Back in the days of the ancient forests of South America, when humans were pigmies, tiger’s lived in huts and the streams that meandered through the jungles were crystal blue as mud was yet to be discovered, there lived many Sloths, some of them mighty and wise, big and ferocious like a fighter yet tender and gentle like a child. Back then before the Spanish invasion that saw the jungles be robbed of all it’s Flamenco, Sloth’s ruled the roost, hanging from trees, swaying the breeze, they had no need for knees and the jungle was theirs to do what they pleased. It was indeed a happy time for the race of Sloth’s that have since suffered at the hands of Americanisation.
The most prominent member of the Sloth’s was Three-Toed Troy. Troy was a Sloth of many years, a Sloth of particular interest and one, that for all the species’ traits as lazy, was a Sloth of particular activity and excitement. For whilst never in a position to be a leader of Sloth’s or indeed to sit within their council, Troy was always consulted in any tribal meetings as Troy contained on his person more than a healthy coat of fur. For what made Troy different, what made him special and what made Troy unique was that his coat was inhabited with pixies rather than bugs.
Troy had been born with a birth defect that meant that his toes didn’t appear on his hands until he was at least 10 months old, 9 months later than a normal Sloth’s growth. The effect of this shouldn’t have been to disastrous had it not been for Troy’s fall from his Mother’s breast. One windy day Troy lost his grip and fell to the ground, not from enough of a height to cause injury but the problem was that he had landed into a patch of magic mushrooms, so magic that all living creatures kept away. Troy, in shock, rolled around in the patch screaming for his mother whom rushed to the aid of her young son. However, when she had climbed down the tree Troy had been there for 2 days already and had got so hungry that he had no other option than to eat the mushrooms that lay sparkling around his crash-site. To her horror, Troy’s mother found Troy rolling around giggling, wide-eyed and at least 9% more alert than normal child Sloth’s! Troy was buzzing with excitement and uncontrollably talking about days of yonder. It was days later when Troy’s mum had returned the two of them to the tree that she did realise that not only had the mushroom affects appeared to be permanent but also that magic pixies had made their home in Troy’s fur!!!
Years passed with Troy always wondering why all the other Sloth’s were so different to him. Why did they not want to play ‘catch the coconut’ or ‘let’s all dress like monkeys and steal their banana’s’ with him? Why was he so excited by the vibrancy of the jungle, so lifted by the rhythm of the life that teamed in this vast eco-system when all the other Sloth’s were content to simply ‘chill’ the whole time. Years passed without answer’s, all the whilst Troy realising his uniqueness and then one day Troy proved his worth, for one day guess who came to town? You’re right – Bandy-Joe, the Elvis-Incarnate Smoking Moose.