The beast before it began feeding.

When most people think of Mckay Used Books, their thoughts are fond ones. Thoughts of taking one’s unwanted items and exchanging them for a handful of personal treasures. Whether you leave with armfuls of books, some dvds, or a couple of video games you couldn’t afford to buy at retail; generally you leave happier than when you left. However no one ever stops to think where all those hidden gems come from. “I found the collector’s edition of Lamb!” “Who would trade in Bioshock and Fallout 3?!?”

Today I bring you a behind the scenes look into the true nature of the beast called McKay’s.

My first trip to McKay’s was in the Summer of 2009. I was innocent then. I just took in some old text books, a few movies I’d replaced with Collector’s editions, and a couple games I hadn’t played in months. After accumulating over $100 in store credit I left with 6 dvds I’d been looking for forever as well as 4 amazing movie posters. I was on cloud nine. What I didn’t know, however, is that I had walked into a trap. McKay had my scent, and it’s a ruthless hunter.

I think I may have started at the wrong point. Way back in 2004 I graduated high school, and burnt out on the go to school for 40 hours and study for another 30 routine, I went almost immediately into the work force. I found a job working the night shift at Lowe’s. 9p.m. to 6a.m. Monday through Friday. This schedule ran counter to most opportunities to spend my hard earned cash in person. That’s when I joined Columbia House. This was back when you were still rewarded for being a member. Every other week brand new movies were buy one get one free and you earned 2-4 points per dvd. Every 20 was another free movie. Shipping was a low 99 cents per disc and no tax was charged. I had always had a passion for the cinema and with those rates, by dvd collection grew. Quickly my 48 dvd shelf was left obsolete and before long, not even my 150 count shelf could contain it. I took pride in that collection (which was easily on par with that of Danny Butterman’s in Hot Fuzz. ) At the time of my first visit to McKay’s my collection was at roughly 400 disks. I had my own exclusive Blockbuster (I even charged certain relatives rental/late fees to insure I got my discs back in proper condition in a timely manner.). Never did I imagine the horror that was to come. By this time Columbia House had gone from a nice way to buy DVD’s at roughly 1/3 to 1/2 of retail to a ponzi scheme. $3 shipping per disk, jacked up prices, (increasingly so on bonus cash transactions) and sales tax for the full retail price of everything. My collection started to slow it’s growth. I was forced to turn to Ebay, hoping for legitimate copies of my purchases. It took a full 28 months for my collection to reach it’s pinnacle at 585 discs. This was after a dead summer in which only 3 movies were added to the collection. McKay’s had my scent and it wanted blood. Pulling off the greatest Blitzkrieg scene since the 2nd World War, McKay’s struck cutting my prized collection in half. 585 was taken to 253 overnight. I awoke with gaping holes where timeless classics and personal favorites had previously been. At first I was dumbstruck. I hoped against reason running to my roommate to see if he had borrowed them to make a DVD castle or some other multimedia monument. No such luck, when I returned to my room, I noticed that my dvd’s weren’t the only thing that had been disturbed. My wallet lay open with freshly printed check for $183.47 and a little yellow slip reading McKay Yellow Trade 295.69. McKay had been intimidated by the growing size of a competitor. The deed had been done. I went to confront the scoundrel, but was defeated again. I went to try to fix a wrong, but was weak. A selection of Christopher Moore Novel’s, and a handful of 360 games, and a couple of box set’s distracted me. I realized only after I was walking through the doors that I had been duped. I tried to return, but the doors had been sealed behind me.

I thought that it was over then, but I was a fool. I began working on my collection again, this time going for style over substance. Hoping that I could remain unnoticed. However that was not to be. The monster known as McKay has struck again, claiming another 23 DVDs. Well, 35 to be precise, but some sets were involved. If you take away the 12 additional discs included in those sets away from 35, you get 23…

McKay’s refuses to leave my DVD collection alone. A collection that once covered 5 shelfs, now barely covers two, and I’ll I have to show for it is around 10 books, several video games and blue rays and around $300 in cash. I fear the monster won’t rest until I have no DVDs left and few shelves full of Blue Rays.

