We The Cats Shall Hep You

Hep?

Get with it, daddios. Hep is hipper than hip. It’s in the pocket. It’s straight from the fridge. It’s copacetic. It’s the new Trudeau HepCat, our Son of a Beach(cat). Reap this righteous riff, this is one crazy SOB.

Instructions:

  1.  Raise sails.
  2. Hang the hell on to something!

Dig:

  • Flat ain’t where it’s at. HepCat’s sails, more curves than a Jayne Mansfield film fest. Bunnie Mills, Trudeau sail boss, is one wrascally wrabbit!
  • The tramp is no lady. Nor is it a bindle-stiff. It’s a stage for skipper and crew to make sweet music upon, so blow, Roy, blow.  Or play it solo. 4 positions per side. Hiking straps.  Keep cool though, too much bouncing around on this tramp will upset HepCat’s balance with clinkers and put the kibosh on your speed.
  • No kick from champagne. But plenty of kick from these rudders – HepCat turns on a dime. And a kick up… handy for sailing up on the beach, over ramps and other screwy exhibitions. Down… they can be a real drag, man. Up… not so much. Not much help in steering either. But don’t sweat it, you’ll be the wiser in no time.
  • Circus act. We don’t dig jive clowns. But a high wire? Solid. HepCat has trapezes for all you daring young men (and women). If they asked if you were moving, tell them you were flyin’!
  •  Wig out. Or as the L7s call it, capsize. Hot dog it too much and you’ll get the bum’s rush into the drink. Don’t have a kitten though, moor HepCat and you’ll be sittin’ pretty again in no time.
  • HepCat is lousy with sail choices. And for you egghead longhairs, all of them historically correct.

Glad rags to deck your cat out in:

Sails(2.5MB)
Hull (360K)
Trampoline (7.8MB)
Misc Parts (1.6MB)

Beach Cat Beach has gone Hep. Make the scene and dig the righteous Cats (cut a demo too!).

That’s the rap. Don’t be a chump, get Hep.

Go, Cab, Go!


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