Jackson “Disco Dave” Fulk-Logon

The year was 1971. The location was downtown London. Down an alley off of a back road, and beneath an abandoned trashcan factory, was the disco club. Suddenly, on the dance floor of the club, a baby’s cry could be heard. Spawned out of the leftover glitter and disco-ball shards that littered the ground, was a fully-grown baby-man. His body was unusually large and orange. A cut-off shirt sparsely covered his pulsing muscles. Some said he looked like an off-brand Hulk-Hogan.

Baby Disco Dave immediately took to the dance floor and tore it up. Literally. His funky moves eroded the badly constructed floor, which was impractically made, even for the 1970s. As the floor shattered into pieces, the structure of the building began to give way. The ceiling caved in and leftover trashcans from the empty factory above the club came crashing down. Disco Dave, not knowing what to do, grabbed two pieces of broken wood from the wreckage and flailed around. By accidentally hitting the can lids around him, DiscoDave made a beautiful melody of hot fire beats. A beat master was born.

Unfortunately, do to three pending lawsuits and one charge of property damage from the disco club, Disco Dave had to flee to the States to avoid prosecution. Once in the US, Disco Dave roamed the streets of major cities, looking for anything to make mad beats with. It wasn’t until after he bumped into a pack of rats, who led him to the Aidekman basement, that he found BEATs and his true calling. He remains there to this day.