After a freak cloning vat accident involving cannibinoid contamination; the clone reject was tossed into the incinerator for disposal. The reprocessor let him out 3 weeks later after hearing off key singing coming from within the bin. He has no name, no past and no real direction other than out of the room filled with the half consumed clone corpses he had used to sustain himself. So, with the bongo he built out of random bits of skin he had aquired tucked under one arm, and what little sanity could be gathered to bear, Loade ens Mokabole set off to find purpose in this universe.