Finally, after a year of harrowing adventures through the picante American heartland, here is the highly anticipated second release from New York-based folk sensation, The Tres Amigos.

Despite having been recorded in the deep-end of a public swimming pool and despite its deep-fried, sweet-and-sour texture, The Tres Amigos latest effort leaves many problematic questions unanswered:

What really happened at the Rockabilly festival where the Amigos played for two solitary men tailgating on top of a giant cliff at ten in the morning? (And where they only narrowly avoided being impaled by shish-kabob-wielding, incensed pompadours...)

What about the grey fox mysteriously found dead on the side of the road by state troopers the following morning?

How do we account for the startling photos of the Amigos passed out in a giant margarita glass in the foggy hills of Grassy Creek, North Carolina?

Why did they spend a bemused night in a teepee in Taos, New Mexico?

And who fished them out of the San Francisco Bay after the Mutiny on the Ruby Sloop of War?

When the truth is missing like the worm in the tequila bottle I bought the Amigos on Valentines Day, we must either retreat to the terrible recesses of speculation or throw up our hands and join in the bacchanal. I suggest the latter.

Now where's my julep...

Jean-Luc Poivre
Editor-in-Chief, "The Spicy Special"