Jorch directed Coast to Coast listeners in putting their heads together in a mass collective consciousness experiment, not heeding the ominous words of former C2C host Art Bell of "Never fucking again...never fucking again man I swear to fuck."


After 5 sweat inducing minutes of clenching, chanting and swearing under his breath leading the throngs of nervous nancys, long haul truck drivers and America's infirm, Jorch wipes the sweat from his rough-hewn and unsmooth brow, with a sigh of relief he grumbles out, "Hey, I think it's working...you know...I really think I felt something there!"


In the distance a tremor is felt coming from the high desert, a crack is heard in the firmament, and coyotes howl through the cool night air while the flutes of Cuzco bounce off the canyon walls and if you were to look closely enough squinting into the dusty midnight haze, you'd see a hand crawling up from the soil scratching and inching it's menacing way out of the sand, dragging a bedragled but still somewhat leather and patchouli scented body of the risen corpse of Art Bell...

Shambling and growling out the gasping words..."God Dammit George, what did I fucking tell you, what was the ONE thing I told you never to do you swarthy beige bastard...I'm coming for you Jorch, I'm a coming for you..."