Once upon a time there was a boy who didn't speak. It wasn't that he couldn't-- in fact, Ronald Biddlewinks had excellent vocal equipment. A strong tongue, round, forceful lips, and a violent voice box.

But Ronald Biddlewinks couldn't see what everyone was talking about. Everyone-- his parents, teachers, kids on the playground-- they were always chattering, making nonsense sounds and responding with more nonsense. But despite his parents' many lectures and bribes and forced reading sessions, Ronald had no interest. He preferred to watch the way the sun glimmered on the rippling water at dawn, to hear the springtime leaves laughing, and to gorge on the honey from his father's backyard beehives.

Because he refused to talk, Ronald Biddlewiks's first friend was made of wood. From the moment they met on Christmas morning, Ronald and Woody the Guitar have spent every day together. They do not comunicate in "words" as we know them, but in Music-- a language in which thry are both fluent. Woody taught Ronald how to sing without opening his mouth, how to capture the meaning of things with a simple strum of the strings. Not nonsense talky sounds, but sounds like the laughing leaves. In turn, Ronald taught Woody to loosen his strings a little, to stop vibrating all the time and mellow out, to sit and appreciate a microscopic arade of little black ants.

Ronald Biddlewinks toured the countryside with Woody tucked under his arm. In every village and nook his concert turned into an all-night party of dancing and drinking and feats of  derring-do. He was treated as a celebrity. And yet when the concert ended and dozens of shapely young women rushed at Ronald, frenzied by the palm wine, he would say nothing. He smiled but the fair maidens soon became disenchanted with Ronald's silence and scattered.

One night, at a show in the province of Bettelmie, Ronald had a life changer. That is to say, a thing happened that snapped Ronald into reality. It was a beautiful woman. Not beautiful in the regular sense of luscious lips and endless curves, but Inside Beautiful, such that she poured out all the right things.

When Ronald Biddlewinks saw this wondrous creature, his mind became fixed. Fortunately, his hands knew the song well enough to play on autopilot. So Ronald played on, staring at this woman, the muse of his life, and his song went into a place that he had never known existed. His fingers massaged Woody's strings like possessed angels, forming a melody so beautiful that the entire crowd moved as one huge, entranced animal.

That's when it happened. Ronald Biddlewinks began to sing.

They were the first sounds he'd ever uttered besides the occasional yawn, belch, or hiccup, and they were... absolutely beautiful. They were not words, 'tis true. Ronald's singing was more like sublime grunts, lions' roars, and begging, hopeful cries. They were directed at the short-haired, long-nosed, gray-eyed girl in the back row.

In less than a fortnight, Ronald and Ms. Back Row entwined themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Biddlewinks. Unfortunately, Ronald soon learned that Mrs. Biddlewinks was not what he had thought she was. She wanted to change him, to suffocate his music. And so Ronald again becane silent, although the paparazzi claim to have caught him "murmuring" and "mumbling" to his agent.

The only press release Ronnie's agent has ever given contained just one insight into Ronnie's mysterious existence. He said: "My only true companion is my best friend, Woody Guitar."