In space, no one can hear you scream, because a piece of duct tape fell of my Cyclone.

A cold, hard September day, dogs barking across the lake, Rocky Raccoon was heard to say "That other Rocky, he's a fake."
In the tavern, the patrons paused, softly emptied their lagers and waited for what's in store.
Here is Rocky's embittered saga;
"Paul wrote the lyrics first, then the chords. Royalties had been settled, it was to be in all the stores. Fame, it seemed, all but nestled in my lap.
I even met John, but only once, and briefly. Still....there I was, in a song, all about me. Well, chiefly.
I came back home, not two miles from here, told my folks. Even the mayor of the town bought my beer.
Well, you remember. What a day, oh what a day, what excitement when we learned Rocky Raccoon was to be on the double-white album.
This town fell into a swoon of self-congratulation. But then....you know. Do I have to go on?

That false Rocky had pinched my spot!