Once, many years ago, four young men with a wealth of ambition decided they would become the best band in the entire universe. They practiced hard. Alone, at home, they worked in front of mirrors, perfecting their stage moves with a frenzied guitar riff here, a backbreaking banshee howl there-all for one purpose. The great purpose. To be the best band there ever was. And they also practiced together-in garages, in warehouses, and finally an empty auditorium. They wanted to sound better than any other band possibly could. They got to know each other musically, familiarizing themselves with the ins and outs of each other’s ability. They paired up, trading riffs until the bond between each member was, some say, almost telepathic. They were doing things no other band had done before. Then they decided to stop covering other people’s material. They decided, sure, they’d keep a few old favorites in the wings-but if they were going to get anywhere, they’d have to write from the heart. And slowly, but surely, they became an incredible band. Then a miracle occurred. A prestigious and powerful figure in the music industry began to hear rumors of this very same band. This figure-who chooses to remain nameless-decided there was only one way to determine if the band was indeed the sensation about which he’d heard so much. He decided to hold a private audition. Said he, of that audition: “Without a doubt, it was better than any other performance I had ever seen. Mark my word-this band will be bigger than the Beatles, Elvis Presley and Dylan. Combined. They’re simply that good.” And on one fateful day, the good news arrived. They were to be signed to a major record label. For an enormous sum. They were, in fact, about to become the massive stars they had always dreamed of. But on their way to the record company, to sign that historic contract and begin their recording career, they were all-each and every one of them-hit by a bus and tragically killed. So we decided to make this web site for 7 Day Weekend instead.