Metalocalypse Fanfiction

Juke Box Hero
Chapter 1

A gift for a friend, and one that I am semi-proud enough of to post. Might finish it, might not, depends on how many people like it to make it worthy enough even though I already started a second chapter. *chuckles* Anyway I don't think it's my best work but here we go anyway posting it since there isn't much here yet;

Pairings; TonyxPickles
Much Later: CharlesxPickles (and maybe others)

Description: Pickles a little Runaway from home finally catches his break when he meets his soon-to-be hero and savior; Tony, and eventually catches a big break when introduced into Snakes N Barrels.

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The sound of the heavy rain echoed along the desolate streets of the night. Besides the occasional howl of the wind and the steady splish and splatter of the downpour against the streets, nothing else moved. It was almost as if time itself had ceased to flow in the little dark nameless town in Indiana, but this- was only an illusion.

Everyone was simply- gone.

To the edge of the town- all the locals and even people from out of state, all had gathered in the brand new beautiful shimmering coliseum to watch a VERY special concert. It was a once in a lifetime experience for such a tiny unknown place. They all had crowded around and inside the building the best they could. The wonderfully glorious coliseum seemed just about ready to burst at the seams and over flow with the writhing bodies of the rabid fans.

Guns N' Roses had rolled into town.

However, not everyone was lucky enough to get a ticket to see the show. The unlucky ones that had waited too long to grab their ticket for the sold out show had to sit and wait in the rain, hoping that maybe, just maybe, someone would come around offering them a ticket or two. However, when they realized that there was no hope for them- they had finally decided to head home to get out of their wet clothes, eat a nice warm meal, and mope around in their pajamas.

All except one.

A teenager with long messy drenched redhair stood against the building with his head hung low, green eyes clenched shut as the rain beat down on him mercilessly. His ears could just barely make out the roar of the crowd- and just like any other fan that had been left out in the rain, his mind began to imagine what it was like in there with the crowd. Out of the rain and in the protection of the walls and roof, Axl Rose was stepping up to the microphone, getting ready to sing.

All of the redhead’s saved money would have been worth spending it all just to see him and his band! The male pushed his ear to the wall, body shivering from the even colder touch of the brick trying to see if he could possibly make out any sound, ears straining for anything, absolutely anything- and that's when he heard it... for the first time, actually in PERSON, he heard it. The scream-

Of one guitar.

Just barely into “Welcome to the Jungle”.

The young male tried his best to not show his shock and awe at the beautiful sound striking his ears but his gawking mouth didn't really help. He couldn't help but to try and lean his head even harder against the wall. It was amazing how beautiful that sound was in person-! ...

Fiery green eyes suddenly went wide- a soft smirk covering his face as a slippery idea ran through the redhead's mind… He could totally do this. He could become one of them- and make millions! In fact, just at the thought he already had song ideas rushing through his head, it was perfect! But, he was missing something, something very crucial to a musical career...

He needed an instrument.

The young male glanced around pulling himself away from the hypnotic music a little bit remorsefully before his eyes rested on a closed secondhand store- you could almost see the stars forming in his excited gaze. The teenager decided that maybe he'd have to pay the owner of the little rundown shop a bit of a visit tomorrow and use whatever money he had managed to save up and NOT spend on those tickets, for a nice guitar. Even though he would have to learn how to play it himself, this didn’t seem to put a damper on his determination. After all, he didn't exactly have enough money for his own personal teacher, but that didn’t matter. As long as you practiced, the only way you had to go was up, right?

Too excited and moved by the concert to stay and listen, not to mention, he WAS getting a bit sick of being weighed down by water in his own clothing, the male sprinted back to his 'home' in the rain- that smirk still clear on his face, green eyes still blazing with that hidden passion. He slipped into the back of the hotel he had been staying at using his brother's driver's license to be able to rent a room. After all, that douchebag could always get another license- and didn’t even deserve it. Even though the staff knew that he wasn't Seth- money WAS money and they had decided to overlook it. For now anyway, until the head manager of the place caught him- which the male was sure would never happen. After all, he had outsmarted the yuppie this entire time by sneaking in and out of the back, what were the chances of him getting caught now? The teenager was over confident in himself.
"Good evening, Pickles."

The redhead's gaze shot from the door of his room to the janitor, long drenched hair covering one of his wide green eyes. Excuses, one after another ran through his head. Pickles would go out kicking and screaming if that meant he could stay for a few minutes longer. He had JUST gotten into the hotel looking forward to a nice long hot shower and warm meal; there was NO way in hell he was going to give that up without a fight!

Yet the moment he went to open his mouth to say something- he realized exactly who had called his name and instantly relaxed. A soft playful smile replacing the sudden fear and shock. It was JUST the janitor who, on more than one occasion, had caught Pickles sneaking in and out of the hotel but been nice enough to keep his mouth shut. In a way, you could say, that they were sort of friends. Kind of.

"Hey dere Lary! Ets ah, kinda cold an' rainy out dere, isn't et?" He spoke with a light tone yet heavy Midwestern accent. The Janitor only nodded in return and continued his work on the floors, paying the young male, Pickles, no more attention as he slid into his room, closing the door behind him. Pickles headed straight for the showers realizing just from that little scare, he had taken the nice advantage for granted and planned on staying in there for a while. Wash the dirty rain of his pale freckled skin.

Once out of the shower, Pickles slid over to his tiny little suitcase- if you could even call it that and opened it up. His eyes roamed around the contents of the bag; a few torn up shirts, ripped up faded jeans from age, a few pairs of boxers, nothing exactly special. Well, ignoring the little bundle of cash hidden up underneath his tattered clothes. He reached down, clenching his towel around his waist so it didn’t fall off, and actually dug out an old black and silver short sleeved t-shirt. It’s sleeves were almost torn completely off, the bottom of the shirt look like it had gone through the lawn mower and it had very few holes in it- yet, this was the best he had thus far that was actually clean. Pickles inspected the shirt one last time before laying it on the dresser along with the dry pair of jeans in his suitcase, a wave of tiredness wrapping itself around him forcing out a yawn. The young male made his way to the bed and plopped down on it, sprawling himself out on the comforter, towel and all. Even though he wasn't exactly much, just a little runaway from Wisconsin, he could still try to look his best for tomorrow, after all, it would be his first day of being a proud guitar owner.

