Allow me to share the true story of Jefferson Pringle, as copy-pasted from my (nearly forgotten) Myspace page:
*NOTE* This story was the result of sleep deprivation and alcohol. I take no responsibility for making your heads explode.
http://www.myspace.com/gameboy415
His story dates back to the year 1935 when Jefferson Pringle came to America with his family to escape the persecution he faced in Mexico. He and his family braved the gulf of Mexico, riding the waves on pieces of their shattered hopes and dreams. The Pringle family washed ashore after 13 days of drifting and, sadly, only Mr Pringle and his youngest daughter survived the ordeal. However, Mr. Pringle's daughter went on to inherit the Pringle corporation. Before that, Mr Pringle had to trade his daughter for a horse that he could ride to the Northern states. She died 3 days later from a 30 hour hoedown in southern Alabama. Upon arriving in southern Illinois, Mr Pringle realised he had forgotten his wallet and began to head back south. However, a deadly snowstorm raged about the area and Mr Pringle was forced to slice open his recently deceased horse with his handy lightsaber and sleep within it to stay alive. 3 days later, Mr Pringle awoke lying naked in a pile of his own waste and vomit. He quickly composed himself and made some make-shift clothes out of the fabric from his car's seats. He then mounted his horse and headed to the south to retrieve his lost keys. Along the way, Mr Pringle discovered his daughter, who was now a beautiful young woman, working with a travelling circus. He brutally murdered everyone involved and forced his daughter back into the sea from whence she had came. She went on to form the Undersea Allegiance and soon died from not being able to breathe underwater. Mr Pringle was at a loss. He could not find his keys, his daughter was starting a women's rights movement, and he was wanted for 13 cases of manslaughter in 18 states. So Mr Pringle did what any other man in his situation would do: Go out with a bang. So he headed to the nearby brothel and proceeded to shoot every "evil seductress" housed within. His rampage was qualmed when he was approached by a young girl scout who calmly said "Please sir! You must stop popping caps in my sisters!" Mr Pringle stared down at her tear-filled eyes and said "I'm sorry sweetheart, but once I pop, I just can't stop". Then congo music blared out of the speakers and everyone began to dance furiously. Mr Pringle began marketing his unique brand of potato chips but, sadly, his soul was imprisoned on the packaging by a gypsy who just happened to be his daughter's daughter. And such is the sad tale of how Pringles gained its legendary spokesman.
*UPDATE* It is written in the ancient scrolls (conveniently available at your local public library) that one the eve of the triple eclipse, the unholy one will rise from his cylindrical prison to feed upon the masses. I can only assume this refers to the mythological being we all know and love and fear and want to be.
Perchance this All-Hallows-Eve we may once again experience the unstoppable wrath that is JEFFERSON PRINGLE.
Hide your children, and for God's sake, STOP shortly after you POP!
the Knicks!! 
