You see, the funk is a living creature. It's about the size of a medicine ball, but covered in teats. Came from another planet. Landed on Bootsy Collins' house. Back then Bootsy was just a simple farmer, but he took one look at all those moldy titties and lost his mind. He began to milk the funk. Made himself a funk shake. He began to feel fizzy inside. He found he could see around corners. Suddenly, he passed out. But when he came to, baby, he was slappin' a bass guitar fast and loose like some sort of delirious funky priest. Two months later, he was world famous with his band Parliament, and everybody wanted a piece of the funk. Rick Wakeman, even the Bee Gees. One day, Parliament were traveling on the mothership, foolin' around with the funk, when George Clinton, kicked the funk clean overboard. And that was July the 2nd, 1979, "the day the funk died"... Two weeks later, I found the funk, in bed with a conga eel. At first I thought it was a sea anenome, but under closer inspection I realized it was a funky ball of tits from outer space. I offered to take him back to Parliament, but he said he was done with dat shit, and that they never listened to him anyway, and were only interested in his funky bra juice.

I warned you!