Super Bacon was the official mascot of the "Bacon Party".

BLUE HOUSE ‒ Heart disease is described as the leading cause of death for adults in the U.S. besides New Jersey (which kills by just pure existence). Heart disease is slated to remain the number one cause of death until someone commits suicide in a Twilight movie.

On Super Bowl Sunday night, the Blue House decided to add to the statistics with a party dedicated strictly to bacon and bacon paraphernalia. The foods included bacon wrapped sausages, bacon cheesecake, bacon and spinach stuffed mushrooms, bacon vodka, and just plain, delicious bacon strips. Combined with Fryin’ Brian’s cherished cheese dip, multiple heart failures seemed destined to strike all attendees.

The party took place as the Green Bay Packers edged the Pittsburgh Steelers in Super Bowl XLV. Bacon was everywhere. One guest, Taylor, even brought a woven bacon superhero to be dedicated as the party’s mascot. The scent of bacon wafted through the air so much that the House could have been confused with an overweight fitness complex. “It was intense,” one guest said. “But, for the first time, I felt like a natural human. Humans and bacon, it’s a natural connection.”

Scooter, already a renowned bacon aficionado, remarked joyously at the party, “Take that Obamacare. With all the coronaries we’re creating, we might single-handedly drain the treasury.” He went on to say that Congress would definitely “repeal the bill”, for the House’s cholesterol levels rose quicker and higher than Glenn Beck’s television ratings (which is also harmful to the health).

Bacon dishes of all types blanketed the counter in a proverbial bacon buffet.

Arguably the highlight of the bacon experience was the platter of chocolate covered bacon, more popularly known as angel dung. One bite of the delicacy caused a swell in spirits and one collective praise: “Angel dung is delicious.” The dish was prepared by Nickle, and overall, she was surprised at the result. She was even more surprised when Scooter entered the restroom and attempted to “poop the bacon back out to eat again”. Scooter lurched out of the bathroom crestfallen and said, “Angel poo is better than human poo.” The party agreed. If angels don’t eat their own feces, they should.

With chocolate covered bacon and Scooter’s exploits, it is proven true that heavenly dung tastes better than earthly waste (somehow New Jersey keeps coming back up).

An inspirational Predator poster is a must for any aspiring Man-Man.

THE HOUSE – “You better Man-Man up or go lie down, bag ape,” M.C. Fox responds to those who struggle with their training. Fox is identified as the official Man-Man of The House. The Man-Man movement started when Fox noticed a lighthouse collection accumulating in the Corner Room. His solution: a Predator poster erected upon the door indefinitely.

With intense vigor, Fox devoutly drafted the laws for The Conservation of Man-Man Principle. When asked about the principles, Horner casually replied, “it’s all about the 2 P’s: Protein and Predator.” To become Man-Man, one must identify with those who have achieved the level of Man-Man status. Identification occurs during intense meditation in front of The Predator Poster while chanting Kumate. After several hours, Fox was able to separate his mind from the external world and become one with those who are disciplined in Man-Man.

The House recognizes such heroes as Julian, Bill Paxton, Jean-Claude Van Damme, and Rambo, among many others. “Man-Man training takes time, effort, and commitment. You just don’t become that way over night,” trainee Wiggs confirms. “It is the most intense training I’ve ever encountered.”

Fox tries to extend his knowledge to the local youth population when the opportunity is presented. “They know I’m coming when they hear the Fletch theme song heading their way,” he said. “Most the time they run though.”

“It seems common for people to feel distressed by this lifestyle,” explains Nickle. “It’s really not for everyone.”

A wide array of protein shake powders is essential to anyone who wants to Man-Man up.

