RALPH D CHAINS

"What can be said about Ralph? Quite a bit! As a young boy, he pounded away on an old typewriter without ink ribbon, harboring the impossible dream of becoming a writer. His family's plan, however, envisioned an unremarkable, dreary career as an electrician, cook, or office worker. The little boy quickly drove his parents to the brink of madness by turning his room into a combination of junkyard and electronics workshop. Even the bed was repurposed as a soldering station.

The not-so-bright idea of sending the seemingly innocent Ralph to a boarding school resulted in him being caught during one of his many shoplifting escapades, along with five roommates! That boarding school experience was swiftly abandoned. But it left its mark. On the way to the cafeteria, where only dismal meals were served, there was a delightful tradition: spitting three times a day on a swastika lovingly painted on a fire hydrant. This anti-fascist mindset continues to shape his journey. Nazis don't fare well in his novels—they must die!

In addition to devouring countless science fiction books and, of course, Stephen King's groundbreaking works, Ralph developed an interest in the gothic style during puberty. And, naturally, goth girls. And, of course, alcohol. Lots of alcohol. His hair was now jet black and spiked upward, and harder music became the soundtrack of his life.

He also developed a unique affinity for nature. But in a rather peculiar way. After indulging in copious amounts of alcohol with his buddy T., they embarked on frequent excursions to a cemetery followed by a nearby hill. Out came the folding spade. Their goal? To unearth one or more human skulls from the cold earth. The hill was the perfect spot for discreetly digging up human bones. Back then, it was common practice to eventually dig graves toward the rear. The bones ended up in a river or with us intrepid hobby archaeologists. Proudly, they carried their macabre trophies home.

In a later radio interview, the two goth heroes boasted about their exploits. The cemetery caretaker didn't take it well. But for the two necromancers, it was a different story. They remained anonymous and received a hefty fifty marks from the radio station for the interview. Plenty of canned beer changed hands.

Did Ralph's potential psychopath tendencies already emerge back then? Probably. And the breeding ground for aspiring psychopaths in the 1980s was undoubtedly the punk scene. Where else could you find more eccentrics and drinkers than among the punks? His black box haircut quickly transformed into a mohawk, and his beloved Bianchi racing bike made way for a bass guitar. The first band was promptly formed and aptly named "Zwecklos" (meaning "pointless") due to obvious talent deficiencies. After several drunken performances, often involving genital or posterior displays, the band fell apart. The bass was sold and quickly converted into beer and drugs.

Writing? Reading? Hardly possible during the subsequent extended phase of human descent into alcoholism, drug use, and homelessness. Sleeping in city parks, abandoned houses, and a charming place called "Stinkloch" (Stinkhole) became Ralph's new norm.

"Washing or working, absolutely taboo. After several years of breeding lice in intimate areas and thoroughly soiling punk clothes, the now matured Ralph settled down before he nearly perished in the gutter. He embarked on the impossible.

He voluntarily sought a job. A bizarre notion.

Without any qualifications, he applied for a part-time position in a pet store and worked in this profession for over ten years. Breeding venomous snakes, poison dart frogs, and tarantulas became one of his hobbies.

He also rediscovered his love for literature. The bite of a venomous snake once again changed his life. When he received the book The Pig by Edward Lee in the hospital, it brought a smile to his otherwise pain-ridden face.

The little boy from back then had awakened once more. The pounding on the typewriter had never completely ceased. Damn it, he still wanted to become a writer. The idea for his first book took shape. Cannibal Holidays was born. Subsequently, he wrote:

Cannibal holidays

The Sodom Lottery

Streets of Love

Sadistic Forest

Cannibal Holidays Reborn

Rabenbruder

Fiction

Sweet Pestilence

Lausige Zeiten

And the little boy from back then still hammers away on the old typewriter...