Wish You Were Here (Mythklok, Chapter 36)

[tikific]

Title: Wish You Were Here (Mythklok, Chapter 36)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Will lack of cheese snacks spell curtains to the newly formed AU Dethklok?
Warnings: Slash, AU, including an AU to the AU, OCs, tons of smoking, EXTRA SUPER BAD SWEARING, excessive cuteness (at the end) – this one just got totally out of control folks
Notes: Notes after the jump.

Cross-posted to capslokdethklok.

OK, here's your Mythklok. Featuring 30% MORE swearing, plus an incredibly weird backstory. Plus, an AU to an AU to make things even more complicated and recursive. Oh, and this is the third bit of the Santeria Arc, which I think will be 5 bits total, but I may change my mind.



Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU in which Charles is Sariel, an angel who fell to earth and subsequently got adopted by a death metal band. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal, tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.

So, recently, Charles got to learn more about his truly weird origin story. Unfortunately, he's trapped in an alternate universe that's about to explode. Brutal! Since in this AU Dethklok never formed (due to this universe's Charles having been killed at birth plus lack of appropriate cheese snacks) he's been trying to get the band together. He has a plan! A crazy, stupid plan - but aren't those the best kind?


Wish You Were Here

Somewhere out there, a universe was dying.

It had somehow acquired a discontinuity - a tear, a rip in the fabric. Death was inevitable now, though whether it be years, months, days, or mere hours up the line, no one could tell.

An angel and a god sat watching.

They were also smoking cigars. And drinking some very fine rum.

"The music business," snorted the god. "Why the fuck would anyone take that on?"

"Perhaps he has a creative bent?" suggested the angel. He was a Seraph, but he was politely Court Formed right now, so he would be the precise right size to enjoy the delicious cigar the god had courteously brought along.

"Yeah, but, so many cocksuckers," the god grumbled. He unhooked the machetes from his belt and tossed them carelessly on the table before them, and then sat in a more comfortable position.

"There exist those types in every vocation," the angel enunciated, smoke wafting from his nose. His diction was exquisite. As was his cigar.

"You know what he's doing RIGHT FUCKING NOW? He's starting a fucking band!"

"Well, you have confined him here. He must do something to pass the time." The angel considered the rum. Lovely color, really. Almost to exquisite to consume. Almost.

"Yeah, Phanny. About that...."

"Do not. Call me. That." The angel sighed. "Jacque. I have been observing your son closely for some months now. I must say, he is more resourceful than perhaps you give him credit for." The rum had loosened his tongue. But he felt he didn't much care.

"Resourceful how?"

"There have been some Violations. Of late. Quite bad ones. Which I have observed. And let stand."

The god stared, intrigued.

"I cannot tell the end point. I simply know, he has a talent for gathering some ... uniquely talented individuals."

"How do you mean?"

"You would not be able to see," the angel smiled, downing his drink, and reaching to help himself from the bottle. "As you have yourself confessed, you are a sentimental cocksucker." The angel relished the profanity, letting it roll all over his tongue. "You are, no doubt, already head over heels in love with the little bahstard. It has clouded your judgement."

Jacque sat back, amazed. In a long acquaintanceship, he could not remember hearing at once so many words sent forth from the angel's mouth.

"But still, Phanny, the music industry?"

"It is difficult, yes."

"Do you watch her too?"

The angel nodded.

"What does she do."

"She? She is queen," he said, with no little bit of pride.

"Oh, now that!" the god stated, "That's one good motherfucking career!"

And they clinked glasses, and drank to it.



Our universe, Lord Ganesh's Residence

Lord Ganesh was casting a spell.

This was a good one. Bast had found the reference for them. It was very old.

He ignored the general chaos that had overtaken his once tranquil residence and concentrated. Careful, now.

He suddenly cried out and dashed behind the couch for cover from the slimy, green onslaught.

His living room ceiling was raining amphibians.

He waited until the storm had mostly passed, and walked back to the center of what had once been his living room. The frogs, recovering no doubt from what from their perspective probably represented an ordeal, were starting to hop curiously about, intermingling with the bunnies, the result of another failed spell.

