Soul Box
By Scott Wilson
Word Count: 291
The ecstatic crowd roared in awe of the mastery of guitar work performed by Angus Blues. Metal Light closed the show on the third encore, giving the punters an extra forty minutes of concert at no extra cost. This was the last night of a sell out worldwide tour, and the best night of them all. Nothing like starting, and then finishing a world tour in your hometown.
Angus knelt down and unplugged his latest musical effects pedal, the Soul Box. It was one of a kind; no roadie ever touched it. Collecting a soul was hard work and Angus did not want to lose two years hard work from any knucklehead roadie dropping his creation. You had to capture it at the right point for it to give the desired effect in the soul box. To date Angus had saved forty-nine souls, all at different emotional stages at the moment of extraction from their body.
Before Angus created the Soul Box, he was the same as any struggling teenage guitar player. Now, he surpassed all of his heroes; The Edge, Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, Eddie Van Halen and Yngwie Malmsteen. Each soul made his guitar playing sound better, more soulful. It did not matter what Angus picked, strummed or fingered on the guitar fret board, it only mattered what he felt and how many souls connected to produce the best riff Angus could visualize.
No more worrying about guitar practice, expensive Gibson, Fender or Ibanez axes, or Marshal Amps. His playing sounded great as long as whatever he was playing was hooked up to his invention.
All Angus had to worry about now how many souls he could fit in his Soul Box.
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