For those preparing their journey, Fox advises trainees to gradually increase their protein intake. Protein is essential for the rigorous exercise accompanied with the training. He recommends putting in Forza Motorsport racing hours as study time. Staying hydrated is also greatly stressed. Protein and liquids are crucial for the health of any Man-Man. As long as an individual follows the principles of Man-Manism and stays committed, a sense of ultra masculine nirvana can be attained.

Kevin's Transformer costume nearly stole the show at last year's party.

BLUE HOUSE – For the seven hundred and twenty-first year in-a-row, the Blue House will host its annual Halloween Party. The party that has been described in recent decades as “the go-to event of the year” will ride again. Last year’s gala received the praise of thousands, including such remarks as “it was the most exhilarating experience of my life” and “it was so good, I pooped for the next thirty-six hours straight”. This year’s installment promises all of mind-lifting thrills and gut-squashing fun.

Instead of the usual in-house event of the past few years, the party will move outdoors where the House will, once again, erect its JumboTron and blast movies onto the side of the House. The film lineup still remains a mystery, but the Halloween theme will act as muse when the decision comes .A complementary fire will also be provided so long as one is deemed a friend of the House. No vagrants searching for a free fire will be admitted.

Another mystery regarding this year’s party is costumes. M.C. Fox dazzles crowds with his ‘Beerateer’ attire from a year ago, and this holiday’s costume promises to be just a eye-popping. No one, however, not even this prestigious publication, has been granted access to Fox’s hidden costume workshop. One can only speculate what wonders he will wear this year.

Whether this Halloween party will enter the annals as one of the greatest ever, it remains to be seen. This party does promise, however, to deliver a solid distraction to an entertainment-starved populace.

On a side note, Carl Winslow did receive his invitation. One can only wait for his confirmation and long-awaited arrival. The House’s history with Carl Winslow has been thoroughly documented, but House members would love add a triumphant chapter to the story. They would like Carl to finally show up.

Hampton stirs up the water and the balls as he crashes with intensity into the water.

SIDEYARD, Blue House – To put it bluntly: The Blue House has a new pool. After losing last year’s pool in an unthinkable tragedy, the House mustered together the strength to persevere and purchased a new, luxurious pool. “I think it’s an incredible piece of work,” Jeff L. Horner stated. “When you look at the plastic, air and water all combined in a fugue of aquatic bliss, you realize that we here at The Blue House are truly blessed.”

The festivities surrounding the new pool electrified those in attendance. Scooter, Hampton and Wiggs took full advantage of the hot day by showing off some acrobatic wonders that had even former Olympians stunned. The three even filled the pool with circus-style balls that were catapulted through the air at record speeds when one of the three slammed into the water.

“The balls were great,” one observer later added. “To see them shot through space like the heavens above was a sublime pleasure for me.”

Scooter performs a graceful somersault (Scootersault) into the pool.

It appears that the new pool will be a constant fixture at the House throughout the summer. “It’s getting really hot,” Horner said. “A pool just seemed the logical solution to cool everyone down, and as usual, the House didn’t disappoint.” Much more coverage regarding the pool and subsequent events is sure to come, and The Blue House Lives will be there with all the mesmerizing details.

Glenn Beck imitates blowing a vuvuzela, as he bashes the World Cup. This bashing, we cannot endure any longer.

It takes a lot to push this publication over the edge, but Glenn Beck, Fox News’ self-proclaimed prophet, has done it. We’re not very political, unless it comes to doing dishes or the superfluous war between the cats, so it was not Beck’s political lectures that brought us here. It was simply when the Beckerhead declared an unwarranted hatred of the World Cup, and claimed the same for all Americans, that this publication stood up and took notice. If only we took notice at Beck by letting Carlos Tevez kick him in groin.