Ganesh sank onto his damp couch, and a frog hopped to his knee. It spat something at a passing bunny rabbit, who immediately seized, vomited blood, and expired.

"Frogs of death," muttered Ganesh. Lovely.



Another Ganesh's residence in another universe....

"Yes, I believe Knubbler's distinctive 'Edifice of Noise' aesthetic was pivotal in the evolution of the modern dance trance musical genre," the handsome Indian man stated to the offscreen interviewer.

"Plus, he shoots people! He's AWESOME!" his small girlfriend piped up.

"So, one thing I don't understand," Sariel asked, looking up from the TV set in Ganesh's living room. "If you guys sneaked in, busted Dick Knubbler out of Celebrity Rehab, and then made a getaway, when exactly did you have time to do these interviews?"

"Oh, they missed part of it the first time, so they called us back and shot from a couple more angles," Raziel explained.

"More importantly, they failed to capture my best side the first time!" Ganesh added.

"Oh, all your sides are your best, little jaanu," Raziel cooed at him as they kissed and Sariel tried to keep his lunch from coming back up. "Anyway, they did these walk and talks between setups, and then some talking heads afterwards."

"Dick turns out to be a quite popular celebrity addict" Ganesh noted. "There is the potential of a spin off next season if ratings are good in the appropriate demographic."

"And he shoots a few more people!" Raziel threw in.

Sariel sighed very, very deeply. He hoped to gods Murderface was worth this shit.



Our universe, Mordhaus....

The view screen came to life in Charles' erstwhile office.

It showed a board room full of music industry executives, A red-faced Roy Cornickleson at the head of the table.

"We are rapidly running out of patience on the next album. When can we...." he looked up, into his own video monitor.

He turned even redder.

And grew a pair of horns.

"Oh no," he said, now that he was revealed in his demon guise. "Not you! Please, not you!"

Queen Raziel, sitting in her brother's office, snapped her fingers.

The picture on the monitor changed. Now Cornickleson was surrounded by the feline Elder God Lady Bast and several of her sword-bearing soldiers.

Then they winked out of the board room video, and were standing before Raziel.

"Do you realize what you've done?" Duke Berith (for it was Cornickleson's version of a Demon True Form) shrieked.

"If you have any non-demons working on your executive team, which I doubt, then they'll have some stories to tell," Raziel told him

"You have just destroyed my career!"

Raziel tossed a CD jewel case at Berith. "What I wanna know is, why you gave this to Satan."

Berith scowled. "Haven't you asked Samael about this?"

"Morningstar said it was Samael. Which means it definitely wasn't him." She grinned. "My Little Brother is reliable like that."

"I didn't...."

"I'm not asking you whether you did it. I'm asking why."

"Where the hell is Charles?"

"And, you're answering to me now."

Berith folded his arms defiantly. "Why should I answer to you?" Raziel arched an eye brow, and suddenly, Bast's sword was at his throat.

"OK. OK. OK. Call off your cat girl."

"I'm a LION GIRL!" Bast snarled.

Berith pulled at his tie. "I'm under pressure."

"Not from Headquarters."

"There is no Headquarters. From somewhere south...." He nodded his horned head, as if Raziel were supposed to fill in the blanks.

"South? Your dick?" Raziel grinned.

"The new head of ... where the kangaroos hop." Berith actually made a kangaroo-esque gesture with his hands.

"You're in trouble with the zoo?" His glare only increased her smile. "I could call my friends Vince and Howard I suppose...."

Berith merely glared.

"OK, characterize the threats. Direct action? Timeline?"

"Not physical so much as ... exposure. A lot of us in the industry are on our ... second careers, as it were."

"Why don't you just come out? Like Sariel did?"

"You seem to have accomplished that for me. And your Brother has a fucking army at his disposal."

"You have an army too. I recognized some of the faces from that board meeting."

"It's been a long time," Berith groused.

"And you've gotten lazy?"

"I like my life. As it is. No slaying your enemies. Just fucking them up the ass sideways."

"You might not be liking it after Seth is through with you."