Finally, unable to hold his eyes open anymore- Pickles drifted off to an actual peaceful sleep.

The Next Day...

"Dood, es dis like, da best yew guys ghat?"

"The best someone like you could probably afford." Came a snobbish reply from the man behind the counter who was CLEARLY judging Pickles over his too long of a pointed nose, just by his rough appearance. The wannabe rockstar crossed his arms and shot the blond behind the counter a dangerous green eyed glare, his foot tapping impatiently. Hey, he was a fucking paying customer- didn't he deserve to get treated with respect too? His clothes might have been torn.... and his hair completely in a mess... but the green wad of cash in his hand should have spoken for him! The pissed off redhead was almost ready to pounce on the asshole. After all, the minute he had walked in the cashier had been trying to shoo him out like some kind of infected dog has stepped into the store.

"Bastard." Pickles growled lowly.

"What did you just call me?!" Snapped the male back, clearly what the younger male had said ticking him off enough to have HIM almost ready to pounce. But, Pickles would have gladly accepted the challenge too- it would have been nice to slam such a snob on the floor and get in a few punches before being arrested. "Get the hell out of my store, filthy scumbag!"

"Make me, yuppie!" Snapped the redhead right back, backing up and standing his ground, still giving the cashier a dirty eat-shit look. It was clear that the kid was going nowhere until he finally got what he wanted- which was that nice- well kind of- old six string guitar in the back that he had noticed the moment he walked into the store. Pickles hadn't exactly thought that the process was going to be THIS difficult and yet, here he was picking a fight with the dweeb behind the counter. How could he not? With the cruel judging stare and then the guy acting like he was a complete idiot, who wouldn’t want to pick a fight- or as Pickles liked to call it “defend” themselves against him?

Just as the elder was coming around the counter- probably to drag him by the hair to get the teenager out of the store as Pickles had demanded him do- someone came around the corner and stopped him in his tracks. Pickles followed the gaze of the cashier to see what exactly was stopping him- and suddenly all fight fell from his face. Obviously by the sudden innocent look crossing the yuppie's face- this was the actual owner of the store that had come out after hearing all the ruckus the two of them had been causing. He was a tall, big built, African American man, but the gentle smile on his face showed that he held no malice toward Pickles unlike the other. Apparently HE seemed to understand the general rules of a store; the customer was always right.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"This dickhead won't give me ah guitar!" Pickles quickly growled, beating the blond cashier before he could even THINK about answering. For a moment the owner seemed baffled by the redhead's quick temper and reply, but ever so slowly, he nodded as if he completely understood the whole situation without either one of them having to explain themselves.

"I'm sorry about that, after all, you are a paying customer. For all your troubles, please, choose any guitar you'd like, we have this Jazz-"

"No! Like dood, aye want DAT one!" Pickles pointed toward the behind the desk of where the cashier stood- it was that same old beat up six string and yet, it still looked to be in decent enough shape, he had been eying since the moment he walked in. After all, he could still see 'Gibson' etched on the side, and that WAS brand named. After a few more careful moments of consideration- and looking Pickles up and down with a furrowed brow, finally the owner nodded. As promised he motioned for the cashier to hand the young male his guitar. Though before the elder male could move to actually HAND it to the teenager the moment he went behind the counter to get it, Pickles was on him. He had followed the blond behind the counter and the moment it was least expected he had snatched the guitar quickly out of his hands, but instead of backing off there- he decided to get in a few good blows for causing so many problems. He gave the cashier one nice kick to the knee which brought him down low enough for Pickles to be able to sink his own knee deep into the other males crotch, forcing the male to fall face first into the floor. Just to add insult to injury the redhead leaned down and snickered in his ear.

“Go back ta customer service school, yew dickhead.”

With that he quickly backed up away from the cashier and went running toward the counter, leaping up on it and sliding across it to land on the other side of it with grace, a smirk on his face. He casted a quick glance toward the owner of the store to catch the horrified look on his face before he waved goodbye and shot toward the door, using his short legs to gain a great distance in a quick amount of time. A now playful look in his green eyes before he shot out the door, calling back behind him.

"Thanks fer da guitar~!"

Once he was far enough from the shop to where he was sure if they came looking for him that he wouldn't be found, Pickles finally slowed down, making sure to take his time and get a good look at his surroundings to help him find his way back 'home'. He was in a semi-decent in the part of the small town, maybe a bit more... expensive part. Which wasn't necessarily a good or bad thing, this could mean he would either get ignored since all yuppies were egoistical bastards or because he was the only beat-up looking kid there, he just might get sympathy and at this point he needed the money because in a few days he would be out from the cost of the hotel, so he would allow the sympathy- for now.

Pickles went to grab a random soggy box on the ground that happen to run across his vision; it was small enough to where if people wanted they could put tips in. It was the perfect size- but the moment his hand wrapped around it, the box tore right in half. "Ah, what?! Yew've gatta be kiddin' me, dat was da only one in site too..." The poor teenager groaned throwing what remained of it away, wiping his wet hands on his shirt to try and dry them off. Green eyes once again scoped out the area in search of something to use to put tips in- and grinned when his eyes fell upon something in the middle of the street. A hat, no, better yet, a top hat! It was nice, black with a green band around the middle of it- and it didn't even look THAT wet if wet at all. Eagerly the redhead darted into the street and grabbed the hat with hsi free hand- but right as he was picking it up a car was hurdling toward his direction. By the time the driver had honked his horn he was a bit too close for the kid to dodge- and petrified- it didn't help that Pickles stood there like a deer in front of head lights. Car wheels squealed against the wet ground- the male shut his eyes bracing himself for the impact-

Another loud honk rang in his ears, even louder than before.