So, Glenn Beck, let us just say something that has been said by a million well-intentioned people already: you suck. Why you would gallivant around on television insulting not just the sport-loving planet but passionate U.S. soccer fans is clearly beyond us. Actually, why someone would give Beck a television show to spit his absurd mouth poo is also beyond us. Additionally, why millions of people would waste the glorious hour of 5-6 PM to watch him pose as a teacher in his gall-bladder of a studio classroom is, once again, beyond us. It is just safe to say that Glenn Beck is beyond us, beyond us so far that he floats in a festering cosmos of bullshit.

Basically, when you bash the World Cup with your “I love America so much you should be afraid of it” narrowness, you really upset us. And we’re upset, Glenn. We’re crying.

Actually, we’re crying from joy after watching Landon Donovan score a last minute goal against Algeria to send the U.S. to the Round of 16. Come to it, that goal did more for America than anything that Glenn Beck has ever preached. It didn’t frighten us as Mr. Beck attempts to do every single day. That goal simply made us happy and proud to be Americans.

In closing, this publication does not attempt to know everything, but we do know two things: World Cup is awesome, and Glenn Beck is a major douche.

You don't want to end up on Weston's bad side

1. Burn Notice (Starring: Jeffrey Donovan, Gabrielle Anwar, Bruce Campbell, Sharon Gless)

The pilot starts with Micheal Weston in Nigeria surrounded by bad guys, and being told that he’s been burned.  After barely escaping with his life, he jumps on a plane and passes out.  Upon awaking he’s in Miami and he finds out that everything is gone.  None of his contacts will talk to him, and all of his assets are gone.  He’s on every watch list imaginable, and can’t leave.  All he has to fall back on are his trigger happy ex lover Fiona Glennane, and washed up former intelligence offer Sam Axe, who used to rat on him to the FBI.  There’s also Madeline… his mom.  Each episode introduces new (sometimes recurring, though usually not more than a few extra appearances) characters, usually dubbed as “The Client” as well as a villain usually dubbed “Insert whichever insult was just used here”.   Micheal has to figure out who burned him and why, by creating contacts from scratch and trying not to make to many enemies along the way.  It consistently has the ability to make you laugh one second, and be on the edge of your seat the next.  Jeffrey Donovan excels as Micheal Weston the spy with an innate ability to do whatever he needs to do.  Bruce Campbell is just as charming as ever as Micheal’s right hand man, Sam.  Gabrielle Anwar brings the hot girl fix as Fiona who is as dangerous as she is beautiful, and the three of them play off one another like they’ve known each other for ages.  A bit of drama, a bit of comedy, and a lot of action makes Burn Notice easy to jump into, and interesting enough to keep watching.  Currently in it’s 4th season, Burn Notice airs on USA Thursday Nights.

It actually comes on Wednesdays now...

2. Psych (Starring: James Roday, Dulé Hill, Timothy Omundson, Maggie Lawson, Corbin Bernson, Kristen Nelson)

When Shawn Spencer (Roday) was growing up, his father Detective Henry Spencer (Benson) constantly drilled him to hone his senses and prepare him for various circumstances he encountered on his job.  His dream was that one day Shawn would follow in his shoes, however Shawn lacked the drive to complete the school and training to become a detective.  Eventually fate intervenes and hands Shawn the opportunity to use his observational skills to pretend to be a psychic detective.  He enlists his best friend Burton “Gus” Gustor (Hill) as a partner and they for the agency “Psych”.

Roday is delightful as Shawn Spencer, spitting out witty one-liners, obscure pop culture references, and intentionally mispronouncing words for comedic effect as often as actors in other detective shows pause for dramatic effect.  The charisma between Roday’s Spencer and Hill’s Gus is so natural it’s almost as if they have known each other since they were little.  Omundson flows perfectly from super cop, to over eager persecutor, to  lonely divorcée, and back again so often you never know which Lassie you are going to get until about half way through the episode.  Maggie Lawson plays rookie cop detective Juliet O’Hara.  As the show develops she turns into the super cop you expected Lassiter to be as the show began, while maintaining that girl next girl sweetness that makes her irresistible to Shawn.  The true beauty of Psych comes from the ability to create memorable one shot characters to that are almost as memorable as the main cast.  This past season alone had appearances by Jalleel White and Keenan Thompson as part of Gus’s College A Capella group , Cary Elwes as a master theif, Sendhil Ramamurthy as a cursed broadway show producer, Jay Chandrasekhar has his brother/choreographer, and Stacy Kiebler as woman who really enjoys living.

