Ouija Board Interview #3: Lizard King vs Marimba King

Excerpt from “Séance in 5/4 Time,” found in the scorched spiral notebook of Declan Varn, Music Occult Correspondent

“Spirits of rhythm and reason,” I muttered, hunched over the Ouija board I bought for $5 from a chain-smoking woman in a Black Sabbath T-shirt who may or may not have been Romanian royalty.

It had been glitching more since I spilled a flaming absinthe cocktail on it during an ill-advised Doors listening party.

Tonight’s goal was clear: summon the ghost of Jim Morrison. No distractions. No Dylan Thomas. No ghost of Nico just moaning in Icelandic again.

I was locked in. My questions were ready:

1. Were you really a shaman?

2. Was Soft Parade a cry for help?

3. Where are your leather pants buried?

The incense curled into Fibonacci spirals. The planchette jittered like a dive-bar pager during happy hour.

Then — shimmer. Blur. The air split open. A figure took shape: tousled mane, bare chest, spectral pout.

“Jim?” I whispered.

He opened his mouth—

BAM! POP! FIZZ!
The feed glitches.
VHS jumps.
Static pops.

And there they are.
Reg Kehoe and His Marimba Queens.
Eight women in black sequened ballroom gowns hammering syncopation with the fixed smiles of Midwestern cultists. Center stage: the bassist. Pogoing like a man possessed. Eyes feral. Spine elastic. Playing as if the fate of the Republic depended on slap bass.

This wasn’t an error.
This was the signal.
The Lizard King had been outshredded.

I couldn’t move. The marimbas thundered like tropical hail. The Queens grinned wider. The bassist bent space and time.

Jim was gone.
The bassist remained.
The Queens kept playing.
I scrawled in the margin:

“Rock is dead. Xylophone is eternal.”

[Editors Note:] Declan is currently undergoing psychiatric evaluation at Ben Taub Hospital. We wish him a speedy recovery and hope he will be back writing soon.