Chip Wood and Paul “Potato” Baker

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Chip and Paul look a lot like a piece of wood and a baked potato and they laugh about it long and hard when they’re toting totes and jamming jazz at three in the morning. “Man, Potato, You look so baked!” says Chip and bebops his piece of pipe over to Paul. “Hey man,” says Potato, “Well that’s because I feel so baked that I’m going to explode my insides out all over the insides of your overcooked oven, man!”.

So, yeah, they laugh and play jazz and it’s not like no-one over mentioned this to them before. They know how to play and they know how to chop and bake so the rhythm flows and Chip can lay down the beat and everything’s groovy at four in the morning.

But, hey, because Chip’s gotta be back on duty at the Fry Up and Paul’s doing time down at the bake house and scraping by on minimum wage in the big, bad world where there’s no imagination and people can’t even suppose to themselves that a wood chip called Chip and a baked Paul Potato can’t play jazz and hang out some time somewhere, not even just even here and between jazz lovers.

Ain’t that so?



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