The Days of the Future Past

There we were, OUIJA board in hand, incense burning, pet tele-tubby sacrificed. 

"When will the MaxXouT 6 song EP be released?" Elliot asked, sitting with a fresh coat of corpse paint. The triangle started flying around the board, faster and faster in concentric circles, dizzying us and putting us both in a trance-like stupor. Just when we felt we had crossed over the mortal plane, a ghostly apparition of Jimi Hendrix appeared. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, only the sounds of guitars came out. We couldn't understand a word he was saying. 

"Come on Jimi, let us know!!!" Elliot screamed. Large, half-eaten pizza rolls started to rain down on us from the heavens, thudding into our buddies, but weakly bouncing off of Jimi's perfect afro. 

The ghost of Jimi locked eyes with us and held up his hands. That's when we noticed he had 12-fingers, 6-fingers per hand!

"So that's how he did it!" I yelled. 

"12? 12? Does that mean December???" Elliot raged, froathing at the mouth as another errant pizza roll plummeted into his nose. 

We awoke, on the floor of MaxXouT manor, Elliot mumbling "12" over and over again. The smell of rancid gas station pizza rolls filled the air, when we noticed there was a plate of half-eaten gas station pizza rolls right next to us.  

"Maybe it was food poisoning", Elliot said, grabbing another roll to mow down on, when I noticed the OUIJA board pointer was resting right in between the 1 and 2.