Over 5000 years ago, from the dry stretches of the not-so-fertile crescent wandered a nomadic, foul smelling people. A robust, well-endowed, and manly tribe, they were united through ancient rituals involving instruments capable of infinite fonkiness and overt sekshul innuendo. The Pharaoh, a mean mother (shutcho' mouth), hated the nomads and their ability to shred like a mofo all up in that biatch. But more than that, he hated the power of their righteous grooving to make drop the tunics of his five luscious teenage daughters.