He blinked open his eyes startled- and right in front of him was the hood of a car, only mere inches from his body. Pickles took a deep breath, clasping his chest trying to calm his frantic heart. Yet he didn't have too much time to recover- for a very nice professional looking man began hollering insults at him- threatening that if he didn't move out of the front of his car that he would plow him down and that he shouldn't play in the middle of the streets.

"What, do you have a death wish?!"

"Learn ta drive an' nhat speed, an maybe yew wouldn't have a problem with possibly hittin' other people!" The defiant teenager snapped back- but when he heard the engine rev up- all his cockiness faded away and quickly he hoped out of the way of the car, muttering a soft curse beneath his breath as the driver flipped him off and sped off down the road. Pickles snorted as he walked back toward the side of the street- eying the hat in front of him with a soft grin.

"Yew caused me a lhat of problems taday- bhat it was so totally worth it, yet definitely a keeper!" He began to walk back down the sidewalk, suddenly believing that, that place wasn't exactly the best place to be at now, that maybe he should find a different place to practice and hopefully get tips that way. So a few blocks down from where his near-death experience had been, he plopped down- yelping the moment he realized he had plopped down in a puddle full of water.

"FACK! Are yew kidding me?! Stupid fackin' puddles!"

Yet no amount of cursing could help him now. The bottom of his only pair of jeans left were drenched, almost as if he had wet himself. What an embarrassment- so deciding that now it was too late- he plopped down beside the puddle, almost moping to himself. Yet the longer he sat there, the more and more he began to realize that over all the bad that has happened- today was actually a really pretty day outside.

Pickles took a deep breath of the fresh warm air surrounding him. He ADORED the smell right after it rained. It smelt so clean and pure. The sun was beating down on him high in the sky, not to hot, not too cold. The soft gentle breeze caressing his skin making it JUST right. The sun was bouncing off the water making it shimmer- everything seemed just perfect. This was the right spot to begin his onslaught of learning the guitar and forget his woes of the day. He sat down the hat in front of him, preparing himself to begin.

Pickles held the instrument in his hands very close to his chest. For a moment he struggled, finding it suddenly a bit awkward to hold, at least that way. A few trial and errors later- and the flip flopping of the poor old guitar, finally, he had it situated right where it needed to be and to Pickles- it good in his hands. Like this was just something he was meant to do but couldn't exactly do until he broke away from home. This was the sign of a new start, a new beginning and it all it took, was learning this beautiful guitar.

With a deep breath the redhead strummed on it for the first time- the sound it making sending shivers up his spine and making him giggle a bit to himself. This was just.. absolutely perfect. Obviously this guitar was no electric guitar as Guns N' Roses had been, but it was close enough. To him, it was just as pretty in its own little way. Pickles tried it again as he held down a chord- listening to the different sound it made each time he held down one of the six strings. The teenager didn't know it, but for quiet a few hours he had sat there messing around with it, learning each different note, not by name, but by sound and even had his own little interesting rhythm going. At least, when he managed to play it right. And every time he did he would chuckle to himself with excitement trying to figure out what he should add to it next to make it sound even better. People waltzed by him, paying him no mind either going to their own job, or to the market, or just wanting to lounge around on the beautiful day. Everyone was in high spirits after the concert from last night.

Though as even more hours passed of him practicing away, the poor teenager's legs grew restless and so he had been forced to learn how to try and play the guitar as he moved and paced around. Many times the poor redhead found himself running into the brick walls of the building behind him, landing a few good bruises and marks on his head-. But the more he practiced the more and more he seemed to get better at least... he wasn't hitting the wall as much. (for every wall he hit though, he got a five dollar bill, how generous!) But that didn't mean the pain still hurt and was starting to give him a terrible headache.

Slowly the bright beautiful sun began to set and give rise to the glowing moon in the distance, stars began to sparkle in the sky in certain places- and before he knew it the sky was suddenly shrouded in beautiful shades of oranges, pinks, and reds. The signs of twilight fast approaching against the shimmering liquid in the street. Valley people came and went on passed the poor little redhead still. Finally some stopped to listen while others walked on by though none had said a single word. Not a SINGLE word of encouragement or praise even though Pickles had managed to learn quiet a bit from the time he had actually managed to get his grubby little paws on the guitar until now. Even though he didn't exactly what he was playing, it was clear that he had some kind of talent, there just, wasn't a word for it yet. The tiny three person crowd gathered around him now was proof enough. All of them appeared to be the normal yuppies that had been passing him by all day- but ONE in particular caught his attention.

The male couldn't have been a yuppie himself- with his eggplant colored purplish black hair and facial hair- he just looked totally- unprofessional.

Though Pickles didn't question exactly who this strangely dressed mysterious man was, after all, he had just thrown a ten into the hat. Who the hell would complain about a person that had given him such a generous tip compared to everyone else that day? Though the longer he played, well, if you could even call it that, the more and more the other two seemed to get antsy and leave, leaving only two ones in the hat a piece. The other male continued to stay and listen until the redhead had used up ALL his material on the guy. Why the hell did he stay? It made Pickles nervous- he shot him a cautious glare.

"Yew want more-? Put another ten in dere." It was a simple ballsy demand as he pointed toward the hat. The elder man only gave him a soft smile. The grin on his face only making Pickles a bit more nervous- just who the hell WAS this guy? What did he want? Why did he stay there so long? .... he wasn't going to ask for anything OTHER then another song, was he? If so, the teenager could understand why he put a ten in there and he wasn't ever going to do something like THAT again. Ugh, just the thought made him shudder.

