Prologue:

Back in the late 50's, music had an issue. No one knew where the light jams and stupid country music was going to end up, would it make music terrible, or would it end up giving birth to the greatest genre of music ever created?

There was once a man, an awesome man, like really awesome, who was insanely skilled at guitar. His name was Jimi Hendrix, and his skill did not come just randomly. He had to work for it. Jimi had an average childhood, not like Michael Jackson, with early fame, Jimi was just an just an average kid. He grew up, became a young dude, and like all young dudes had a coming of age ceremony, dinner with the gods.

So he and his minion buddy dudes went up to the god's cloud-fortress to begin the dinner. It was delicious, and he had a seat next to the awesomest god-dude of them all, Chuck Norris, the king of the gods. They were talking and stuff, and Jimi was stoked to be talking to the greatest person in the world and like the universe and stuff, but then he noticed an object in the corner of the cloud room. It had two horns, and a long neck between them, with six strings. The object had very interesting color, with orange fading into black, and a brownish color in the combination. There was a white shield type thing on it, obviously designed to protect against something.

Little did Jimi know, he was looking at the first fender stratocaster, one of the god's own tools of rock. He instantly knew he had to have it. When they we leaving the dinner party, he managed to grab it without being seen. He got back to earth and formed a band.

At first, his band, the Jimi Hendrix Experience was just a bunch of dudes, but like every good band, it grew, and eventually became popular, and more popular, and more popular, until it was insanely awesome, and it was just missing one thing, rock as we know it. He knew only Chuck Norris would have a thing so awesome, so he decided to steal it, for the good of mankind.

As he infiltrated the cloud fortress, he sneaked across the wall, flat as a pancake, a recorder in hand. He began to hear a great sound. Booming, rockful, awesome rocking rock! He turned the corner and saw a band, a live performance of the song that we now know as purple haze. He hit the recorder, and right as the song hit the one minute mark, he was spotted. “HEY!” Chuck yelled “ROCK N' ROLL IS A GODLY THING AND YOU CAN'T HAVE IT. IN TEN YEARS YOU SHALL DIE IF YOU LEAVE WITH THAT!” Jimi didn't believe him, and ran off with the recorded music.

That element, the gods form of rock was the last remaining element of the band, and they quickly went on to be the greatest band in the world, and rocked, played gigs, and was totally awesome. They were the greatest band at at Woodstock, a three day music festival of rock and stuff. But in 1960, everything came to an abrupt stop. Jimi had just played a very long gig, that totally exhausted him to like, the bone. He sat down on his bed and gulped down a couple of sleeping pills to help him get to sleep. The lights in his eyes began to dim, obviously a regular occurrence in getting to sleep, but he felt something else, an inner peace, and that he would never feel the evilness of the world ever again.

So Jimi peacefully died, but his legacy went on, and he is still considered the greatest guitar player ever to live. The gods were angry, but the rock went on, and is the greatest genre of music ever.