The curse of Robert Plant rubber shoes

The story says that during the celebration of his 17th birthday, Robert Plant received an unexpected parcel.
No-one in the house knew where that strange box came from, and Robert's mother, a nice and slightly fat Welsh housewife, said that "the box just appeared on the patio".



The box stayed there, on a chair, and they ate banoffi pie and lemon puff, and everybody drank generously, especially Robert Plant's dad, who was a professional alcoholist.
When the party was over and everybody left, Robert opened the box

inside, there was a pair of rubber shoes (this is how the English called the sneakers back then).... and the rubber shoes came with an extremely enigmatyc note:

"If you wear these shoes, you will sing the Blues alright, and you will be such a star and shit... but never, ever lose teh shohes (sic), or you'll lose more than you've ever had..."

The note was written on toilet paper, but not signed.

Intrigued, although quite tired, Roberto went to bed, taking carefully the box with the rubber shoes to his room, and leaving it in the wardrobe, under lock and key.

In the morning, after an agytated nyght full of ridiculous nightmares, tossing, turning, and lots of bedsheet farts, Robert finally decided to wear the rubber shoes, incredulous about all this bullshit.

Travelling in the school bus something made Robert stand up and sing, impersonating Elvis in "Heartbreak Hotel". Robert didn't know what the fuck he was doing, or how, but there was a strange force coming from his feet, a force that made him sing with a passion, a strange magnetic force that was coming... from those diabolical rubber shoes, which made him sing as he never thought he could sing, moving his hips with libido, in front of the standing ovation of the passengers.


The next day, totally self-confident and out of control, Roberto Planta performed a complete Elvis live set a capella at the college, until he was reduced by force, thanks to the officious intervention of the police, and was taken home, where he still couldn't stop singing during all that afternoon, in front of the astonished eyes of his family.

 
Exhausted, Robert finally took the rubber shoes off, falling unconscious on the floor in the act.

Some tyme later Richard Caca, an agent who worked for CBS Angleterre visited Robert, because he heard insistent rumours about a young 'English Elvis', who lived in Cucumberfield -that was the name of the town-:


immediately after hearing the jaw-dropping Elvis impersonation performed by Plant, Caca offered him a leonine contract to record two singles, which would be issued by means of CBS Europa, and so he did, very enthused for this opportunity.

Some tyme later, he was called to sing in a new band, Led Zeppelin.

The group acquired a huge, immediate, almost luciferian success, because of Plant's feline movements on stage and sexy voice to sing the Heavy Metal, and all thanks to those rubber shoes... rubber shoes which controlled his mind and turned him into a mere automaton.

During one show in Coombe, Wales, whilst Robert was totally stoned with naphta, he forgot to bring the rubber shoes with him, and tried to sing anyways, wearing a vulgar pair of boots, but his voice sounded horrible and strange, like Foghorn Leghorn.

The audience (that was very intolerant) started throwing sweet potatoes, magdalenas valencianas, boiled eggs, lettuces, pizza, coins, midgets, bottles of Gini Cola and other delicacies on the stage, even a drunk paisan threw a sofa, which fell apparatusly on guitarist Jimmy Page, who had to be taken in an ambulance to the nearest hospital: the show was cancelled and the audience burned the place.

After this, Roberto Planta never ever forgot his rubber shoes again, and his career with Led Zeppelin was perfect, because he always wore his rubber shoes, live or in studio sessions, taking the shoes off, carefully after every performance, and keeping them into a safe, as if the shoes were a goldmine.


No one but himself knew the portent, the infernal prodigy that these rubber shoes represented, no one... until one day:
too drunk and doped with Poxi-ran during a party, Robert made a fatal mistake: he revealed the secret.

It was enough: a short time later, someone stole the safe with the rubber shoes and Robert Plant committed suicide, cutting his veins with a carrot.


Desperate, guitarist Jimmy Page -who was a magus- needed to go on with Led Zeppelin at any cost, and appealed to his high knowledges in the necromancy and the black arts, violating the tomb, stealing Robert Plant's corpse, and bringing him back to life by means of obscure Voodoo rituals, Cuban Santería and Brazilian Macumba witchery.

 

Now, Robert Plant was alive again, but still dead, because now he was a machinal zombie that belonged to an infernal entity of the demented Afro-Brazilian rite called Candomblé.

Page -who besides wizard was a mediumistic priest who incorporated black spirits- touched zombie Plant with his magic wand, and made him sing well again.

Notwithstanding Plant's appearance changed, suddenly, something very, very strange was noted in his physiognomy all of a sudden... his eyes..?

His eyes, yes... there was something strange in his eyes, something scabrous, like a turbid patina that was not of... this world?








The fans never knew these impious facts (they still don't know it, no one knows it except five people in the world), and even this zombified Robert Plant developed, and still develops his solo career until today, but in fact he's a living dead, an undead walking corpse:
his soul or cerebro is in Hell with Page, who was cloned as well, and is no longer alive.*

*Note: The cloned Jimmy Page can be seen on the photo above, taken in Dec. 2011.

Due to the cellular condition of clones, his body is ageing 900% faster than a normal human, and in a couple of years this Page's duplicate will probably get dissolved, and should be replaced by a new clone: according to a secret conversation I had with his manager (well, the manager of the clone), Jorge Porcel.

Porcel said that Page would be cloned ad infinitum, if necessary, or at least until the year 2332, in a confidential project managed by the NASA at the moment.

The project is filed under: Experiments with destiny (one of the 9 NASA's departments).