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MISFIT MOB
WE ARE THE MOB
A misfit is a fish out of water, an outsider, a non conformer. Misfits don’t fit coz the fit don’t sit right.
We are a PFP project building a rock solid community on the Solana Blockchain. Lead by award winning artists and filmmakers we are creating a project that aims to punch a great big hole through the NFT world with fiery storytelling, addictive misfits and imaginative world building.
Join the Mob, you know you want to...
JACK
TEEF
FRANK
SHAKES
SOMEONE OPENED THE BOX
What the hell just happened?
All four of us flattened. Shocked faces across the boozer. Queenie, the landlady, took one look and passed out on the floor, none of us had ever seen the top of someones head explode off before… Not many people have to be fair.
My pal, my brother, my china plate lay there… In a sorry state of affairs, spread eagled down on the deck, blood everywhere, face all pale, dead as a fucking door nail…
But I’ve jumped the gun here a bit I know. You see, all this fuckery started a couple of hours ago. My name is Jack and I was seeing off a pint and throwing some darts in the local watering hole. Frankie boy was cheering coz the Hammers had just scored a goal. Shakes was belting out his heart and soul, all crap and croaky on the karaoke, but he didn’t give a toss that his vocal range was a bit ropey. Me bruvva from another muvva, Teef, nicknamed after his array of gold Hampstead heaths, was coming out the toilet when a funny looking bloke in an old fur coat, a geezer in need of a soap, most definitely without a home, came waltzing in asking if we wanted to buy a cracked iPhone, a scooter with one wheel, half a pound of jellied eels, a pair of high heels, orange peels, windscreen wipers for your automobiles and a box… A cube shaped, rather ornate pretty little thing, that he reckoned came from a Mayan king, who sold it to a druid prince, who buried it in Bethnal Green where its been sat ever since.
"Now, now." This geezer said, his eyes all full up with dread. "I’ll sell you this box, but you must not, I swear to fucking God, open the fing. For if you do, all hell might just break loose…"
This is where we should have said:
Sayonara, see you later alligator, be lucky and be on your best behaviour, Au revoir, adios bruvva, take your box to some other sucker. But…
Something about this little box made all the clocks stop, we were taken by it. Frank was licking his lips: Let’s have it. He spits. Teef chucked the funny fella a five pound note and we watched the blokes' bony hand take it and stick it in his coat, then he said a little prayer to the Father, the son and the holy ghost and then he just goes.
We placed the box on the bar top and put it to a vote… Who want’s to open it up and see?
Teef downed his pint and spat: "ME!"
And it’s about this time, where we catch up with our story. For Teef grabbed hold of the little fing and opened it up…
We stood over it, silence in the pub. Inside looked very much like it went on forever, a deep black hole deep down into the ether… But then, from somewhere within, a pink vapour swirled about, it looked like a mini universe had broke out.
All full up with stars and planets of varying capacities, milky ways and galaxies. It was beautiful and we all stood there staring, tongues out, glaring into the abyss, when…
BANG! An unholy explosion, an ocean of pink, attacked the pub! It knocked us all back and splattered us to fuck in gloopy pink dust.
"Everyone alright?" I spoke. A few punters murmured back. Knocked off their chairs after this supernatural attack.
"Jack!" Frank spat. I got to me feet and that’s when I saw Teef… On the deck with only half a head, brain all showing and 100 percent dead…
The strange pink material, went aerial and seeped through the windows. The box lay empty beside my dead pal. I jumped down and had a go at mouth to mouth, but that weren’t gunna be no good, the poor sod’s brains were hanging out.
But before I could cry, plead to the Gods above to bring my brother back to life, something magical did arise. Teef groaned and the fucker spoke!
"Oh my god, my head!" He groaned.
He sat upright and itched his beard, wondered why we was all looking at him weird.
"Teef, your head…"
He had a feel and got a handful of brain. This was insane… He almost chucked up his guts. This was absolutely nuts. But before any of us could rationalise what our eyes had just seen, a monstrous cry rang out on the streets…
We opened the doors to the boozer and looked outside, and each and every one of us was horrified. The entire sky was infected with the pink stuff, swirling about like another world above us. Then, an army of giant bats descended on London, Explosions and monstrous roars rang out in the street. The ground below our feet cracked and splintered and robotic geezers climbed out shooting lasers.
It was at this moment that I made an executive decision… Boozers closed.
I went to shut the door and hide away, but a crazy, old man who looked like he was from a distant land, clutching an automatic rifle, got in my way and gave me an earful. Proper raging and spiteful!
"What did you do?" He croaked. "All Hell’s broken loose!"
He cocked his gun, spun round and shot down a few giant bats into bits. Then he lit up a cigar looked at me and my pals and said:
"Right, you mob of fucking misfits… Here those ticks, that’s your clock… you got five fucking seconds to tell me who opened the fucking box?"
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MISFITS
JPFF
COMMUNITY MANAGER/ creative
All aboard this mans hype train. Anything he touches turns to gold. A certified NFT wizard, who spends his days outside Web3 writing and directing films, being a crypto consultant and eating rotten fish. He is your man on the ground and is experienced in community management. His webbed toes lets us know he's in the mob.
THE MISFIT
FOUNDER/ARTISt/
creative
Multi award winning writer, actor and director who writes on a top 10 show for Netflix, has starred in multiple movies and TV shows and has won one of the most prestigious awards for his craft in the world. He also has experience in web development and marketing, not just a pretty face. He is the Captain of the Misfits who ate his own twin in the womb and once got beat up by the Dark Knight.
FAT GONZO
head of media/
creative
This is the dude you want with you at the end of the world. He is a multi award winning director of strange fiction, big budget music videos and documentaries, he is currently working with one of the biggest names in the gaming industry. He has worked globally and brings his knowledge to the mob. He once put a pro wrestler in hospital with nothing more than a sock. Work that one out...