DethloveKlok

All of a sudden the ship lurched, shuddered, as if being struck. The members of Dethklok stumbled and groggy Toki fell, moaning. Nathan yanked him upright and half-pulled, half-carried him along. "Where is everyone?," grumbled the black-haired singer. Pickles got his Dethphone and dialed frantically. "Hey! Off? Oh, hi Katrina. Where are you at? What's goin on?" Another impact, jerking the rocket again, sparks flying from panels and the lights flickering on and off. "Yeah, we're goin to the conference room. I think," Pickles went on. "If I get Nat'an back to ya do I get another kiss? Aww. She hung up on me."

"Dammit why don't they have teleporters yet?," Murderface complained. "Why hashn't somebody done that already?"

"I don't feels so goods," Toki groaned. "I tink the ships going backs and forths is doings it."

"That assashin chick mushta poisoned him," said Murderface.

"It's the stuffs they used on Ofdensen, remembers?," observed Skwisgaar, making sense for once. The lead guitarist got on the other side of the wobbling Norwegian, putting Toki's arm around his neck. Shouts, shots and more noise echoed down the corridor behind them; they'd better get going or they'd be caught in it. "Comes on, Tokis. You hangs in there," encouraged the blond man, causing Nathan to raise a heavy black eyebrow at him.

As they semi-ran, semi-staggered along Toki rubbed his innocent face on the Swede's shoulder. "Skwisgaar," he said, sounding like he was talking through a tunnel with cotton-mouth. "I tells you someting. I don't hates you. I nevers did."

"Not now, Toki," admonished Skwisgaar. "We's in a hurrys."

"No really, Skwisgaar. I never hates you. I thoughted you hates me. Never knowings why you woulds hates me, when I all do's is looks up to yous."

"Bwell...," his face flushed, his pale complexion unable to hide it. "I don't hates you Toki." Jeez was that damn dust a truth serum, too? What else would come out of that childish guitarist's mouth?

"I knows, Skwisgaar. You do cares abouts me." The others were silent, embarrassed and uncomfortable from this display of emotion between bandmates.

"Oh gods, Toki. Just shuts up!"

"That's okays," Toki sighs cheerfully, resting his light-brown-haired head on Skwisgaar's bony shoulder. "I knows the truths now. We is like...Scandinavians metal brothers-in-arms."

"All right, we're leavings him," Skwisgaar made as if to drop him.

"No we're not leaving him," barked Nathan. "Now come on. Toki, shut up."

"I loves you too, Nathans. Weeee!"

"Jesus, what's in that dust?," wondered Pickles. He kinda wanted to try some; he'd try anything once, twice if it was good.

"And I loves Pickle...and Moiderface, and Ofdensen, and specially Judy...," he hiccupped.

"Toki, SHUT UP!," roared Nathan.

Toki giggled but said no more.

At last they neared the conference room, noting the place was crawing with Klokateers hell-bent on their masters' safety. Two anxious figures ran to greet them.

"It's the girls!," Pickles was relieved.

Toki lifted his head and his jaw dropped. He'd never seen two such gorgeous female creatures in his whole life. "Wowee," he squealed, the Cupid's Dust still playing havoc in his system. Judy kissed her father's scraggly cheek then turned to Toki, her expression one of concern. "Toki, what's wrong?"

"It's that assassin's powder," answers Pickles.

"Oh my. Judys--your tits are--awesome!," he declared, staring at her bosom. He wanted to bury his face in them.

"Toki!," scolded Katrina and Judy together.

"What? I feels wierds..ugh..."

"Aw, he's gonna puke," groaned Nathan.

They threw open the door to the conference room which was crawling with Klokateers, and Toki promptly emptied his stomach's contents on Ofdensen's fuzzy slippers. The remains of a lot of candy and a pickled herring sandwich graced the floor, which the rest of the group avoided. Ofdensen rubbed his temples, sat down at a chair, and counted to twenty. Then he counted to fifty. Finally he opened his eyes and asked, almost bemusedly, "What's up with Toki?"

"That stuff one of the psycho bitches sprayed you with," Judy replies.

"I see. Better get him to the sick bay."