"Ya got talent and balls, I like that, not many have either now-a-days. It's respectable, unfortunately for you, I don't have any more money on me, but if I did, I would." He replied simply a soft laugh in his low and quiet voice. Pickles didn't say anything to this, he could only sit there and continue to stare at the strange male with the different colored hair. Was his hair naturally like that? And those muscles... he could see them through the thin shirt that he was wearing, probably because it was such a cool day. Once again though, Pickles' mind wondered to what he could want- and so far, it sounded like trouble.

"Yea, an'? Whats et ta yew?" Pickles snapped his fists clenching slightly. The other male could sense the dangerousness lurking behind the teenager in front of him and instantly began to understand why he was being so distant and cold- so nervous. Did the kid actually believe that he-? It was hard to fight back the laughter bubbling up in the back of his throat. Did he LOOK like that type of guy? He knew he had to break the conversation and make the kid feel a bit easier. Maybe a nice introduction would help? After all, it was the general ice breaker- but on the flip side, the kid didn't seem interested in people either.

"Oh, I meant nothing by it. Just, you know, keep on rocking." And with that the mysterious stranger turned his back on Pickles and began to leave. Just as the teenager was letting out a sigh of relief- he suddenly turned back around. "Oh, and by the way? That hat is mine." It was a playful but serious remark, his gray-blue eyes shining with laughter.

"Oh yea? Well, tough luck. Yew aren't gettin' et back, aye almost died fer da damn thing." He snorted, though, seeming to loosen up just a bit a slight smile on his own face. Maybe the guy didn't have such bad intentions.

"Oh? Well, that's quiet alright, personally? I think it'll look a lot better on you anyway, kid. You seem like the rocker type."

"Eh?"

"Yeah, so, keep it."

For some odd reason, that gentle smile on his face, the way he was looking at him, the way he had said that, Pickles felt his heart speed up a bit, a soft flush sliding across his cheeks. For once he didn't have anything else to say to the male, his tongue felt a bit swollen and thick in his mouth. He couldn't explain what was going on, but, it was something he had never felt before. But before the redhead could get any other words out of his throat, the man was turning to leave again. His long hair swishing behind him. The moment he was out of eye sight the redhead slowly began to relax his heart slowing down in his chest just slightly. That was definitely enough excitement for one day. He deserved a nice shower, a bite of what remained of his small meal from yesterday, and sleep. A LOT of sleep since he would be right back out in the same spot tomorrow morning doing the same exact thing. Early too. Maybe, around six? That sounded good.

Packing up his things he began the long trek back toward the hotel, his mind still reeling about that strange nameless man he had met. It almost seemed like a bit of regret had began to form in the center of his stomach- he should have asked for his name. Then maybe he would have increased the chances of him coming back to see him play again.

"Wait-!"

Pickles stopped himself in mid-step, green eyes growing wide when he realized where his thoughts were heading. "Why da hell should aye care whether or nhat he comes back?! What da hell has ghatten inta yew, Pickles? So what ef he let ya keep da hat and gave yew a ten dallar bill, et's nhat like he was gettin' either of them back! He's jhast, a nice stranger." That you may never see again...

Pickles shook his head growling at himself as he began his brisk walk back home once more. He needed some sleep, that's all this was. He was delirious from being so tired. That's why he was thinking such strange thoughts and wanting to see the male again for some odd reason. Even though he was completely in denial- even when he finally made it back to the hotel and ate, laying back in bed and fell asleep.

Even when he dreamed of that smile.

ConfusionKlok
Chapter 1

Yep. Old RP between a friend of mine and me. I don't remember too much about it besides it's freaking fantastic and full of all sorts of pairings- a lot of them revolving around Toki. But, that's it. More chapters to come once I can convert more of the RP into Fanfiction.

Pairings: SkwisgaarxToki, NathanxToki, etc.

Description: Toki somehow manages to get everyone in the band, besides Murderface, confused about their orientation involving each other, and things just aren't staying as simple as they used to be at Mordhaus.

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Murderface laid himself lazily against the couch, his eyes glaring toward the ground, glowing with anger and hatred. Now while he always seemed to walk around and portray that wherever he went for some odd reason today seemed to be his worst. Something had clearly pissed him off as he dug the blade of his knife deep into the arm of the couch ripping out the stuffing with one cruel thrust in and out. The rest of the band seemed a little on edge as well as they sat almost in a crudely shaped circle around the 'living room' trying to ignore the same sound that had pissed the bassist off. The sound of Toki's guitar echoed off the walls in clear and prestige tones and riffs- too clean to be Toki's playing but considering Skiwsgaar was there plucking at his guitar like usual-

"Hey, have you guys noticed something about Toki lately? He seems to be practicing a lot more then usual.." Murderface glanced over toward Skwisgaar catching the annoyed icy blue gaze flicked in his direction. The bassist snickered suddenly toward the long haired, blond headed, lead guitarist and spoke directly to him, challenging the dethglare. "Actually, he just might replace you one day, Skwisgaar!"

"Pfft." Skwisgaar shot Murderface his signature "Ams you serious?" look, but secretly he was struggling to listen in on Toki's guitar playing... Just in case. "Ja, maybes in likes millions billions years! He still dildos."

The conversation between the two had seemed to caught the lead singer's attention. His dark night black hair covered his eyes as he glanced toward the ground not wanting to get involved with the conversation between the two. He had heard it all before and as usual history was about to repeat itself at Mordhaus- his chest rumbled with a low grumble. What a pain.

Pickles however, seemed to have a little more to say to the conversation not having learned his lesson from the first couple of rounds. After all, he was already on his second- third? No.. fifth martini and it was only the beginning of the day. But you could you truly blame the red headed Irish drummer? He had to deal with THIS on daily occasions.

"Ya know maybe Murderface is right. Aye mean dood, when does Toki ever practice?" He shot a crooked grin before taking another sip of his cold drink not realizing that he had just started a fire between the two. Maybe he had done it on purpose for his own entertainment, I mean, it was pretty damn boring around there.

