprised- he seemed to have that effect on the world’s general populace.

As this dark silhouette approached, King Bong’s keen eyes began registering a face of which he had never seen or could even imagine. It looked somewhat like the missing link between Bong’s ancestors and the current human population. Its scowling face was covered in dripping red warpaint and ancient, tattered clothing. However haggard and distraught this “man” may have looked, the creature stood his ground and approached the King. After discovering that this fearsome looking creature knew about as much about himself as Bong did, the King asked for his name. Muttering almost inaudibly, this creature absently muttered, “GrundleGarth… Grundlegarth Berklevish.” With this, he collapsed into deep unconsciousness.

Words cannot express the confusion and surprise GrundleGarth experienced upon his awakening; roomed in the medical bay of Alin’s ship, Frank, Alin, and King Bong had gathered in the newcomers room for inspection and assesment. At the sight of Alin’s face and gigantic stature, GrundleGarth lashed out at the enhanced Pu-C and it subsequently took the combined efforts of both Frank Wolfman and King Bong to restrain this furious and mysterious stranger. After calming sufficiently to think of his situation, he began to speak of what little he actually knew..

In the years following his awakening, GrundleGarth has become somewhat of a protege to King Bong. He continues to instruct Berklevish not only in the ways of the guitar, but also the lessons needed to survive in the urban jungle.

Coming upon Alin’s dwelling, Frank heard shrieks of sheer terror emanating from the address given in the newspaper. Frank had not known why his eye had caught the ad, still did not know why he was there or what he had even expected, but the screams from inside the mansion struck a note with Wolfman. “My kind of people,” he muttered under his breath.

Just before reaching the handle to the gigantic front entrance, the door burst open and the source of the shrieks had been discovered. The man that now stood eye to eye with Frank was massive; compared to the doorway which was seemingly built to house a Tyrannosaurus Rex, this hulk of a human stood nearly halfway to the top. Covered in blood and what looked chunks of his own flesh, the man took one look at Frank and fled for the remainder of his life. What frank had not seen due to the massive obstruction of what he now deemed the human hulk was now eyeing him from the other side of the long hall. It appeared to be a gorilla of some sort, but he could smell that this one was different. For one, it was wearing clothing. Wolfman reasoned that this was common for owners of such exotic animals. Frank still could not pinpoint what was different about this particular specimen; that is, until it began to talk.

The simian demanded to know why Wolfman was here. For once, Frank Wolfman, Attorney at Law, decided to tell the truth." I… I don’t know." Observing from above, Alin stepped onto the floor where Wolfman and Bong were now sizing one another up. He knew that if anyone could handle his son, it would be Frank Wolfman, Attorney at Law.

Frank brought Bong to the Wolfmans favorite and only nighttime hangout, the ghetto. Frank had discovered that this was the only place he could go to without having the cops called on him. He hoped that his new companion wouldn’t cause his luck to change. Lost in his own thoughts, Frank failed to notice King Crimson, the local drug runner and pimp. In the hierarchy of criminal masterminds, King Crimson was two notches below the common jay walker. What he lacked in intelligence, however, he more than made up for in sheer brutality. Frank had never made a deliberate attempt to avoid King Crimson and by doing so had become a prime target on the criminal’s hit list. The King, however, knew of the danger and futility in trying to kill the Wolfman. Yet his companion, which looked like a man wearing some type of mask, could be hurt and would be killed. After sending his legions of men after the duo, the dealer realized the second man was really no man at all; he was a drug dealin’ ape. After finishing with the King’s men, Wolfman and Bong turned toward the boss himself. Bong pounced upon the unfortunately dim witted drug dealer and made his first kill. Seizing the man’s crown, coat, and title, the simian dubbed himself the new ruler of the streets. Thus, King Bong was born.

Frank Wolfman had battled the chorus of voices rattling his head like a tempest since he was a child. These voices, which called to him in a single, unified speech, crawled inside the shadow of his psyche, poisoning the very fabric of his consciousness and soul. He knew all too well what his affliction transformed him into; he was, after all, a member of the Wolfman Klan. His family before him had also suffered from the same sickness; that is until the last branch of their sanity broke from the weight of their own fear. He was the last; he was the only remaining Wolfman.

Frank, however, possessed a certain personality trait not found in others of the Wolfman family. This trait had led men to impossible highs and unspeakable lows- he possessed the same trait which enabled mankind to reach the stars and observe the atoms; the same trait which leads man to continually kill his own kind without remorse. He had a craving for power, and this craving quickly became a hunger so great it burned in the deepest part of his being. Wolfman was, by day, the most aggressive lawyer to ever pass the Bar exam. His days in court began like many of his colleagues; that is until he went in for the metaphorical kill. Nothing satiated Franks hunger more fully and intensely than when he looked into the defendants eyes, knowing full well that he decided this mans fate who sat in the seat facing his own. This was, in fact, the very reason he had ever made it through law school- he had no desire to champion the good in a failing justice system or to help those in need. His command over law, however, simultaneously delighted and infuriated him- he loved wielding the power of the courts as his own, and yet he wanted, no, needed, more power than what this legal system could provide. The monotony of routine soon settled in; condemning the guilty was far too easy. The culprits always left some kind of evidence or link back that lied either in an evidence bag or the perpetrators story. The innocent, however, posed a challenge; if Frank was aware of a defendant’s innocence, he considered it a trial against their destiny. If he could condemn the innocent with the ease and speed he fated the guilty, he had, in his mind, achieved ultimate power; the power over ka. However, as the voices grew once more (there must be a hundred or a thousand now) he turned into what he and his family had all feared the most. He found his new form, of course, to be a terrifying burden; it had, after all, driven his entire family insane and suicidal until only he remained. However, he found the newfound power as a beggar finds a donation. Despite all his cunning and intelligence, Frank had yet to find a way to control his murderous impulses; the voice that called for the kill in the courts now wanted blood on the streets. Frank soon learned that no one could defeat fate (especially not in the courts), and while collecting his “trophies” (which, in essence, were newspaper clippings of reported sightings of his alternate form) his eye caught an ad in the Help Wanted section. It called for help controlling a strange beast (the ad was not specific) and called for both physical and mental strength, persistence, and an open mind.

