The Lee Boys hopped out of The Van and Spud hopped on them. They were shadow boxing outside within moments of their session’s conclusion. “Oh I got hands boy! I got hands!” proclaimed Spudnik. He does indeed have hands, just they ain’t the same kind of hands these boys brought to Colorado, no sir. These boys brought hands that a surgeon would envy. Now while they ain’t those thin, spindly fingers that might work well with a scalpel, these boys seem to have a too big an appetite for those. Yet their hands are just as precise, maybe more so, as they navigate over their strings, which mind you are thinner than a scalpel ever was and ever will be. So yeah Spud, you’ve got hands, I wouldn’t want to catch you in a ring, but your hands they don’t do what the Lee Boys’ hands do, no, no, no. Their hands make fire without smoke. Their hands make women excited, without touch. Their hands paint a picture without a brush. Their hands make music, and ooh Lord, that’s just enough.