"See? Pickles thinks I'm right!" The over excited bassist snorts. "But seriously, Skwisgaar, I'd be worried if I were you. He sounds like he is improving quite a bit not to mention playing all fucking night." Though his excitement flared out back into that same old Murderface anger as he growled out "While I don't mind that he is practicing for ONCE, I do mind him interrupting my sleep!"

Skwisgaar's glare softened to an almost monotone look as the licks Toki played started to sound familiar. Was he the only one who noticed? Maybe it was just his imagination but still- "He ams probably just...copies me again." His words lacked his usual sarcastic tone. It was out of character for the Swede. What was running through his mind?

Nathan couldn't help but mutter out in his usual uncaring tone, trying to stop the others from bickering. He wasn't really in the mood to babysit today. "Hnn...probably better he practices..for the band and uhnn..whatever."

Suddenly the little brown haired young rhythm guitarist was in front of them, a scowl covering his usually happy face. He had made sure to practice a little bit more before he had decided to show himself to the rest of the band- the up and challenge the Swede in front of everyone. Determination rang out in his voice clear like the fire in his blue eyes.

"Swisgaars! I DARES you to finds ONE just one things wrong with this!" He took a deep breath for a moment making sure he had it all down as he ignored his bloody, blistered, and throbbing fingers as he rubbed them on his pants. He didn't want the blood to cause him to slip on a chord like they had managed to do previous. Then before anyone could prepare themselves for the dual, he began to ring out each and every part that Skwisgaar played in "Cyborg Slayers" hell bent determined that it would be absolutely perfect.

The band couldn't help but to sit and stare in a stunned silence, amazed at what their little Toki had taught himself to do. It was amazing why with a little practice it was if he had became someone COMPLETELY different!

Skwisgaar's expression was his typical narcissistic look from the challenge. He was eager for Toki to finish just so he could once again rub Toki's flaws in his face, it was his favorite pastime, but as the rhythm guitarist continued on without a single flaw the smug look sloly began to fade until his bright blue eyes were wide and filled with- fear?

Pickles on the other hand was listening closely to the licks of Skwisgaar being played by Toki and it sent him into a fit of chuckles. He was in some strange way, enjoying how the fast notes made his head spin. His feet started to play the imaginary pedals of his imaginary drum set as he let out a long drunken "Woooooah."

Toki on the other hand hadn't seemed to notice any of them. His concentration was focused on his guitar and fingers in front of him. Sweat broke out over his forehead from his concentration- he couldn't screw up! Not now, not whenever he had been practicing for so long so hard to show up Skwisgaar and prove he could be just as good as the Swede! Finally, the song slowly began to draw to an end, excitement gleamed on the Norwegian's face. He had managed to nail it without a single flaw. Wowee! I.. I actuallys did its...! With a smug look on his face Toki faced Skwisgaar. "So, Skwisgaars? Yous thinks yous so greats, your nots the only ones now!"

When the silence of the room after Toki finished hit him the Swede felt his face going hot and his nerves skyrocketing. He could feel his four band mates waiting for whatever smart remark the guitarist would have. He ALWAYS had something to say. ALWAYS.

"...It...ams..." His eyes nervously dart from the other band members before settling once again on Toki, the second fastest guitarist, and so clearly now, Skwisgaar's biggest threat. The nerves in his stomach suddenly turned to anger and his smart mouth returned. "I-It am just provins how you can nevers do your owns guitars solos! Amments capables of creating your own always copies me!"

Toki felt the happiness and high of finally being as fast as Skwisgaar fade off his features suddenly turning into hurt- then anger.

"Fuck you Skwisgaar!" He growled lowly. "Yous just nervous abouts me! I could sees it in that smugs apperence! But fines, you wants more? I'll gives you more. I'll creates my OWN guitars solo. Will that be goods enough for you then, Skwisgaar?! I'll beats you one day and thens take your spots as lead guitarists and records over YOUR parts, how does thats feel? I'm getting sicks of you constantly putting me downs! Can't yous ever gives me any kinds of compliment insteads of always tearings me down?" He suddenly went to grab the Swede's shirt but the second his raw and actually infected fingers go to grab it, he cringed and pulled his hand away as if he had been shocked. "Ow!" This forced the young guitarist to pause glancing down at his fingers. Angry? tears began to form in his eyes. "The wars has begun Skwisgaar, I hopes you ams readys!"

The deadly silence in the room was suddenly broken by a wide eyed Murderface clearly referring to the rest of the band.

"When did Toki learn how to grow a pair of balls?"

The Swede kept his glare, despite the very obvious fact that Toki is fully capable of beating the shit out of all the members of Dethklok...With the exception of Nathan of course. The fact was Skwisgaar was just far too stubborn to stand down, and his pride had to have the last word in everything. His lips curled as he went to hiss back his own insults, but instead let out a strange little squeak when the Norwegian grabbed hold of his shirt. Glancing down just as Toki cried out and pulled his hands away he saw the very noticeable infection spreading on his overused fingers. Leave it to Toki to get carried away. Instead of showing any sign of concern the Swede instead wrinkled his nose in clear disgust that the infected finger had been so close to his body. And yet we know worse had touched him in the bedroom. Nathan also caught a glance of Toki's fingers. "Brutal! What the fuck's wrong with your fingers Toki?"

That caused the rest of the band to look at Toki's fingers. Pickles, despite being VERY Irish, seemed to pale a whole shade before turning a bit green under the eyes. "Aye...Aye dink aye can smell it.aye...aye gotta lay down."

Toki hid his fingers behind his back and shook his head. "Nothings, nothings is wrongs with my fingers! They ares like any normals fingers!" Even though Toki knew by the sharp pain something was obviously wrong. Murderface wrinkled his nose and looked away when he had caught glimpse of his other band mate's fingers. "Dude, I think you should have those looked at." Toki shook his head quickly.

"Nos! Nos! Only gay dildos goes to the doctors! I needs to write my own solos, I needs to beat Skwisgaars!" Murderface shrugged uncaringly. Why should he care what happened to Toki?

