It started with a tribute band.  The wart, recently excised from the famous nose of Geddy Lee, found himself adrift in the world with no purpose.  So he clung to the only thing he knew - Rush songs.

They called themselves the Lost Parts.  Another wart, recently sliced from Enrique Iglesias' face, brought a Latin flair on guitar.  Stang's nut was on bass.  And tearing up the drums, with a passion and skill unmatched by any surgically removed chunk of skin, fat, or hair in the whole celebrity kingdom, was Mickey Rourke's entire original face. "The Face", they called him, and his performances always brought down the house.  With Geddy's Wart on vocals, hitting those high notes, it seemed like success was within reach for the Lost Parts.

Their standard playlist - "Red Wartchetta", "Working Wart", "La Balla Stangiato" - brought them acclaim, and fortune, and yes, sometimes, a series of nameless, faceless groupies would make the rounds.  For the Wart, it was a hollow victory.  He remembered his days riding aloft on Geddy's nose, and sought out the one truly satisfying thing in life - the approval of his father.

And so he left his friends, and began his long and arduous journey to the distant, maple-syrup scented land of Canada.  From a garage, he heard the voice of his father, and followed it.  But all he found there were some guys fixing cars, with the sleeves cut off their t- shirts.  "Have you seen my father, Geddy Lee?" he asked hopefully.

One of the men answered, "Yea, I did see thy father, who performeth at the 30th Anniversary Concert, and lo, he did wail.  He hath since departed these parts, and with him, hope."

"I'll never lose hope," said the wart, and continued travelling.

After some time, he again heard the voice of his father, this time from a parking lot, amid strewn Molson bottles and ladies in blue eyeshadow, and he approached the man who held aloft the boom box from which his beloved patriarch could be heard.  "Have you seen my father, Geddy Lee?" he asked the man, whose t-shirt again lacked sleeves. "Alas, I did not see him," said the man, "For I was bound by my word to attend to my labors at the auto parts supply store, and though I did request it, Larry Murtry, yon Boss of the Area, refuseth me, that cock.  Your father then moved on to the next leg of the tour, taking with him my ability to love."

"I'll never stop loving," said the wart, and continued.

Eventually, after much toil, he reached his fabled motherland, and blew many a roadie to get backstage, and there he saw his father. Humbly, he approached him, and said, "Geddy Lee, it is I, your long- lost wart.  I have travelled many hemispheres to reach you.  I have followed the signals, flying by night, and strove to show grace under pressure.  At last you are here, and I ask for your blessing with my Rush tribute band, The Lost Parts, that we may continue to make beautiful music in your name, without fear of copyright litigation or cease and desist letters.  With your blessing on this venture, I will go forth to ultimate success!  Presto!"

"Fuck a duck, eh," said Geddy Lee.  "I never had any wart."

At that moment, Neil Peart walked in, and seeing the wart on the coffee table, said, "Dibs on that M&M!" and picked him up and ate him.

And as The Wart travelled headfirst towards the acid bath of Peart's bowels, he realized that his friends - The Ball, The Face, The Other Wart - were the family he had CHOSEN, and were thus his true family. And he knew peace.

But the Lost Parts broke up shortly afterwards due to creative
differences.


The end.  Happy Friday!