"I'm not liking it too much right now," Berith frowned, eying Bast's sword.

"Any read on Seth's motivation?"

"Do you even need to ask that one?" Berith asked.

"Seth has been around the block before. There's no telling with those Elder Gods sometimes."

Berith flicked his eyes up to Bast, who was carefully licking a paw. She cast a cat eye in his direction. "No. There isn't," she agreed.

"He wants to fuck with his brother. And your Brother," Berith told them.

"Thanks, Berith. You've got a good head on your shoulders." She leaned forward over the deak "Try and keep it there."



In another universe, Carpathians Castle, residence of Dick Knubbler....

Charles had mulled over the correct location for the all important first band meeting for some time. Pickles' apartment was clearly out of the question. Just thinking about the rubbish-strewn floor made him itch. Dragging them out to Ganesh's place didn't seem right at this early juncture. And the old Dethklok standbys of strip club/dive bar he figured wouldn't fly with Nathan's girlfriend/Siamese twin, Lavona. Whom he knew was coming, as they had specifically had to plan around her schedule.

Then it turned out this universe's Dick Knubbler, who was endlessly grateful to Ganesh and Raziel for generating all the positive buzz regarding his Celebrity Rehab appearance, had his own rather lavish recording studio at his exclusive compound, Carpathians Castle. The only stipulation was that Raziel and Ganesh, who turned out to be quite sincere and enthusiastic fans, got to tag along.

Charles had asked Ganesh at one point if he wasn't taking too much time off work, and received a puzzled glance in return. It turned out that in this reality, his brother, Lord Skanda, was head of the EKC. Which, needless to say, was not the EKC at all. Ganesh didn't do much of anything, other than spend money. This odd career choice was evidently no small factor in his current relationship with Raziel.

They arrived first - Charles, Ganesh and Raziel - with Pickles in tow. Raziel and Ganesh immediately wandered off for a tour. Raziel swore that she'd heard Dick's third wife was still locked up there somewhere in a padded cell, eternally fated to sing harmonies to beloved 60s classics. Pickles immediately renewed his acquaintance with Dick Knubbler. In addition to experience recording together in the past, apparently, they currently shared several of the same drug dealers.

As it turned out, Skwisgaar, too, had had some experience with Kunbbler in the studio, though apparently, none of his many bands had ever actually issued any of the tracks once they were recorded. This produced a whole series of anecdotes about why this or that band had gotten into legal trouble or broke up or messed with underaged girls (or, in Skwisgaar's case, somebody's grandmother) at the critical moment. In one case, it seemed that the master tapes had actually spontaneously combusted. Skwisgaar evidently had a bit of a reputation as a curse, which he appeared to think was rather awesome. It would increase the appeal of the band, Charles thought, if they actually managed to issue recordings featuring the elusive guitarist.

Nathan made his usual noisy entrance, and then performed a weird balancing act of beginning to bond Nathan-style with Knubbler or Skwisgaar, only to then retreat once Lavo's scowl became too piercing.

Charles wasn't completely certain exactly when Toki had joined them: one moment he wasn't there, the next he was hanging shyly back. He seemed to have temporarily latched on to Skwisgaar, who lavished in attention.

And then, finally, William Murderface entered, over an hour late, and clearly expecting to be treated like a the star of the bunch. From Charles' research, it appeared that Murderface was known less for his concept albums than for a single novelty hit, the reggae number, "Titty Fish," which had been an International smash, but which the grumpy musician was currently refusing to play live. This had evidently sparked a riot at more than one venue, which somewhat explained his record company's current ire.

Fortunately, Charles had rather extensive experience in industry ass-kissing, so he immediately turned his full attentions to the bassist, ushering him over to chat with Knubbler. And then, as if by some miracle, the two were suddenly engaged in a deep conversation regarding their choice of firearms.

Charles stepped back. It was working. They were all talking. He had always thought predestination to be a load of bullshit, but this....

"And what do you do, Miss?"

Oh, no.

It was simply a very polite, and terribly obvious question from the soft-spoken Toki, who, Charles suspected, never would have ventured to speak if he'd had any idea what he would set off.

