THE BONGO BLEND BLUES

Well, the sun was sinkin' low over the dusty plains, castin' long shadows across the parched sand. A lone coyote howled in the distance, a mournful sound that echoed through the empty air. Inside a ramshackle shack, old Man Joe strummed his trusty ukulele, fingers calloused and worn from years of playin'. His throat was rough as gravel, but it croo