Indian Summer's father, Mouth of Breast, was the first in his tribe to do smoke signals out of his mouth. By 23, he had scorched his entire throat. The local tribe doctor performed a botched tracheotomy that left him with a hole thru his entire neck, not just the front. The winters were brutal as the cold shuttered and whipped thru his entire neck and head. Young Indian Summer (at the time named Suede Loin) would cry for his father's pain and suffering.
But even in deep sorrow, Suede's voice would echo thru the reservation like the harp of an angel. Every third moonrise, Suede would stand atop the furthest hilltop, and sing luscious ballads that would make women, newborns to elders, drench their womb rags. Suede's decadent melodies have been said to be responsible for nearly all conceptions in the tribe.
Suede's beloved father, Mouth of Breast, was an honorable smokes man, the only to ever dare send signals out of his mouth and did not deserve his torturous fate. He believed only the jaw could ensure accuracy of the message in order to protect against the rising threat of Honky conqueror.
Suede Loin went on a vision quest to end his father's pain. He sought a wise old medicine man from a rival tribe, to see if there was a way to get his father his voice back and his neck closed before the next harsh winter. When he came upon the medicine man, the old one said, "for u to save your father, you must first give me your most sacred gift". Suede knew this was his voice. His buttery pancake cocoa fudge cream silk the shocker voice. And so he did...
Immediately his father's neck was closed and pain over. But Suede's misery would only just begin. Without his voice to fill the meadows with drenching hot vocal lube, the entire population of his tribe was at risk. No more love was being made. No more soaked womb rags. As grateful as Mouth of Breast was for his son's sacrifice, he felt tremendous guilt and loss.
The tribe turned on Mouth of Breast and Suede loin. They were banished for eternity. Not to mention, Suede was now a mute. He could show the passion on his face. And Open his mouth. But nothing came out.
Suede and Mouth ended up traveling by canoe to a deserted island for safety. Upon arriving they discovered a vast paradise filled with enlightened prehistoric creatures that were surprisingly tame, super chill, mostly naked, and immersed in progressive musical experimentation.
Suede began hearing the most spectacular sounds he'd ever heard in his life coming from an indoor cave where dinosaurs gather to create new music. He ran inside and happened upon a young t-Rex with a crude cup in his hand. As if he was waiting for him his entire life, the T-Rex said to him: "welcome Suede. I have been waiting for you my entire life. Drink this liquid. It's juice"
Suede drank the liquid Juice, and instantly, his voice returned. But not the same as before. It was even better and more powerful. Mouth of Breast broke down in tears of joy.
Liquid Juice and Suede Loin made 641 tracks that day. Their beautiful music echoed throughout the entire island. The inhabitants came from all over to hear their songs. With each note the female dinosaurs would soil their reptilian gashes. The scent sending the male dinosaurs crazy, leading to an entire summer of pulse-pounding Dino-fucking. No of the dinosaurs had ever seen an Indian before. Nor would they ever forget that summer. From then on, the boy with the golden voice would be known as: Indian Summer.