The room had suddenly grown quiet. As before a storm.

"I am an arteest. A poet!" Lavona declared. He could see poor Nathan struggle to keep a straight face.

"Oh," Toki persisted obliviously. "Where is your art?"

"Vhat?" snapped Lavona.

"I just mean, uh...." Toki sputtered. He looked around, obviously only now realizing he'd strayed into strange territory. "If you're an artist? You have paintings?

"I do naht PAINT!" Lavona insisted. "I create the AMBIENCE!"

"Lavo believes that her life force, uh, creates an, uh, artwork, or something...." Nathan put on lamely.

"The old ball and schain!" Murderface suddenly shouted, to some snickering.

"I don't think that's, uh....." Nathan began. But he was interrupted by Skwisgaar making a whip sound.

"I vill naht schtand here to be eensulteed," Livona snorted. "Come, Nat'an." And she flounced out. Nathan glanced around sheepishly, mouthed, "Sorry," and hurried after her. Skwisgaar following after Nathan.

"Good work, Toki. What isch a guitar tuner doing here with the big boysch, anyway?" Murderface snorted.

"Gitar tooner?" asked Pickles. "Dood. He tol' me yoo have him doublin' ya backstage on gitar durin' yer concerts."

Murderface scowled at Toki. "Oh, yeah? Maybe he'sch not a guitar tuner. Maybe he'sch unemployed."

Toki glowered at Murderface, and then stormed off as well, Pickles hastening after him.

Predestined? thought Charles. Yeah, predestined to be sorry assholes who don't get along with anybody.

He went to say his goodbyes to Knubbler, who was still chatting happily with Murderface.

"Dick wash juscht gonna schow me hisch firing range, schure you don't wanna come?"

"Naw, that's OK." Much as I feel like shooting something, he thought.

He passed through the parking lot. Nathan still hadn't left. He had evidently ushered Lavona to their car, and then shut the door on her. He was currently leaning with all his weight on the door while in deep conversation with Skwisgaar, a spitting angry Lavona now pressed against the window, looking daggers at them.

Charles shook his head, a trace of a smile on his face, and walked around the corner, out of their sight. He stopped and pulled a package of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. They had Marlboros in this universe, as it happened. He split the plastic wrap, opened the pack and extracted one cancer stick. It would be OK, he thought. It would obviously be a while till he was home, so there was no chance of Ganesh smelling it on his clothes.

He paused, cigarette in mouth, match in hand. But, that was like acknowledging it, wasn't it? That he wasn't getting home any time soon? That he might never get back? That he might die here, without....

"Dooooood!"

He looked up to see Pickles and Toki. They were actually smiling at him. "Dood, we didn't know where yoo went. Toki knows dis great bar near here where dey haven't cleaned da floor since 1947! You wanna come?"

"Uh, no, I think I'll pass. I'm a little tired tonight. But thanks."

Pickles grinned, and, hooking a friendly elbow around Toki, the two set off for dive bar heaven.

Charles watched them leave. It was a little strange to be invited along, with no thought that they were the stars and he was a mere manager. It was also a bit strange seeing them like this, unspoiled, before the fame.

Before you spoiled them, he thought.



Somewhere else....

Maybe they should have hauled Murderface's ass along so they could have driven, Pickles mused.

The had been a lot of places, all of them wrong ones.

They had just taken a wrong turn and ended up in a universe with an all girl version of Dethklok. Who knew a chick Dethklok could be so cute? But, evidently none of the banshees there much cared for knitting, and the mere mention seemed to cause a bit of righteous upset, so he'd dragged Skwisgaar's ass away.

And then another wrong door. It had been sort of charming to see Rigyn again. She even remembered him. The Charles in that universe had evidently felt sorry for them, as, when they were leaving, he had handed Pickles one of the well-squashed silvery feathers the little girl kept tucked in her room. It made Pickles smile. But then Skwisgaar had snatched it away - some of their Charles's magic remained on it, apparently.

The guitarist now stood, squinting at the feather.

"Which door, dood?" Pickles asked.

"I t'inks dat one."



In another universe....

