When John got his first bicycle at the age of 6, things were never to be the same. He would ride and ride and ride. His sense of balance, and grace were stuff of legend. Unfortunately, his sense of direction was not, and so after his very first day of riding, he was several hundred miles from his home in Vancouver and hopelessly lost. He was taken in by a lonely old piano teacher named Margaret who fed him, and gave him a place to sleep. The next day, she began forcing him to take piano lessons, always telling him that as soon as she felt he was good enough, she would take him home. Wanting to see his family again, he practiced and practiced.
His escape attempts became more sporadic over time, especially as Margaret had a 4 wheel drive truck and would catch him within minutes. The punishments were not so much painful as... well... bizarre...

His piano playing took over his life, and he was soon emulating Ray Charles, Nikky Hopkins and Liberace with ease. No matter what he did however, Margaret was not satisfied. She would sit on a little stool behind the piano bench, poking John with a spork whenever he made an error. As she grew older however, and her hearing faded, almost anything John played sounded like an error to her, and soon his lessons became an unendurable hell of chop sticks and spork pokings.

One day, he heard a motorcycle coming up the road. In a fit of rage, he ran from the house, knocked the rider down, grabbed the motorcycle and screamed off before Margaret could take action. He rode as far as Massachusetts, where he hooked up with the Valves. He bought his own motorcycle, a Triumph, as a tribute to his escape.

He's much happier now, just don't ever get to close to him with a spork.