"And... and anyways this isn't abouts my fingers! This is abouts me beatings Skwisgaar!" He looked over at the Swedish bastard and glared. Toki had been drinking (and natrually, going a bit over board with it as well) while he had been practicing. It was clear how he couldn't seem to stand up straight for too long without swaying, it had been something to give him confidence and courage to finally stand up to his long term bully. If Skwisgaar had made one more snide commit, Toki probably wouldn't have hesitated to punch him as hard as he could to make up for all the times he dealt with his shit.

As the conversation progressed the blond merely frowned and rolled his eyes. "Little Tokis thinks he ams betters than me, has yous forgottens that withouts me you amments even bes in de band!" That was true, without a guitarist there would be no rhythm guitarist, that and without the rhythm guitarist the songs just didn't song as...brutal. Something Skwisgaar had actually mentioned when Magnus was kicked out of the band. Try getting him to admit that now. At the harsh reminder Skwisgaar made Nathan turned to the drummer, after pushing him off and regaining his personal space. Apparently when Pickles went to lay down he forgot that he wasn't the only one on the couch and literally tried to drape himself over Nathan. The harsh shove seemed to bring him back to reality...Just a little bit. Nathan then grumbled a comment about Skwisgaar to Pickles despite the fact that anyone in the room would be able to hear it.

"Wow what a dick..." It was the blond's turn to growl, and finally he stood from the couch happy with his height advantage over Toki, reassuring himself as he continued to argue.

"Even withouts yours infexded fingurs you'll nevers be betters than mes, Tokis! Steps aside!" He ordered as he walked right past the Norwegian. Their usual sitting room was becoming pretty claustrophobic, and Skwisgaar needed some space AND air after being confronted by Toki. He was sure to bring his Gibson with him.

"Stops ordering mes around Skwisgaar! I'm nots yours to controls!" Toki snarled. He spun around and grabbed Skwisgaar's arm - ignoring the pain- yanking him so they were face to face. The younger member's eyes narrowed and he balled up his fist only to throw a punch right into Skwisgaar's cheek seconds later not giving him any time to react. Toki made sure to put all of his strength into that first hit so he could grab his attention. "I'ms done taking orders from you, Skwisgaar, you're nots the kings of this band, I ams just as importants as yous!" His usually soft voice echoed around the room, sounding terrifyingly dark and cruel.

Murderface watched Toki nail Skwisgaar and sucked in a breath. It wasn't like this was the first time him and the Swede had gotten into it, but physically he could tell that Toki wasn't going to hold back, which meant this one was going to turn ugly, fast. Memories from the Snakes and Barrels concert had managed to make their way into the bass players head, reminding him that Toki may seem frail, but once pissed off he could kill just like the rest of them. That poor fan had it coming, and he even had turned on Murderface as if he was about to attack him. So would he take a chance and get into the middle of this fight?

"Hell no!" He snorted to himself and looked at Nathan and Pickles with a curious look on his face as if asking "are any one of you going to break this up? 'Cause I'm not." Even though he probably knew the answer to the question already. Though the brawl would be fun and entertaining to watch- as long as neither of them got seriously injured.

Skwisgaar was satisfied to get the last word in (or so he thought) and planned on fleeing right back to his room to get in some of his own practice and prove to Toki and mostly himself why the title of lead guitarist was HIS. He'd be damned before letting that damned Norwegian take it away right before his eyes. However that plan didn't happen, and before he knew what was happening he was stumbling backwards when Toki grabbed him. His blue eyes widening in surprised before squeezing shut tightly when the first hit was nailed. Toki NEVER hit him before, let alone that -riff-ing hard! Even that one time in stage before the whole Twinkletits episode Toki had gotten into a fight (or tried to) with everyone but Skwisgaar. Not only did Toki's actions knock the Swede on his ass, but damn did that punch knock him on his ass! It was hard enough that his sight blurred long enough for him to stumble again, his long legs tangling with each other and causing him to fumbled backwards. Luckily he fell back into a little table and was saved from being knocked completely to the floor.

There was a "OOOOOH!" moment between the rest of the band, and at Murderface's question Nathan grunted out a clear NO. Pickles, being the considerate one, gave a sigh before speaking up.

"Okey guys! Jhast cool it, ah-right? We can all-" Pickles was interupted by an infuriated Scandinavian howl coming from the Swede himself. As soon as Skwisgaar's sight leveled out and the throbbing in his jaw shot up to his head he saw a flash of red and before he knew what he was doing he yelled out and dove right for Toki. He was still a little dizzy and miscalculated his leap, but luckly managed to collide with Toki's lower half. Most likely due to the liquor in Toki's system managed to knock him to the ground. With that moment of having the advantage Skwisgaar grabbed a handful of brown hair as he contemplated where to return the punch. "...tusan också!" best bet was the face! And so he gave Toki a slug.

Toki had been caught off guard by the sound of Pickles voice trying to talk to two out of the fight. He had just barely began to turn around to face Pickles with a yell from Skwisgaar caught his attention- but it was too late. By the time he had spun around to defend himself he felt the breath leave his lungs as the Swede collided with him. Already slightly off balance from the alcohol Toki was thrown to the ground with ease leaving him gasping for air from the impact. Before he had time to recover from the pain Skwisgaar was ontop of him again this time grabbing his hair- which was actually painful as hell- before nailing him one good time in the face. Toki let out a small cry from the sharp pain that came with the blow. It left him seeing stars for a moment- for he wasn't used to getting into any kind of physical brawls, much less getting assulted himself. But he wasn't going to let his bully get the better of him. After all, he started the fight, he needed to end it to prove to the guitar player that he could be just as good as the other. Then again the alcohol in his system was playing against him- it took him a bit to regain himself. But once he recovered he let out a short growl.

