The white sticky ghost looked like it was preparing to charge them again, but a proton beam
zapped it, trapping it in the air. A trap was thrown out and he was sucked into it. The demon
packing an unlicensed nuclear accelerator strapped to his back now had his sights on the
band, which had resumed running out of hell. The hellions were growing in number and
gaining on the tail of the band, but the quintet was able to bust through the entrance back to
safety in the physical world. Satan appeared at the entrance and screamed, “You win this
round!” before he disappeared back into his lair.
After the band got used to the fact that none of them were dead any more, they discussed
what they needed to do next. They could return to the studio and finish up the demo that was
collecting cobwebs, or they could create T-shirts in hopes that they could earn some extra
money even though they don’t have any decent recordings to play for people that might make
someone have interest in a shirt nor do they play shows often.
The choice of priority was very clear to them. They made T-shirts, which very few people
bought (but we greatly thank the ones that did!). The unfinished demo is to remain untouched
for even longer.
The band was confused. Many bands take on iconic, legendary status after they die (another
reason to get the demo done!) but CID remained just as obscure as they did before Creidhne
killed everyone except for Brian (refer to Chapter 4).
The band discussed and figured out that posthumous record sales often are superior to the
sales of material put out by living bands. Therefore, if a posthumous recording comes out, it
gets impressive sales. So the next logical step would be to play a posthumous show. Any
group of dead people can release a new album, but how many dead people can perform live?
The band decided that they would play a show, and they would sell out of their shirts and get
a good reception since this is happening after they died. The band of course failed to take into
consideration that bands that gain popularity posthumously were popular before they were
dead, people had to know and care that they died, and while 4/5 of the band did die, 0/5 of the
band is currently dead right now. They aren’t even undead or show any signs of death. They’
re just as alive as they ever were. How’s that for a cop-out resolution?
After not playing a real show for about 7 months, the band chose to play at a small bar in a
faraway town with a bunch of bands that they really have nothing in common with aside from
all the bands having band members. As the motionless band played, the crowd was very clad
in disinterest, sitting through them waiting for Whorrid and Ingrown Toenail to play.
This was not right. This was not right at all. They were Clad in Corpseness, and should have
gotten a great reception. Perhaps the fact no one moved hurt things a little, but that cannot be
helped due to the fact everyone in the band was sober. No booze, no stage presence. But
that’s beside the point. They were playing their first posthumous show, and deserved a better
reception. Sadly, only one person took note of this performance. And that was Creidhne.
Creidhne was most displeased at what was happening that night. As terrible as their reception
and stage presence was, the band did sound good. And this was partly due to someone in the
band getting a new amp he could barely afford, and spending that kind of money sends the
message that this band is intending to play even more shows. This cannot be. Creidhne
watched as the band he slew had risen from the dead, and played the whole set quite
proficiently to a very apathetic audience. Creidhne took some comfort in noticing they did not
sell a single T-shirt, but that joy was small and fleeting. Creidhne had accomplished his long-
term goal, only to see it be horribly undone. Creidhne could not sit by idly as this band played,
and he left his solitude to once again set things right.