The phantasmagoric Tilts

Ok, This post should be taken for entertainment purposes only. I mean no harm to persons living, dead, or undecided. I just think it's funny.
So, it has been brought to my attention that there is more to this Tilts record than what you may have been led to assume. That is, no, they are not simply a now defunct hard rock band. They are the results of dark magicks and occult rituals performed by secret covens of the rich and powerful.
Unknown to most, Ben Orr did not die in 2000, as many believe. Instead, he retreated into arcane mystic rituals, trying to create interdimensional party rock for the coming of the dark old ones. Towards this, he had been collecting genetic samples of various and sundry rock gods, for use in unspeakable experiments meant to make Yog-sothoth shake its hairy and tentacled nether regions.
So, first, he combined the sweat of Ted Nugent's soul patch circa 1989, right before Damn Yankees, with the skin flakes of Mac McNeilly from Jesus Lizard, thus creating a rock superbeast. He mated this slavering monstrosity with 100 would be groupies for Tom  Scholz who were disappointed that he'd prefer to invent the Rockman for use as Kurt Cobain's distortion pedal, and thus were primed to serve the dark master Ben Orr. This created the million headed demon known as "Super Ultra Mega", and when it found a cowbell formerly owned by Andy Parker of UFO, it developed a tumorous parasitic twin called "Mexiqo". But Yog-Sothoth was not yet pleased so The Evil Wizard taught it to play "Brown Sugar" by the Rolling Stones, as it was performed by Slint  and bootlegged by Larry Clark. This summoned the astral projection of Josh Homme's psyche through time and space from his medically induced coma and left his mojo there. Josh Homme's mojo then did a series of eight quick phantom power squats,gave a withering look at a portrait of Ron Wood, and  said the incantation "blooey" then exploded into pattern that resembled  Leslie West's mountain of a white boy afro. It helps, but whatever happened only Superstar Billy Graham knows. The psychic energy thus released curled up and congealed into a throbbing ball of solid groove that burned off  Jesse Hughes' mustache forcing him to borrow Bob Hite's merkin.  This struck Ben Orr as some kind of onanistic display so he referred to Hughes as a "Palm Reader" with a quizzical arch to his voice. Ritchie Blackmore was previously recruited as a Contractor to Her Majesty's forces to hunt down this speeding eight ball of groove, and finally caught it using a netting technique described by Chris Goss as an Ozark Bowtie. However, the trail left a gash of burning cheesey positronic disruption that ignited a previous experiment from Dr Orr's lab using DNA harvested from Eddie Van Halen's tongue during his cancer surgery, and the new creature instantly cloned then and there felt a burning hunger. Truly, it was Hot for Pizza. Chaos thus unleashed, as new interdimensional daemons and Angels were being created and destroyed in Nanoseconds, some of which might burn your plans, or might just ignore you for some sidepipin' ( the latter invented a new musical genre by the scraping of their skateboard wheels on Sammy Hagar brand Cabo Wabo tequila bottles- cocknoose bluesgrindcore) . Fortunately, it was precisely at this nexus point of chaotic cacao that The Right Reverend Billy Gibbons restored order by modifying his solo on Gimme all your Lovin, by replacing his legendary Peso pick with a Zloty, and toning it down by saying "Well, ok give me some of your Loving" . Placated,  the spirits and mutants decided to settle down in a small dive bar near Hereford, drinking Strongbow cider, and shouting "Tilts" at the pinball machine in the corner. Incidentally, it's this one.
( I know, I know- really freaking obscure. You didn't laugh once. It helps if you're drinking Wild Turkey and listening to the record)