I was a punk rock kid going to a show in Los Angeles over by the oil refineries of Wilmington, a charming little part of LA. We stopped at a 7-11 for moonpies and comic books and when I was getting back in my friend's mom's Volvo station wagon a gigantic murder monkey appeared and got in my face and made it very clear to all of us that we weren't supposed to be there. This is one of my many reasons I stay away from that godforsaken city.