From the incredibly catchy theme song, to witty banter, and varied plot hooks Psych is great show to just jump into.  It may not have the gut wrenching drama of Lost, but after years of yelling at the TV, it’s a very refreshing change of pace.  With the Season premiere set for July 17th, it’s likely you’ll be able to catch up quickly as USA tends to have marathons of the last season as refreshers.

Make it Sparkle

3.  How I Met Your Mother (Starring: Josh Radnor, Cobie Smulders, Alyson Hannigan, Jason Segal, Neil Patrick Harris)

The premise of How I Met Your Mother is simple, Ted Mosby (Josh Radnor, voiced in the future by Bob Sagat) is telling his children of how he met their mother.  Only it’s not just how they met, it’s the events that turned him into the person his mother fell in love with, and that prepared him to love her back.  By the end of season 5 Ted has grown a lot, but we still haven’t met the mother.  I for one couldn’t care less.

The real pull of How I Met Your Mother are the characters.  For starters there is Barney Stinson (Harris), whom through a combination of the” Bro Code” and the “Playbook” has more conquests than he can actually count, is disgustingly rich and totally awesome.  Then there is Robin Scherbovksy (Smulders) former pop star, current news anchor, and likely the most Canadian person you’ll ever see.  She loves long walks on the beach, hockey, and hand guns.  Ted’s best friend Marhall Eriksen (Segal) defines goofy, and paired with Lily Aldrin Eriksen (Hannigan) make the most adorable and socially awkward couple in New York.  Finally there’s Ted Mosby.  Architect.  Visionary.  Failure at love.  He’s so bad, that moving far to fast is now called a Mosby and he has his own website: TedMosbyisajerk.com

Topping off that pile of characters are the amazing journeys that happen at least once a season.  Scouring New York to rediscover the perfect burger.  A five hundred mile journey for crappy pizza.  A trip to Phili to pick up girls.  The best night ever.  The perfect date.  Sand Castles in the Sand.  Barney’s Final Four.  Too many to name.

The show has just been renewed for a sixth (and likely final) season, and odds the wife is coming.   When she does, I’m sure it will be Legend… wait for it… dary.

Scooter and Wiggs sported Dharma Blue House shirts.

BLUE HOUSE – In honor of LOST’s series finale on Sunday night, The Blue House hosted a special farewell party. “It was sad,” Scooter said. “I knew it would be. But I sucked it up, although I have no idea what I’m going to do on Tuesday nights from now on.”

As the evening began, guests enjoyed delicious food prepared by Nickle and a decadent dessert brought over by Striker and Lacey. They then proceeded to take part in LOST quizzes and games.

When the episode aired, aptly titled “The End,” everyone’s eyes were glued to the television. Earlier in the evening, the guests feasted on snacks branded with the Dharma Initiative logo. “We had Dharma soda, Dharma chips and Dharma dip,” Nickle said. Scooter and Wiggs even donned t-shirts that featured a cleverly designed Dharma Blue House logo.

After the big reveal at the end of the episode, which pointed out that flash-sideways timeline was actually an extreme flash-forward to after the survivors’ deaths, everyone was stunned. It appeared that religion played a big role, but Scooter stated that he liked that the writers didn’t hedge everything into one religion. “The stained glass had symbols from all major religions,” he said. “Its diversity closely resembled the cast of the show.

“It was a good ending to one of the best shows ever,” Striker said. Most of the guests concurred. “It was nice to see Boone again,” Scooter said. “That’s one of the hottest girls on the show.”