Sariel made his way back to Ganesh's place to find Ganesh and Raziel had preceded him by some hours and several supermodels apiece. It looked like a Vogue photoshoot. He picked his way through a bevy of gracefully slouching men to the living room.

He wondered briefly why he was feeling more upset with Raziel about this than he was with Ganesh, who was, after all, his boyfriend back in another universe.

"Sariel! I was just about to call you!" Ganesh greeted him. "Your guests have arrived!"

"Guests?" Ganesh nodded, and Sariel walked towards the room Ganesh had waved towards.

"Pickles? Skwisgaar?"

It was his Pickles. And his Skwisgaar.

His horrible and narcissistic and annoying and neurotic Pickles and Skwisgaar.

He couldn't help himself. He fairly tackled Pickles and kissed him. Ganesh, who had followed, stood laughing at the door.

"Don't I ams gets da kiss?" Skwisgaar pouted. "I ams da ones dat found you!"

Sariel obliged.

"Holy fuck, dudes!" Skwisgaar crowed. "Can I also makes out wit' dis Gannosh? He says he ain't your boyfriends, ja? He ams hot."

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Knock yourself out," Sariel told him, waving his hand in Ganesh's grinning direction.

"Yoo OK dood?" his Pickles asked.

"No. No, I'm not. I have problems," Sariel told him, sinking down on a couch.

"Like wut?"

"Like I'm trapped here by my double-dealing asshole liar of a father, and the universe is about to blow up."

"Brootal."

"Plus, EVERYBODY BUT ME in this fucking universe gets to make out with Ganesh," he said, waving at Ganesh and Skwisgaar, who were rather enthusiastically going at it.

"Sucks. But, dat's pretty hot!" Pickoes grinned.

"That is pretty hot. I was wondering if they'd let me join, but there's not much space in there," Raziel, who had just torn herself away from Ganesh's models, agreed.

"Wut?" Pickles asked her.

"Well, he is nominally my boyfriend."

Pickles looked from Raziel to Sariel in confusion. "Wut about Wotan?"

"In this universe she's dating Ganesh," Sariel explained.

"Wut? He don' like girls!"

"He likes me!" Raziel protested, small hands defiant on small hips.

Pickles shook his head, evidently deciding to let the matter drop. "So wut are yoo gonna doo about da whole universe blown' up t'ing?"

"I had a crazy stupid idea."

"Oh, dose are da best kind" Pickles grinned.

"Here's the thing. I don't exist in this universe. And you guys haven't formed Dethklok. And, you don't seem to wanna form Dethklok."

"Yeh," Pickles agreed, "We're a bunch o' assholes. Why did yoo need us, anyway?"

"I told you, crazy stupid. This universe is tearing. I thought I could get you to perform here, and maybe the normal shit would happen, and you'd end up destroying that part of the universe."

"Oh. Dat is crazy and stupid."

"Thanks."

"So, dood, why don't i jist go back t' Mordhaus an' get da guys and we perform here?"

"What? No! That's completely against the rules."

"Rools suck. Besides, I t'ought da yooniverse was gonna blow up anyway?"

Sariel blinked. "You know," he said. Indeed.

Pickles grinned.

"OK, get back, get the rest of the guys, tell everyone to get ready for a show. Oh, and tell Ganesh they're vodouisants, Jacque and Elegba. That's undoubtedly the magic that's keeping me here."

Pickles laughed.

"What?" Sariel asked him.

"Like da voodoo dat yoo doo?"

He sighed. "Yes, like the voodoo that you do."

"Dat's good. Gannish dood has bin tryin' one o' everything. Dere's bits o' da house dat ain't lookin' too good right now."

"And tell Ganesh....." He trailed off. "Never mind. Tell him I'll be back."

"He's growin' a beard."

"He's what?"

"He hasn't shaved shince yoo disappeared,"

"Shit! Tell him to shave the fucking thing!"

"Dat's what Lady Raz has been tellin' him too."

"Oh. And get something from Ganesh. He's got some drawings. Of me. Of uh...." He cringed, but pressed on. "Of my wings. He'll know what you mean."

