DethloveKlok

"Yeah," she answered. Her father let go of the guitar/weapon and she threw it on Skwisgaar's bed, out of his reach. "C'mon Dad," she goes on. "We better get you and Skwisgaar to the infirmary."

Nathan's appearance was rather comical with his tooth broken off. Even Judy, who'd been quite worried over his condition, could barely keep from snickering. An appointment with an orthodontist was made, but it wasn't until the next day, which left a whole day for the rest of Dethklok to poke fun.

While the singer was having his head x-rayed Judy sat down alone beside Skwisgaar, who was holding an ice pack on his swelling cheek. "Yous not gonna hits at me again, are yous?," he asked irritably.

"Not if you don't try sexually assaulting me again," she retorted, eyes flashing.

"Ah," he cleared his throat. "I's sorries about dat. Yous not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm ok. Just shook up."

"Maybes," he swallowed. Maybes I deserve dis," he pointed at his face. It was difficult for the egotistical guitarist to admit he was wrong. "I didn'ts deserves assbeatings from dumb Nathans though. He is like whole footballs team runnings over you." Judy giggled. "You...ah...you forgives me?," he ends softly.

"I forgive you," she responds at last.

"I hates this dildoes stitches," Skwisgaar griped. His face had to be sewn up in several places due to the blows he'd recieved via Nathan Explosion. Just then the Mordhaus head doctor entered the room, studying charts.

"Hey Doctor," calls Judy. "How's my Dad doing?"

"Well, he's got a concussion, bruises, a split lip and a broken tooth," the hard-pressed physician answers. "But he'll be fine. Just make sure he doesn't exert himself too much. Keep him quiet."

Skwisgaar and Judy looked at one another. Yeah, that'll surely happen, said their faces.


"I gots new candies," Toki exclaimed proudly. "Boxes and boxes! Have some," he proffered his bowl of candy to the young lady.

"Mmm," she went. "This is great!," she said. They ate the whole bowl and then went in search of the cook Jean-Pierre for more sweets. The sewn-together-badly head chef cheerfully presented a triple chocolate fudge cake, which the pair demolished. They sat in the food preparation area, licking chocolate off their fingers. "What's you wanna do's now?," queried Toki. He was on a serious sugar rush.

"Let's go jam, I wanna try out my new guitar."

"Great ideas! That's the one Pickle got you. It's rockamoli!"

The playmates went to Toki's room and plugged their instruments into spare amps. Soon they were interweaving melodies, taking turns soloing. The woman was improving all the time, and could match the majority of what the Norwegian threw at her.

"Yeesh," he mock-complained. "You's getting too good."

"I still have a long ways to go before I'm as fast as you," Judy deferred, taking off her guitar.

"Hey, let's go play DDR," Toki suggests, unplugging his guitar. He bumped into her as they made for the door, and she playfully pushed him back. Hyped up on sugar they were soon giggling and shoving each other aside. In her happiness she threw her arms around his head, their eyes level. She was tall and substantial, having already surpassed poor Pickles in heighth and breadth her last growth spurt.

Toki's arms went around her waist and then he was breathing in the scent of her hair, and he could feel her heart beating. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. "I missed you," she said softly, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I--uh--missed you too," Toki stammered, disconcerted at this display of affection. "Oh, uh, sorries," he mumbled when they pulled apart after what seemed like decades. After the spontaneous gesture they were both shy and a bit embarrassed. She wasn't a groupie or hanger-on, she was his fun-filled buddy.

Wasn't she?

"Let's go feed the yard wolves," she suggests.

"Jah! Better put on the arm and shin guards, they play roughs."


"I wanna shee!," complained Murderface, waiting for his turn to look through the telescope.

"Hold on a minute, Murderface," admonishes Nathan. "Wow. That's really cool, having your own land on the Moon." He moved out of the way to let the bassist peer through it. "You know what'd be really metal? If we played a concert. Right there. On the Moon."

Silence. All the members of the band stared at Nathan.

"That's the most awesome thing I've ever heard," said Pickles, green eyes wide.

Skwisgaar and Toki glanced at each other, excitement on their features. "Space Vikings," they spoke in unison.

The next band meeting: Ofdensen sitting at the head of the table, his nondescript face's expression ranging from total disbelief and exasperation as Dethklok informed him of their plan.

"Let me get this straight," he began, looking at each of them in turn. "You want to hold a concert on the Moon, on Judy's land. Nonwithstanding the, heh, astronomical price of such an endeavor, who would you play to? It's in outer space."

"Well see, we thought about that," Nathan responds triumphantly. "We could like have a drawing of Dethklok fanclub members, and the lucky ones would have their own, like, space module thingy floatin' around watchin' us play. Everybody else would have to pay like 2 million dollars to see it."

"Is that per person?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Uh huh," and you could see the wheels in Ofdensen's crafty mind turning. "Hmmm," he went after a moment. "We may be able to do that."

"Oh, and Off? We gotta have some big fuckin lasers."

"Uhh..."

"A big motherfuckin' laser light show."

"I want a lightshaber," chimes in Murderface.

"And I wants my space helmet to has Viking horns on it."

"I wants a candy dispensers in my spacesuit!," pipes up Toki.

Ofdensen sighs. "Whatever."

"Sweet," Nathan smirks.