The scenes preceding the big twist were action-packed and sentimentally-stuffed. Although the literal cork protecting the presumed evil from erupting from The Island’s Source was a bit cheesy, Scooter felt it was necessary. “Eventually,” he said, “the writers were going to have to show the massive amount of energy they promised was under the island. A glowing light seems to be the most efficient way of conveying it.”

The snacks were labelled with Dharma logos, but Scooter honestly claims that they were dropped off early "during a Swan Station Lockdown."

The rest of the guests reveled in the romantic and utter tragic scenes. “Jack’s death,” Nickle said, “was extremely fitting.” She refers to the fact that Jack died exactly where he awoke in the Pilot episode, and his eye closed this time instead of opening.

“I’m going to miss it,” Scooter admitted. “But I’m excited to have a life again. Now, anything’s possible.”

My mouth had officially combusted. The sensation spread down my gullet as I swallowed the meat. How, oh I ask how, could this man in front of me, with his bristly beard already full of Atomic sauce, devour an entire basket of these things."

KNOXVILLE, TN – This is the story of when I witnessed a man eat fire. It was a Tuesday, and the sky looked like slate. Nichole and I had slid into a parking spot in front of Quaker Steak and Lube. We were early.

“Are you going to eat them?” she asked.

“I might try one. I think I kind of have to.” I said.

A few minutes later, a silver-bullet of a car cruised into the parking lot and stopped next to us. It was Fryin’ Brian making what, to him, was a weekly pilgrimage. There’s something about Brian that any time as he enters any scene, it seems entirely appropriate to play some old static-laced Hank Williams song; “Honky Tonkin’” should about do it. Brian lumbered up, and the three of us entering what is commonly known as “The Lube.”

“Ready to eat some hot wings?” I asked Brian.

“Do it every damn week,” he said. “This ain’t nothing.”

“I take it you getting the Atomics?”

“I get ‘em every time, and they’re good. They go down like candy.”

I was still wrestling with the idea of trying the Atomic Wings. They are so spicy that The Lube once had patrons sign a contract that cleared the establishment of all post-wing responsibility. So, as I understood it, these wings could kill me, and my little speck of a life could reach its climax on the floor of a place called The Lube.

The waiter approached. Brian ordered the sacred Atomics. Nichole ordered Asian style, and I, characteristically, wimped out and ordered plain hot wings. I could already see the indelible headline: “Scooter Cowardly Orders Hot (Wimpy) Wings. Atomics laugh heartily.”

“You can try a piece of mine, brother,” Brian said. I should have felt relief, but even this mild consolation startled me. I began to wonder whimsical things, like how cushiony the carpet was at The Lube or how it long it would take the paramedics to respond.

I drank a beer. Nichole sipped one. Brian drank two. Was he numbing his taste buds? Was that the key to Atomic Wing success? Should I too drink excessively, or would that only speed-up my post-Atomic demise?

The Wings arrived at our table, but I swore I could catch their fumes as they cleared the kitchen door. Their scent was stinging, almost suffocating. It felt like a hornet had flown up my nose and instantly crapped out acid. Brian basically licked his chops. Without any notice at all, he sunk his teeth into that juicy inferno.

“Just like candy,” he said.

“I can smell them from here,” I said.

Nichole held her nose.

“They smell good,” he said. “You should try ‘em.”

I nodded slightly and bit into one of my wings. It tasted as I expected it to taste: mild. I was coward; I knew that for sure. In the world of manly excursions, eating the hottest wings is a sure-fire way to rise to the top of masculinity, and by humbly munching on tame wings, I provided too much evidence that my estrogen level was high.

“My wings are pretty good,” Nichole said. Of course they were; they were tamest of all.

There was only one sensible thing for me to do. I had to try the Atomic Wings. “Cut me off a little piece,” I said.

“These are the hottest wings in town,” said Brian. I thanked him for his bedside manner, and with my fork, I snagged a small piece of chicken from his basket.