Pickles nodded. He looked over to the guitarist. "Skwisgaar! Git yer ass over here, we gotta get back an save da yooniverse!"

Skwisgaar ambled over, Ganesh now leaning against the door jamb making the "call me" gesture.

"The next time you visit you have to kiss me!" Raziel informed Skwisgaar.

"Buts, dudes, in our universes, you ams-" Skwisgaar started.

"Too complex, dood," Pickles said, grabbing his elbow. And then they were gone.

"Hum. Well, maybe next time I can just get video of him and Ganesh," Raziel considered.

"Is she like this in the other universe?" Ganesh inquired.

Sariel simply shook his head and scowled at Raziel. "Look, I'm gonna need a very big favor," he told Ganesh.

"You are the man responsible for securing me a recurring role on the upcoming, 'Dick Knubbler Presents, Celebrity Rehab-A-Go-Go, Featuring Dick Knubbler and the Knubblerettes!" Ganesh grinned.

"He's gonna let Knubby Knubbler out of her padded cell just for this!" gushed Raziel.

"I should do anything for you!" Ganesh attested.

"I'm gonna need someone to set up a working concert venue near the hole in your universe," Sariel told him, cringing in anticipation.

"Capitol! I shall perhaps call my new music industry best friend ... Why, that's him now!" Ganesh reached for his cell phone. Sariel recognized the ringtone. It was one of Dick Knubbler's classic Edifice of Noise numbers, "Baby Be My Baby, Baby."

"It's for you!" Ganesh announced.

"Me?" asked Sariel, taking the phone.

"They wish to speak the managing agent of Death Frog," Ganesh smiled.



Back in this universe....

"All right, doods, we got da plan? Dey'll have everything we need fer da concert dere, 'cause I guess Gannish dood is rich in dat yooniverse or something." Pickles looked around the meeting room from his seat at the head of the table. Absolutely no one was bothering to look at him, which seemed odd. He pressed on. "So, jest grab what yoo t'ink you'll need, like yer song notebook, Nat'an. So, OK. Doods. Doods?"

"Uhhhhhh," said Nathan.

"Yeh?"

"Are we doin' the old stuff, or some brand new stuff?"

"Don' matter. Charles said whatever yoo like."

"I ams nots sures I ams readies to performs new numbers," Skwisgaar stated, fiddling on his Gibson.

"OK. Den we'll jest play a couple o' old numbers...."

"Skwisgaar! This is an OPPORTUNITY! We could try my new stuff in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE," Nathan scolded.

"Pfffft," rejoindered Skwisgaar.

"Look. Like I said, dis is important. Dat yooniverse might blow up...."

"Regarding thisch eventuality, have conschiderations been made for our schafety, visch-a-visch this deschtruction?"

"Uh. I dunno. Charles is dere, an' like I said, he's got Gannish dood an' Lady Raz t' protect us..."

"Perhapsch we need a more comprehenschive schecurity plan? Isch anyone elsch feeling inschecure?"

"Yesh, another universe, our workers comp might not cover us huh?" Nathan considered.

"Doods! Yoo doo realize dat every feckin' moment is precious?" Pickles asked.

"Dats why we ams nots jumpsings into things," Skwisgaar scolded.

"Toki. Dood! Help me out, here!"

"I ams not knows," Toki said, not looking up from his text messaging. "Nephthys ams wants me to takes her to da Amanda Palmers concerts."

"Why the FUCK am I still seeing your worthless asses in is meeting room?" Raziel barked. Everyone jerked to attention. She was at the door, Bast at her side, glowering. "FIVE MINUTES, ASSHOLES! Then we're dragging you miserable bitches off to another universe. Ready or not!" And then she stormed off.

"She cans nots do dat," Skwisgaar stated a bit uncertainly.

"Uhhhhh she can't do that, can she?" Nathan asked.

"Can sche do that?" Murderface echoed.

"I dunno, doods. We don't got a feckin manager here t' protect our sahry asses, now doo we?" Pickles grumbled.

Looks were exhanged, and then the room was swiftly emptied of bodies.

Except Pickles, who was glaring at the beeping light on the wrist communicator he was presently wearing.

"How long was dat?" he said into the communication device.

"Not even five minutes!" came Raziel's voice. "TOLD YOU!"

"Gahd," Pickles muttered. "We are such a bunch o' douche bags."



Australia....

"Uh, your immortal worshipfulness?" The Seraph winced, hoping he had gotten this week's salutation right.

"What the fuck is it that you've fucking interrupted me from fucking important state business," Seth asked. The hooker whose head was between his thighs briefly looked up, but he swiftly grabbed her hair and pulled her back to business.

"We have gotten word that Mordhaus lies undefended." Seth raised an angry finger. "I mean, that shit bucket, Mordhaus, lies undefended."

"What are you doin'?" Seth suddenly shouted at the hooker. "Get the fuck away!" He gave her a rude push. "What do you fucking mean it's undefended?"

"We've gotten word that the little ratfucker disappeared. And now it appears that the evil no talent assholes have departed as well."

"Who the fuck is left?"

"Uh. The little ratfucker's pregnant sister?"

"You're fucking kidding me?"

The Seraph nodded.

Seth grinned. He felt something. Almost like an emotion. Someone was gonna get so fucked.



In another universe, Carpathians Castle....

"Nathan and Skwisgaar already have tracks, baby, yeah," Knubbler told Sariel. "And Pickles and William have contacted me separately, yeah."

"Wow," was all Sariel could say.

"I wanna do it, baby. Yeah. They've got 'It,' baby. And I'm getting gonzo ratings from Celebrity Rehab, yeah. This could be very big, baby. Very big."

"That's extremely good news."

"But," Dick looked down at his cosmopolitan, tracing a finger around the rim. "There's something I wanna know from you baby. All honesty." He looked up at Sariel, absently taking a sip.

"OK."

"Ganny baby and La Razi. They ain't human. You ain't either."

"I don't deny it."

Knubbler nodded, uncharacteristically silent. "You're not Seraph," he finally said. "I know that."

Sariel decided to forge ahead. "I'm actually from another reality. I've been trapped here. You know about the discontinuity? The tear?"

"That's the rumor, baby. So, it's true?"

"Yeah. And when these guys, uh, when my version of Death Frog plays in my universe, sometimes, strange things happen."

"You think they could knit back together the discontinuity?"

"Absolutely not." Knubbler looked up at Sariel. "My thought was more along the lines of blowing it the fuck up."

"Ha! Charlie, baby! You're an insane motherfucker! I like that, yeah."

"You could do me a favor. In fact, I think we could do each other a favor. If you want Death Frog to happen, that is."

"Lay it on me, Charlie baby! Yeah!"



In our universe....

"These should do nicely," Wotan said, standing, hands on hips, grinning, in Ganesh's erstwhile living room.

"Thanks, Uncle Wotan," Ganesh said blearily, blinking over at the clucking caged birds. He did not bother to get up from where he was sprawled on the couch.

He felt a light breeze on his face from where the whirlwind had carried away part of his roof. This was in addition to the numerous small fires, flooding, and explosions small and large, the result of magickal spells that had or had not performed as expected, but none of which had, so far, apparently liberated Sariel from where he was being held captive by his father.

Ganesh was alone at jis residence, having sent all his servants away some time ago, as he was reluctant to expose them to the inconvenience, mess, and, sometimes, outright danger.

There had also been at least two incidents of raining frogs. Which Ganesh thought rather excessive.

"You haven't called me Uncle Wotan in a dog's age!"

"I'm probably feeling a bit ... in need of a guardian right now."

"You'll be fine. We have not a better spell caster in the pantheons, I've always said."

Ganesh painfully raised himself to a sitting position. "So, they've all gone?"

"With a bit of encouragement from my Lady, yes!"

"So Mordhaus stands without their magic? Are you sure...?"

"My Lady can handle it lad. She's an old soldier, remember. She's still got more than a bit of the martial in her."

"You think she can protect Mordhaus from Seth?"

"I reckon it'll end up looking a far sight better than this place!" Wotan laughed.

Ganesh put his head in his hands.

"All right, all right," said Wotan. "None of your moping, come on." He motioned to Ganesh. Ganesh sighed and wearily stood up, where he found himself crushed by one of Wotan's smothering hugs, capped by some earth-shaking pats on the back.

"You all right then?"

Finally released, Ganesh smiled wanly and wiped a tear. He nodded.

He could do this.

"That's one fine beard by the way!" Wotan enthused.

Ganesh smiled,rubbing his face. He could do this.



In another universe....

"Welcome, my friends," Ganesh greeted them.

"So, this is another universe?" asked Nathan. It looked sort of like Ganesh dude's house. Maybe there would be unicorns or some shit later.

"Well, to me," Ganesh explained, "This is my universe, and you fellows are from another universe."

"Whoa! So, in this universe, you're a pothead too?"

Ganesh grinned.

Charles sank down on the couch. "Guys. Just." He exhaled. "Thanks."

"We need you back!" Nathan declared.

"Yeah. Thanks. I miss...."

"You know those little cocktail sausages?" asked Nathan, sitting down next to him.

"Uhhh," said Charles.

"The onesch they get in the kitschen?" Murderface helpfully supplied, sitting down on the opposite side.

"They claim they CAN'T GET THEM ANY MORE!" Nathan wailed.

"Uh. Yeah. OK. Cocktail sausages."

"Alsos, I ams findsing i ams not likings da new season of Corazon de Azul." Skwisgaar commented, taking a seat opposite.

"Yeah, ams lacksing da dramaticsals dis season," Toki acknowledged.

"You guys want me to, uh, improve your Mexican soap opera?"

"It's actually from SANTA DOMINICA," Nathan explained.

"OK, anything else?"

"Da soap" Toki put in.

"Oh yeah, THEY CHANGED THE SOAP. You know. In the bathrooms.."

"Uh, OK. And you don't like it because...?"

"I just don't like the looks of it," Nathan growled. The rest of the band nodes solemnly.

"OK."

"Should we get out to the venue?" Ganesh, who had just breezes into the room, politely inquired.

"Where isch it again?" Mirderface grumbled.

"At the end of the known universe," Ganesh cheerfully explained. And, before Charles could shush him, added, "Near a catastrophic discontinuity that threatens to rip this reality asunder, causing all creation to crash into a singularity!"

There was a pregnant pause.

And then Toki asked the one question that was on all their minds.

"Will dey ams has cheese snacks dere?"

"All the cheese snacks you can eat!" Ganesh cheerfully assured them.



"Glad you could meet me today, babies, yeah!" Dick Knubbler was telling another version of Dethklok. Er, Death Frog, that is.

"Yeah, Uhhhh, what exactly are we up to today?" asked a very nervous looking Nathan.

"I thought I would take you babies off to a concert. Yeah. A really special concert."

"It'll be cool, doods. Believe me. I know da manager. He's totally fucked up," Pickles grinned.

Toki smiled and nodded.

"Dat ams sounds cool," Skwisgaar shrugged.

"I believe I can schpare the time from my schedule."

"Uhhhhhhh," Nathan said, pulling out a cell phone. "I may have to call Lavo."

Suddenly, Pickles snatched away Nathan's phone. He tossed it to Toki, who threw it to the ground, where Skwisgaar, in a move that would have made Hendrix himself pause, smashed his guitar on top of it,

"Oh, no, look what ams happens!" Skwisgaar grinned, picking up the shattered remains.

"Tch. Not making any schell phone callsch in the near future bro," said Murderface, patting Nathan on the back.

All eyes were on Nathan.

"Uhhh. I guess I'm going to a fucking concert?"

There were triumphant grins all around.

Comments

[corvidmoon.livejournal.com]

Agreed. Charles and Nathan are my two favorite characters with Pickles following close behind. I don't slash them but I certainly don't mind reading it.

I've been really bad lately though, I've got two separate stories rattling around in my brain but seem to lack the where with all to get them written down. *hangs head*

[tikific.livejournal.com]

It seems like, sometimes, I have time to read OR time to write, but not both.

(Or, uh, time to sit around writing comments I guess!) :D