Kank Qixarth hoots, makes noise, observes, yowls. Give a walrus a stack of Dead C, Pere Ubu, and Fushitsusha CD's, an amplifier that feeds back the moment it is turned on, and convince it to mate with a leaky beanbag, and you are not far from the Gang Wizard experience.
Kank Qixarth's commitment to incompetence is long-lasting and thorough. Qnak Wixxxar's love for volume is robust and self-destructive.

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