It was a quiet, cloudless night, as I walked, in a preternatural daze through a whispering wood, as the wind gently caressed my bare ankles and spoke softly in my ear as if of an impeding fate i could neither predict nor acknowledge. As I walked i forgot all worldly trappings and became cacooned in the womb of nature. And as this somnambulant journey continued a warm, fuzzy glow flickered then gradually grew in front of me, until all was incandescent and my eyes next to useless. As the brightness faded i became aware of a figure in front of me, and though he seemed of average height and build it became obvious to me, though not how it was possible, that he was in fact as big as the universe itself, condensed into humanoid form in front of me. Softly his voice sang out in deep, dulcet tones and it was as if the sky was collapsing, the earth caving beneath me. My body became weightless. Floating. In an everlasting orgasmic symphony of colour and sound. I looked upon the face of the celestial being and to my endless wonder i recognised the godly visage. But before i could reach out and touch the face of salvation the light receded, the music dampened to a faint whimper and all that was left was a name written upon the wind - Hasselhoff. It was then that i realised i would never know true bliss again. I can remember less and less of that night as time wends its meaningless way. I cannot recall the words or notes of those epiphanic songs, although i do seem to recall Hot Shot City was pretty fricking rocking.