Bruce "the Schollard" Courtney is the thrumming guitar legend behind the TBT's unprecedented success. With his searing riffs and soulful ballads, it's a wonder that he hasn't yet been signed to any major labels...like Campbell's Soup. Anyway, it wasn't always cookies and caramels for Brucey Bruce. In fact, it is only through the sheerest of coincidences that Bruce is even alive today. Who would have thought after his bizarre brush with death all those years ago that Courtney could have ever reached the demigod status by which he is characterized today? It seems like just last week that I was telling this story to my grandchildren...

'Twas the summer of '69 and a young, ponytailed Trevor Macomber was fresh off an exhilarating Woodstock performance. He was just making his way past the throngs of naked, mud-covered coeds screaming his name and begging to have his baby when it hit him: a wirerimmed wonderbra of the most obese woman in New York. The proverbial boulder-holder struck Trevor upside his left temple and left him lying facedown in front of the Jiffy Johns, bleeding and quite unconscious. A terrible silence fell over the arena as the in-house medical staff rushed to Macomber's side and immediately began smoking up. The delectable aroma of cannabis sativa eventually brought our hero back to his senses, and after taking an enormous hit off the proferred joint he proceded to choke out a sincere and heartfelt thanks to his fans and marijuana in general.

It wasn't long after the incident that Trevor began to wonder about his mysterious bra-flinger. He had no malicious intentions or thoughts of vengeance however; rather, Trevor found himself strangely drawn to this excessively gluttonous piece of womanly flesh. So he began a 13 year, Cinderella-esque quest to find the owner of this magnificently upholstered piece of supportive undergarmentry. He combed the entire state of New York and eventually ended up traversing the entire country and finally the world. Macomber circumnavigated the globe six times in search of this woman, but eventually gave up hopes of ever finding her. He moved back to his quiet little hometown and settled down to live the rest of his life in peace, albeit always with this constant nagging in the back of his mind. Things didn't go exactly as planned however.

A few short months after purchasing his dream home, new neighbors moved in next door. After giving them a couple of weeks to get unpacked and settle in, Trevor went over to introduce himself and offer a homecooked lima bean and toothpaste casserole as a sort of housewarming present. He knocked on the front door and was soon greeted by a young woman in her midtwenties. She was wearing a flourescent yellow muumuu with a pair of rainbow suspenders and crotch high, tourquoise Go-Go boots. The ID tag on her suspenders revealed that she went by the name Rhonda and that she worked at Big Maude's discount clothing outlet. Trevor introduced himself and was immediately invited in to stay for dinner. As he walked into the living room a framed picture next to the cockatiel cage caught his attention. He turned to it and stopped cold in his tracks, the casserole dish shattering on the floor as his his jaw dropped to his navel region and his palms began sweating profusely. There in the picture was the woman for whom he had been searching! Hearing the commotion, Rhonda rushed in from the kitchen to see what the problem was.

"Who is that woman?" Trevor asked.

The question turned Rhonda's cheeks a violent shade of magenta, but just as she was about to answer, her rail thin husband came down the stairs to inquire about the fuss. Trevor thought he looked familiar, but couldn't quite place his finger on where they had met before. Rhonda explained to her husband that Trevor had been inquiring about the picture on the mantle. He too blushed upon hearing the question, but resolutely squared his shoulders and explained who the woman was.

"I wasn't always like this," he told Macomber. "In fact, many years ago I had what you might call a bit of a weight problem. Okay, let's be honest; I was blubbery ball of gigantic. I was also still a woman at that time. But as much as I hated leaving the house, when I heard that there was going to be a concert in Woodstock I knew I just had to go. It was I who hit you with my brassiere that day, and later that afternoon when I realized that I had almost killed a man because of my enormous bosom I had a massive heart attack and nearly died. The doctor said I needed a change in lifestyle if I wanted to live past 50, so I decided to go all the way and not only start eating right, but become a man as well. As it turns out, almost killing you was the best thing that could have happened to me. I'm literally a new man and loving every minute of my life!"

This stunning revelation left Trevor...well, stunned. But as he slowly began to integrate what he had just learned, it occurred to him that he didn't even know the name of the wo/man whose life he had changed.

"What's your name, by the way?" asked Trevor.

Rhonda's husband replied, "Well, once upon a time I was known as Shirley Schollard Courtney, but now, you can just call me Bruce."

"Bruce," said Trevor, "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship." And so it was. So it was...

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