DethloveKlok

Toki had made his way to the conference room Judy could see, and you couldn't mistake his tired, red-rimmed eyes. Pickles took his customary seat, and the girl sat beside him, gaping at Ofdensen's appearance. "Ah, this is a band meeting, Miss Judy," the businessman says softly. "If you wouldn't mind waiting--"

"Yes, I would," she cut him off, jutting her chin out in fair imitation of Nathan. "I'm a part of this family, he's my father, and anything that concerns him concerns me."

"Very well," he acceded, and proceeded to inform them of the recent events and general situation (he did leave some specifics out, for his dignity, of course). "In closing, I think it would be a good idea to not be alone until after the concert, and always stay in contact with each other. We are on high alert status, so keep your eyes open for anything. And don't do anything to each other before the show is over. Please."

They all grunted their assent, paying close attention for once. Maybe they'd seen one too many Alien movies. Ofdensen started to rise from his chair, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Skwisgaar, who was the closest, caught him in his long arms before he hit the floor. "Thor's dick, he's goings into coma like Toki or somethings."

"He's not eat too much candies," protested Toki. "He's been beatens up like a bunch of ninjas and bears got hold of hims."

"Get him to the sick bay!," cries Judy. At her raised voice some employees ran into the room, and immediately removed Ofdensen to the onboard infirmary. What would they do against an unknown enemy without him?



"Scho what's everyone'sh major malfunkschion?," Murderface asked, and got a roomful of scowls for his trouble.

"Dumb-dick there thinks he wants my daughter," Nathan answers sourly.

"Nathan's been means to me all day," pouted Toki.

"Will you guys just stop it?," demanded Katrina, who'd also insisted on being present.

"And you," he turned to the blue-haired woman. "Don't get me started on you. Kissing Mr. Cornrow there. What was all that 'you're a good-lookin guy' stuff?"

"You gotta be kidding me!," she sputtered amidst everyone's eyes becoming saucers. "You were the one who said I wasn't your girlfriend, remember? I can kiss who I damn well please!"

"Well that was before the tango in the sheets!"

Uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"Huh," Judy crossed her arms. "Looks like somebody else besides me, Toki and Pickles has been pretty busy."

"Am I the onlys ones who feels like he missings something?," asked Skwisgaar idly.

"Damn women and their feminine wiles!," shouts Murderface. "Why do we want them sho?"

"They are the demons of the nights, " sighs Toki. "Beautifiuls, dangeromous, and uttersly desirable."

"Damn Toki," said Judy, astonished. "That was like poetry. Even though it was directed at me."

"So, uh, do I gets a turn on the Katrina ride?," asked Skwisgaar, deadpan.

"No," Nathan and Katrina say in unison.


Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick-tock goes the Dethklok. Our intrepid protagonists sat staring at each other as the Dethrocket orbited Earth's lone natural satellite (that's the Moon, by the way). They all decided to visit the CFO who was resting in a hospital bed, feeling rather groggy. Apparently the whopping exposure he had with the Cupid's Dust had unforeseen side effects, not counting the massive fight he'd been in. Katrina squeezed his hand and the guys scrounged up enough sympathy to offer encouraging words, and Judy bent to kiss one of the few unbattered spots on his face when he glanced up at her and grinned weakly.

"Thank you...Judy..," he said feebly. "And thank you, guys. Very kind of you." He was going in and out of coherence. "I love you, Judy," he murmured. "I wish it had been you...not her...ahhh...," and then he was out again.

Nathan felt too sorry for Ofdensen at the moment to consider breaking him in half, so he simply grunted and walked off. Judy, however, was shaken with the manager's words. What did he mean by that? Toki looked stricken. Murderface seemed merely amused and Skwisgaar let out a signature "Pffffft."

"Who you plannin on stabbing with that?," the bassist pointed at Judy's hip, indicating the broadsword he'd given her as a graduation gift.

"You never know when you may need a sword," she winked.



"We've decided you girls are gonna stay backstage with the DethSquad guards," Nathan told Katrina and Judy

"That's what we had told you were were gonna do, to be safe," Katrina rolled her dark brown eyes.

"Oh yeah? Huh."

"Dad?"

"Have a good show. And be careful."

"Thanks," his expression softened. "Uh, Judy, I just wanna say I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I don't mean to treat you like a little kid, but I'm still trying at this whole fatherhood thing. Oh, and I take back what I said to you, Toki. I--uh...guess I'd much rather have you bangin my girl than some dumb regular jackoff. Whew. There. NOW SOMEBODY GET ME A MOTHERFUCKIN BEER BEFORE I START KILLIN PEOPLE WITH MY BARE HANDS! Hey. YOU! Jackoff!"

The hooded employee looked up, startled.

"Get me ten beers, a bottle of Jameson's Irish whiskey, and a bologna sandwich."

Judy smiled at her father.

Pickles saw his opportunity after the frontman down half the bottle in one gulp. "You still mad at me for kissin Katrina?"

"Nah. Only she didn't do it quite right. Let ME show ya." Then he grabbed Pickles, dipped him, crushing the small man to his massive chest, and laid a huge smooch on him. "There ya go. That one was free, the next one you gotta pay. C'mere, toots," then it was Katrina's turn, leaving both her and the red-haired drummer looking the worse for wear.

"Shtay away from me!," Murderface croaked, stepping away.

Pickles' face was almost as red as his dreadlocks. Nathan could still be heard barking orders and growling as he entered the stage area. It was time. They were going to do it: a kickass metal concert on the Moon.

With a huge motherfuckin laser light show.

The band were set up in a airtight dome on a raised platform which looked like huge bones, surrounded by massive experimental Russian lasers, and in perfect view of the fan modules dipping in low orbit. They split apart and rearranged like massive Transformers to give the lucky audience the ultimate experience. Amps and speakers floated about, guaranteed to eradicate with sonic punishment any sort of life in the next several planets over.

The Lunar Metalocalypse had begun.