"That fuckings hurt, Skwisgaar you dildo!" Toki's hand shot up and grabbed a huge clump of the swede's long blond hair before yanking on it as rough as he could, trying to yank him off before lifting up his head to headbutt Skiwsgaar in the stomach with all his might hoping to knock the air out of him like Skwisgaar did to Toki moments ago. The minute he would get Skwisgaar down- he was going to beat the shit out of him. Toki could tell by the throbbing in his head and eye that he was for sure going to devolpe a black eye later on.

Murderface watched as the fight went on, half tempted to make some popcorn and watch. He had been right, it was very entertaining. It beat the boredom around their home with ease. Though then again by the way things were looking it was about to get even worse- around Tokis eye had already begun to swell. Just how bad was it going to get before one of them had to step in to stop them? ... "I hope never." Murderface snickered before yelling "Kick his ass, Skwisgaar, come on, you're going to let some kid beat you up?" He grinned. Edging on the fight, now THAT is fun. Though the deth (pun!) glare he received from Toki shut him up instead of continuing to cheer the Swede on.

"FUCKS YOU!" Was all he could think to shout back just as his hair was grabbed, causing blond locks to wildly cover his face as it cringed his pain. He grinded his teeth together and even though he was at an awkward position on top of the Norwegian he managed to dig his boot into the floor and stubbornly stay ontop the other. He too had been there at the Snakes n Barrels reunion, and wasn't tempted to play role reversal right now. However the headbutt fulfilled its purpose; the Swede wheezed and shrunk back, but couldn't let the opportunity slip past and wrapped an arm around Toki's now exposed neck. A quick change of position and Skwisgaar felt he was trying to imitate the stupid Americans fake wrestling moves, and doing an awkward job of it. He could TRY to choke Toki out, but he just wasn't so lucky.

Murderface's brief cheers made him feel a little daring, so he began to pound the side of his fist on Toki's back. Murderface was right, again, watching the two Scandinavians go at each others throats WAS entertaining, especially for the lead singer. They hadn't done much but it was already showing on the two. Skwisgaar was already showing the mother of all bruises on his jaw and then there was Toki's eye. There might have been a little more hair-pulling than Nathan prefered, but this was better than any cooking show.

Pickles, having been the only one to miss Toki's episode at Snakes n Barrels for he was having his own right on stage, still didn't give up hope on breaking it up. Downing the last of his martini he pushed himself up from the couch with a huff and shuffled his way over. A tilt of the head and a scratch of the dreads later Pickles figured out what to do! It was a brilliant idea, in the Irishman's head. So picking up the lamp from the very table Skwisgaar collided with he carefully proded at them like he was trying to separate two fighting and diseased cats. "Cammon guys! Knack it aff, yer gonna break something and then how are we ganna play the shows?"

Toki had just enough time to grin when he saw that Skwisgaar had been affected by the headbutt before he felt an arm wrap around his throat. His grin turned into a snarl and he fought with his arm for a moment trying to escape his grasp. He struggled for a moment and managed to spit out

"I hates you Skwisgaar, I hopes something happens to wheres you'll nevers be ables to plays the guitars agains!"

Then he felt it. Strike after strike, after strike on his back. With every blow it sent a shock of pain down and up his spine. Toki knew he couldn't handle too much more pain and Skwisgaar was ahead as always. Though the more he thought about it the more he trashed around in his grasp and the more desperate he became. He clawed at the Swede's arms with his nails drawing blood with ease yet when Skwisgaar don't budge he moved on to his second plan. Toki opened his mouth up and bit down on whatever skin of his that he could reach. Blood rushed into his mouth from the bite but he continued sinking his teeth deeper into the flesh uncaring at the taste of his blood. Using that as a very painful distraction he then took another swing at Skwisgaar's perfect little nose- and managed to catch him off guard and hit it head on. Though the sound of bones crunching and knife-like pain that ran down his hand warned him that another tough blow to any bone like that, and Toki would break his hand.

Though instead of stopping he just took his other fist and swung it at the other side of Skwisgaars face- wanting to really damage that little sneer of his. Another strange bone chilling sound- though still as if on rampage Toki did not stop. Trying to throw blow after blow after blow to Skwisgaar's head to make him dizzy enough to either falll of so Toki could finish the job or at least dizzy enough to wear he could get the Swede off of him. He only paused for a split second to give Pickles that cruel cold look he shot Murderface at that concert warning him to back off before he continued the onlsaught. Every bone and atom in his body rang to break the Swede the best he could to beat him in this fight to prove that Skwisgaar wasn't the best at everything like he thought he was. Though Toki had to admit, the adrenaline was slowly dying down and the pain that didn't feel too bad before began to get worse and worse.

Murderface caught the look he shot Pickles and shook his head. "Man, Pickles, I wouldn't get too close to that fight, they might just drag you into it... especially Toki." He paused for a moment before taking the time to throw Skwisgaar another cheer.

"Come on, we all know you can kick Toki's ass just like you can beat him at your guitar skills!" Murderface knew he was making it worse, but hey? The fun most go on right? There was nothing else better to do, and since Nathan seemed to be enjoying it, he felt no remorse over his actions- like he ever did anyway.

Skwisgaar was feeling confident that perhaps he might actually win against Toki up until the point he felt teeth chomping down on his side. He yelled out and stopped the punching just to take hold of brown hair again. He was tempted to try and rip the Norwegian off but at the last second thought against him. The chilling thought that if he were to do so might actually result in Toki biting off a good piece of him. It was that distraction that gave Toki the change to punch him right in the nose. His head snapped back, and the blinding pain (literally, his sight went white) along with the sound of bone crunching confirmed that Toki had succeded in breaking his nose. To put the icing one the cupscake the taste of blood filled his mouth as it poured from his nose. That didn't stop Toki from delivering the next series of punches, the second hit his cheek bone causing him to bite into his cheek, the next his temple, at that point Skwisgaar instinctively tried to hold his head back. With another angered yelled, and for his once perfect little nose, he released his snake-like-grip on Toki's neck and delivered his own punch right in the middle of Toki's head. Big mistake, with nothing to hold onto Skwisgaar found himself falling backwards, and just like that he was off Toki and right in front of that violent little mentalcase. Flashes of Snakes n Barrels played before Skwisgaar wavering eyesight as Toki shot the dethstare at Pickles. The drummer's green eye widened in completely shock, his mouth dropped and instincts must have kicked in for he instantly stopped his caring proding took a step back, and even dropped the lamp causing it to shattered against the floor.

