Mavis “The Shredder” Stockdale always wanted to be a renowned guitarist,

one who could take the simplest of ideas laid down by the songwriter

and burn the opposition to the outskirts of Hell

and leave audiences gasping in the wake of a lover letter placed chord

and suffering the beauty of a well plucked string.

Above all, Mavis knew she could duel banjo, guitar, mandolin and violin,

but with sad reflection not the cello as she had seen a God play with perfection

one night in the Cavern one night, her hair flowing red but shimmering with depth