Intrigue ya does it boy? My Thumb? Let me tell ya 'bout it. I come from a long line of hitchhikers, all with bleedin' massive thumbs. You see the thumb its a tremendous boom to the hitchhiker, helps with work. Ya know what I mean? Only problem was, when I was a child, my thumb was tiny. Not just tiny like a single sugar puff, Disgusting! Even my own mother would reel back in horror, like an anaconda, 'Aagh! What is it!? Get it out of here! It's tiny! It's horrible, it's revolting! Take your tiny thumb and get out of here and never darken my door again!' she'd say. I had to leave the family unit, in search of a miracle. I wandered the streets, looking for the answer. And people told me of a magic shaman: part man, part hornet. So I went looking for him. I went everywhere. I combed the universe in search of the stripy insect shaman. Turns out he was in a local primary school, in the bin, reeling about with the apple cores. Like they do. And I stood there, with my thumb out, and he stung it, and he stung it. He grabbed onto it, it was like he was making love to it with his sting. In and out, in and out, more and more! Oh the pus, the pain, the black voodoo, the wet jigsaw puzzle! I didn't know what was happening. Oh for days I was in a trance. But when I came to, there it was. Like a fleshy maraca! A thumb of gigantic proportion! 'A miracle!' I said, 'A miracle, you're a true wizard! How can I ever repay ya?' And he said to me, 'Five hundred euros.' 'Five hundred euros!? You won't see penny one from me you slag!' And as I raised my thumb up, to smash his tiny skull in I could see in his little insect face, could see him thinkin', 'Oh, I created that monster! I created that thumb! And now it's killing me! My own beastly creation, killin' me dead. The sweet irony.' I think he was sayin' that, although it was a long time ago. And in hindsight, he coulda just been shittin' himself.