Meanwhile Skwisgaar wasn't finished just yet, and no way was he going to end up like that big mouthed fan. Using the advantage of his long legs and not wanting Toki to fill the gap and finish the fight for good he shot out his leg, and shot a red-toothed sneer of satisfaction when he felt the heel of his boot colliding with Toki's face.

The now shaken Pickles returned to the couch, eying around for most likely another martini.

"Dear Gad...Toki lost 'is mind! What are we ganna do?" Nathan knew, deep down, that for the sake of his band that the fight would have to be broken up sooner or later...But it was just too fuckin' brutal to watch. Pickles understood the look in those acid green eyes and frowned.

"Na'tin. Dood. That's seriously facked up."

Toki was up and about to leep on top of Skwisgaar when he felt his heel connect with his jaw. Pain rode threw his mouth as he felt a tooth literally get knocked out of its place. He spat in on the floor and wiped the blood off the side of his mouth. He sat there for a moment in shock as he looked at his one tooth -and a few others were loose!- before he turned his attention to Skwisgaar and snarled seeming to completely lose himself.

"SEES WHATS YOUS FUCKING DIDS? IF ONLY YOUS WOULD COMPLIMENTS ME FROM TIMES TO TIMES AND STOPS TREATINGS ME LIKES SHITS!" He lunged on top of Skwisgaar then, spitting out another tooth before ramming his head into Skiwsgaar's multiples of times. It was as if the adranline prevented Toki from feeling the pain as the two skulls crashed into each other even though he began to get dizzy after a few hard hits. Finally he rammed his knee into the Swede's stomach hoping to make him cough up blood. Then Toki continued his onslaught with his fists, continuely punching Skwisgaar from his broken nose, to his head, to his cheek and on and on. As if he wanted Skwisgaar dead as if all the pint up years of rage and hatred finally came out on him as revenge.

Murderface couldn't continue to watch. Even the brutality was enough to make him sick. Both were bleeding heavily. Toki didn't notice but he had a peice of bone sticking out of his hand. Probably had broken one of his fingers. The punches had left deep purple/green welps on their skin. Neither one of them looked to be in any decent condition. Not to mention the sound of his bandmates bones snapping almost made him vomit. It had to be stopped. Toki was out of control and they didn't need to lose Skwisgaar to some kind of comma that Toki put him in. Else they would be out of two guitarists and wouldn't be able to play at all for awhile. He heard Pickles talking to Nathan and glanced over at the both of them, confused. "What? What is fucked up?" He glanced at Nathan curiously. "What in the hell does he plan on doing to get Toki off of him?"

Oh boy, now he'd done it. The battered Swede went hollow when he saw the last of the reason leave Toki's pale blue eyes, just like in the SnB reunion. 'Valhalla I ams soons enterings your gates.' He thought to himself just as the Norwegian began his ranting. There was nothing he could do but curl up in the best protective ball ever preformed by a human being just as Toki began his onslaught. It didn't help much, but it would delay his death a little. The Gods must have been feeling generous for the feeling left Skwisgaar's body completely, and like he was floating outside of himself all he felt and heard where the sickening thuds, crunches, and jerks as his body became Toki's punching bag. The many blows to his head teetered him on the edge of consciousness and now there really was nothing he could do as his limbs weakened and that little pathetic pose he took uncurled and left himself wide open for Toki's attacks. Yeah it was pretty clear he lost this fight, but at least he had given the brunette possible the worst fight he'd ever be in.

Everyone's eyes were on the two from the moment Skwisgaar's boot said howdy to Toki's jaw, proving Pickles point and finally convincing Nathan to step in. It was TOO brutal, and unlike at SnB Toki wasn't about to kill some random annoying jackoff that could be quickly covered up by the klokateers and a room full of drunk dieing people high of killer raybeams. *Woah! Good song title. But then again, Murderface asked a good question. Nathan's huge footballs shoulders gave a weak shrug.

"Uhhh I dunno, stop him I guess." Pickles squeezed the bridge of his nose, unable to watch his bandmate's murder and just stand there talking about it anymore.

"Dood, just facking do something. Er aye'm goin' ta go get Charles er sumthin'." He was starting to feel like a tattletale, and didn't THAT make him feel like shit. Nathan groaned like he was being ordered to do some horrible tedius chore but finally did the lead singer stand from the couch and walk his was over to Toki and Skwisgaar. From the looks of things he may have already been too late, the Swede was barely trying to stop the hits, his blue eyes rolled up in his head, and both were drenched in blood, bruises, teeth, and probably bits of bone. Brutal. Nathan would have to get his voice recorder after this, he was being overflowed with song ideas. But first thing's first. His hulking form shadowed over the rhythm guitarist until finally did he quite fearlessly put his size to use and quickly wrap his huge arounded his battered yet very diseled body of the norwegian and just like that lifted him into the air.

Yet he held him like at the millasecond Toki showed any signs of lashing out at Nathan he would find himself hurled across the room, not only that but Nathan made sure that in his iron hold he had Toki's arms pinned to his side and his own face craned as far away back from the norwegian as possible. He didn't need a remake of his face today, unlike Skwisgaar whose purple/green bruised swollen bloody and just plain BROKEN face needed medical treatment as well as possible future surgeries. "Toki don't!" Nathan's growl of a voice filled the silent room, which held an atmosphere like that of a grenade with the pin removed.

"Enough!" He roared, and took a second to take possibly the millionth peek down at the blond, whose blond hair was no dyed a mixture of oranges, pinks, and red.

"Woah... I think you might have actually killed him..."