I was definitely hesitant, as I smelled the piece of meat until my nostrils hurt. I then decided to compromise and dip the meat into my ramekin of ranch dressing. Actually, dip might be an understatement. The correct description would be that I drenched the meat in ranch until there wasn’t even a section of it visible.

“Chicken shit,” Brian said. “The ranch dulls it.”

“I know,” I said.

Here was the moment. I glanced at Nichole in a subtle attempt to say farewell. I would have said farewell to Brian as well, but I secretly blamed him for convincing me to try such a thing. I shoved the meat into my mouth and chewed until the ranch wore off. Sensation: that’s the best way to describe it. It spread like spicy cancer through my mouth, and I tried to chew faster. I let out a sound, although I don’t remember what it was. Something like “Whew.” Brian snickered. My mouth had officially combusted. The sensation spread down my gullet as I swallowed the meat. How, oh I ask how, could this man in front of me, with his bristly beard already full of Atomic sauce, devour an entire basket of these things. He didn’t use ranch. He used nothing. He just took bite after bite with the look of a famished lion. He enjoyed them. I bet he would have eaten burning coals if I would have asked him.

“How’d you like it?” he asked.

“I hate you,” I said.

“This ain’t nothing,” he said. “These are only 150,000 Scoville units. There’s some in Chicago that are 560,000. I want to try those.” I should explain to the reader that a Scoville heat unit is a measurement of a food’s spice. It measures the presence of capsaicin, the active ingredient in chili peppers. Basically, Brian wanted to eat lava.

“You think you could finish a whole basket?”

“I’d damn sure try.”

I swigged my beer and went back to my regular (tame) hot wings. Interestingly, they weigh in at 3,000 Scoville units, which seemed a lot to me, but when compared to the mini-Mount St. Helens in Brian’s basket, I guess I should consider them about as spicy as a banana.

The rest of the meal passed as uneventfully as any meal does. My mouth still burned, and I feared what might happen when that little piece of chicken fully digested. I imagined that I would make the bathroom my monkish cell, as the wrath of God erupted from my ass.

Nonetheless, I had tried the suitably-named Atomic Wings. Brian ate a basket of them. I had a mere speck. And, if anyone cares to know, Nichole’s Asian wings were probably the best ones there.

Hughett, complete with music and million-dollar smile, thoroughly entertained the crowd at the Blue House Baseball Zone.

BH BASEBALL ZONE, KNOXVILLE, TN – Last night, Charleston Windjammers all-star second baseman Josh Hughett played to a packed house at the Blue House Baseball Zone, the new sports bar endeavor by Blue House Baseball. As the bar has been trying to attract acts for its opening week, officials discovered that Hughett has a largely untapped musical gift. He displayed those skills in a sublime performance that showcased his somewhat folksy sound.

“He was really impressive,” Jeff L. Horner, owner of the Virginia Opossums, stated. “I had no idea he could do anything but tear up the league at shortstop, and look at him; he’s now tearing up the stage.” Horner went on to state that Hughett would definitely be the highlight of the bar’s opening week festivities.

The crowd easily shared Horner’s sentiment. When he arrived on stage, he received a considerable pop, and as he cranked out song after song, the crowd warmed to him at a volcanic rate. It was not just Charleston fans that cheered either, for the crowd was littered with ball caps that displayed multiple team logos.

“I thought he was great,” on fan who sported a Montreal Flatliners cap said. “And I sure as hell don’t like Charleston.” Other fans voiced their positive opinions as well. From Hawai’i to Manchester, people agree that Hughett has rare talent. Even the tough fans seemed to let Hughett into their heart. “I guess he wasn’t bad,” Striker, the owner of the Boulder Bunions said. “If he could play ball like he does music, maybe the Windjammers could get out of last place.”

If things go differently on the diamond for Hughett, it appears that he could easily quit his day job.

Here is a small sample of the show: