It was again time for band glamour shots, so once again the band ventured off to the
woods. They had vowed never to return to any of the old woods because something
terrible always happens during the photo shoots, and of course this time would be no
different, but once different woods were found the band foolishly went there anyway. At
high noon no less, when the sun was administering its most brutal beat down of the day,
so it was a very sweaty band photo shoot. Sweaty and homoerotic apparently, even
more so than what the norm has been since Brian joined the band. There must have been
something in the water in the blue pump. It was so bad that even Coy was getting
involved in the gayness of it all, and he’s usually the most reserved during those times of
acting out of the closet. Brian is always the worst, the troll and Tyrone tied at second,
and John after them but that’s mainly him being the victim of having his chest grabbed.
He just has such ample bosoms that are very hard to ignore. And firm ones at that. The
Benter Bosoms are a lot firmer than the Brian Boobs. Coy even did some topless shots,
though in his defense they were more or less involuntary. It got so horrid that the poor
Cupcake Lady (I don’t even remember what her name is now, so she’s back to her first
name) had to stop taking pictures until these guys got it all out of their system. They are a
metal band after all. They can’t have photographic evidence floating around that has any
implications of homosexual tendencies (oops). The band’s behavior during the photo
shoot could be accurately described as un-medicated two years olds with ADHD on a
caffeine binge. But to show growth in the band, Tyrone destroyed a much smaller
percentage of the forest than he did the last time they went photo shooting. And after
massive amounts of “soccer practice,” some decent looking photographs of a very ugly
band were in existence. And as soon as the photos were done, the band was whisked
away in their collective longboats for the day’s other activity.
They were playing a block party. Why on earth they decided to play a block party isn’t
really clear to anyone, but they played it. Before the show the band kept stating the
obvious by mentioning this is the worst thing they have ever done, and the troll stated with
a smirk how it’s only getting worse. Tyrone showed up with a mysterious duffle bag,
which would be the worse. The troll and Tyrone ran off together laughing into the
practice space with the bag of fun. John followed them down to the basement and saw
the two were getting naked. He commented in shock about how they are taking off their
clothes, yet wouldn’t leave the basement. He stayed and watched them change. John
John John. It’s funny when we make suggestive comments and grab at your man titties,
but watching us change is just a tad creepy, like, extremely creepy. But John stood in
wonder at the outfits the singer and bassist were wearing. They were so badass, meaning
the outfits were horribly bad and they looked like a couple of asses. They had been
watching Faith No More videos and were trying to copy that look, but they really looked
more like neon vomit. The horridness of these outfits was comparable to Brian’s
muttonchops, which he still has not been forgiven for shaving off before the Jesusland
show.
The band walked out to play the block party to a very unmetal crowd. Mostly families of
people in the neighborhood, little kids of parents and the like who had spent most of the
day listening to hip-hop and mariachi bands. This show was the biggest bomb since
Hiroshima, and the pure bombtasticness of it would give King George a wet dream that
would double the weight of his mattress. Thankfully, a perfectly played set would sound
atrocious to this audience, so the fact the songs would butchered so badly it would make
the owner of a meat market blush didn’t matter a great deal. Note to Brian: take your 8
shots of Captain Morgan after we play the show.
After they were done tormenting the neighbors a salsa band rushed out to quickly make
people forget that CID even played. And with the salsa band playing, the troll and Brian
were dancing up a storm. Very terrible white boy dancing that is. Alas, the troll’s
girlfriend was unable to attend the performance (in hindsight, probably a good thing). But
the Bacon Goddess was there (see parenthetical note for the Cupcake Lady). The troll
and the Bacon Goddess acted almost as if they knew about the rumors that were being
spread about them and were intentionally hamming it up to further fuel the idea that there
was some weird love triangle going on. Creidhne did not make an appearance at the
block party. I must say the band is getting a tad disappointed. The God of Metal used
to be a prominent force in their life, and they were in the middle of an epic war. Does
Creidhne even care anymore? Where has he been? Granted, the recent band activity
has been so abysmal that there really is no need for Creidhne to do anything to sabotage
it, and it’s not like anything he ever did benefited the band in any way, but it would be
nice if we knew he still cared. Oh Creidhne, I pine for you!
The morning after the show the troll stood in front of his bathroom mirror. The unclean
feeling of what they did the day before could not be washed off (note to the dirty troll: at
least try washing it off before you come to this conclusion). The Faith No More outfits,
the gay behavior, and worst of all, being out in the sun for all those hours. The troll had
reached the point of dishonor where only heavy metal sepukku could absolve his sins.
He picked the razor in his trembling hand and stared himself down in the mirror. He dug
the razor deep into this thin trollish hair, scraping it back across his scalp as clumps fell
into the sink. He started this act in a reverse Mohawk fashion, which would look so
ridiculous he would have no choice but to finish the job. He finished shearing himself, and
was quite surprised. He looked good with a shiny bald head, which is extra impressive
since he has a major handicap in his ability to pull off a shaved head look since he
happens to be white. If he were black there would be no stopping his sexiness, but since
he is white, his shiny bald head is demoted down to “presentable.” The band members
would not approve, nor would The Cupcake Lady, and much criticism was had over his
new look when it debuted at Fort Big Sexy. But the Bacon Goddess now totally wanted
to do the troll, so if John wants to keep his woman I advise you take a razor to your giant
frosty head.
***
Little did the band know Creidhne was keeping as watchful an eye on them as he did in
the days of his constant tormenting of them. He does care about what the band does,
and wants to do everything he can to destroy their progress. The truth is, you don’t need
a fire extinguisher if nothing is burning. He could have sabotaged the show if they tried
playing at a venue appropriate for their music. And with the troll’s new hairdo, it looks
like he can take an extended vacation. Creidhne may have finally triumphed over this
band, a band that doesn’t even have a decent demo or T-shirts.