Killa Dilla

Two men, tattered and bruised, appear on the horizon. Unknown, their origin. Unknown, their purpose. Unknown, their struggle. Smoke fills the air as a faint rumble becomes present almost inaudible at first, then gaining strength as the very Earth begins to shake under one's own feet. "This must be an apparition," a voice calls out "for I have never heard such an ominous sounding tone. Let alone one resounding from the Earth itself!" Eyes play tricks, ears hear folly, the mind recoils in horror as the very visions once thought to be apparitions take physical form and through them, nay, from within them the very rumble grows louder and louder still until so voluminous that the very molecules behind the eyes vibrate in a wonderful dance of joy! "This must be magic!" The voice calls again. "This cannot be human, for I have scaled Everest and I have seen the depths of the oceans and never in my life have I heard such a sound! Show yourselves!!" And as quickly as the two men appear, they vanish. In their stead is seen a small amulet, a disc if you will. And upon that disc is the blood, sweat, and tears of a thousand generations. A million millennia in waiting, this disc holds the energy of a thousand suns all condensed into a volume the size of the palm of your hand. And now, as the brain struggles to regain senility, and the eyes adjust to the blinding light, a cry is heard on the horizon, "BEHOLD! We are the Dillion, and all the world shall know us as the Killa Dilla!"