In order to create an ideal being with superior intelligence and untouched savagery, Alin began studying mankind’s evolutionary roots. Unsatisfied with his numerous attempts on human DNA, Alin looked at our closest relatives, the Great Apes. As Alin watched two male gorillas vying for the title of alpha male, Alin knew he had found his next and perhaps greatest test subject. After imbuing a gorilla’s fetus with his own DNA, Alin watched and waited as his test subject grew into what we now know as King Bong.

Naming his creation Bong (which was a traditional name for inhabitants of planet Pu-C) Alin treated his new creation as if it were his own son; he had not, however, forgotten his primary objective in making the half Pu-C/ half simian hybrid. Alin laid dozens of odd and bizarre instruments of his own creation on the floor of his ship, waiting for Bong to crawl to the one he preferred. Bong had, however, snuck into Alin’s private quarters and saw the oddly shaped wood carving with six strings attached from the broad beginning to the narrow end. Reaching for Alin’s guitar, Bong heard an un godly scream emanate from his adopted father. Unmoved by Alin’s raging complaints, Bong chose his creators weapon of choice.

Due to his Pu-C DNA and natural cunning, Bong quickly mastered the guitar with ease. However, he soon grew bored of the sterile halls of Alins ship and demanded to see Earth. Alin first denied this request, but eventually gave into his sons incessant demands and brought Bong to Earth. Unshakable in his resolve, he demanded to live here and to take up permanent residence among its inhabitants. Increasingly growing fearful of his creation, Alin decided to oblige. Life wasnt easy for a half Pu-C/ half simian gorilla; when Bong approached the general populace, women ran in fear and their men took up arms. Bong’s anger grew as he continually failed to find any friendship amongst the humans and Alin’s terror rose as Bong’s tantrums raged inside his ship. Fearing for his son’s mental being and his own personal safety, Alin had no one to turn to. He had, after all, been exiled from his own civilization. So he turned to the place where humans go when there is no one left to help or to turn to- the Help Wanted section of the newspaper.

For Alin, Planet Pu- C had always been home. Millions upon millions of years of evolution had led his race to unequaled genius, thus the Pu-Ci’s knowledge of technology and science was unparalleled. However, the energy their ever expanding minds required shriveled their physical bodies to nearly useless proportions; the typical Pu-C stood only three and a half feet tall and weighed just 50 pounds. Alin sought to use his incredible array of knowledge to solve his species only true weakness, therefore modifying his hyper evolved race into exceedingly powerful gods.

Alin knew the consequences of experimentation on his own kind- he was aware of the ethical and moral ideals that the Pu- Cii’s held in such high regard, yet was blinded by the prospect of success and immortality. Determined to free his planets populace of what he deemed its only disfigurement, Alin’s malevolent testing began. He placed his subjects in large glass globes, noting the affects of his experimentation on each subject. Some looked intact and unchanged; the majority, however, became abominations. These creatures, riddled with sores, gigantic appendages, and in one case two heads, cried out to Alin to end their suffering. Immortality also seemed to deafen him.

Finding the exact changes that needed to be made to the DNA of the Pu-Ci’s , Alin made himself his next test subject. The growth was excruciating- bone, muscle, and other tissue rapidly expanded within his feeble shell. His mind screamed as bone ripped through what was once his skin. His mind on fire and screaming in agony , he lay on the floor unable to make a sound.

Recovering from his metamorphosis, Alin now stood nearly six feet tall and weighed close to 300 pounds. His success, however, was short lived when word got out about the means he used to reach this bulk. Unable to execute him, the Pu Cii’s exiled Alin from his home world. Traveling the galaxies in search of purpose, Alin met an untold amount of civilizations; all had, however, reminded him of the Pu- Ciis by which he was shunned.

Alin had no intention of reaching Earth. He had observed mankind and deemed them primitive beings unworthy of his attention. However, what they lacked in logic, they more than made up for in creativity. Throughout his entire lifetime, Alin had never met a single civilization who created a piece of art; there was after all, no tangible point in doing so and therefore completely illogical, yet…

He connected with it. Racked with anger and the occasional twinge of regret, Alin identified with the human condition. However, he could not live much longer with so much pent up emotion. His once impeccable body began to deteriorate with no apparent cause; no physical malady could be found. Alin found himself out of breath merely from walking from room to room, then unable to stand for an extended time; soon he would not be able to walk. Alin lay dying in Earth’s orbit and faced the prospect of death. This prospect humbled Alin; so much so, that he lost the mindset that human creativity was useless and gained a newfound respect for mankind. He decided to replicate a piece of his favorite art form, which was music.

As soon as Alin had picked up what humans called a “guitar” he immediately felt a surge of life run through his withered green hands. He felt each note in his body and in his very consciousness and realized his body had begun to heal itself. Apparently, Alin’s mental capabilities were so strong that, when in a state of emotional turmoil, his body simply deteriorated. Music provided an outlet for his troubled psyche and, like a drug addict, he needed more. Alin realized the more anger and passion he put into his music, the less he felt in his conscious. With this revelation, Alin began work on creating something with enough intelligence and creativity to help Alin on his endeavor, yet primal enough to tap into the buried trench of human strife that lies within each man.