International pop noise-core punk sensation Doris took the stage in front of a sold out crowd
with dancing trendy emo kids. As the band tore into its smash hit single “The Bulls Play the
Pistons,” something was very odd amidst their sonic chaos. The troll was on stage playing
bass with this band, winning the approval of all the fans in attendance, despite not hearing any
of the songs before he stepped on stage.
After the epic (9 ½ minute) set, Doris got off the stage and CID set up for their set. But
disaster followed, as if Creidhne was on top of things that night. 90% of the people left the
hole in the wall Polish bar after Doris played, leaving CID with an audience of 5 people. The
band went straight into their more aggressive material, but sadly, due to the large amounts of
alcohol 3/5 of the band had consumed, their playing sucked. It was easily the worst show
they had ever played. Following this atrocious performance, Tyrone decided to wander
around outside, bringing in a random person who had been hitting the crack pipe pretty hard.
The random crack head was dancing and talking to the band that followed CID during their
performance, and ended up drinking Coy and Tyrone’s alcohol. As this wasted stranger was
break dancing on the floor, he revealed his identity as Creidhne. Taking everyone by surprise
with his shape shift, his minions came pouring through the front and back doors. Everyone in
the bar was killed that night.
Coy woke up in deep sweat with his heart racing and head pounding. He had way too much
to drink the night before. But the dream he had had was so vivid it felt like it may have been
real. But it couldn’t have been real, because he was alive. Creidhne didn’t kill him last night,
that incident happened a while ago. And he got better. Well, technically John killed him, but
Creidhne played a part in it. But was that show even real? It couldn’t have been real. They
could have never played that badly, nor would the troll ever play in any noise-core punk band.
And while Tyrone does do a lot of questionable things, he would never invite some random
crack head from the ghetto into a show.
Regardless of what happened on March 27, Creidhne did have real plans for Clad in
Darkness. He ever so wanted that band to die, but was too lazy to dirty his own hands. So in
his 903rd attempt at exterminating the band, he sent down one of the most horrific
abominations known to man. This creature was fuzzy with a round head. It was purple, and
Boobah was its name.
This horrendous purple blob invaded Fort Big Sexy when Tyrone was in the john (the room
with the toilet, not his band mate… this is not that type of story). The four other members of
CID defended themselves against the purple hell spawn but failed miserably. Boobah had them
all incapacitated and was ready to finish them off when Tyrone flushed and came back
downstairs. Tyrone was familiar with Boobah’s type, as it was a large part of Ronebard’s
folklore. As legends have it, Boobah was a demon from a cataclysmic event that nearly
destroyed the population of Ronebard many centuries ago. And Tyrone was not going to let
Boobah make them Clad in Genocide.
Boobah pounced at Tyrone, slamming his purple round head into his crotch. Tyrone stumbled
back momentarily but was not fazed by his testicular punishment. Boobah appeared baffled,
as this attack is what took out the rest of the band. Tyrone started screaming obscenities and
tackled Boobah, biting it and ripping its purple flesh off before severing the head. He then
stomped on the pieces and made sure Boobah would never return by flushing half of its body
down the toilet. Its head ended up a pike (actually it was a drumstick) to be displayed as a
warning for other characters from children’s television shows who might think about visiting
Fort Big Sexy.
Curiously, it was discovered in this purple-headed demon’s attack that Tyrone does enjoy a
good smack in the crotch. So, after asserting his power by slaying Boobah, he stood with his
legs spread and had his band members take turns smacking his junk with assorted items in the
practice space, like frost giant statues and maces. And so, the new band pastime of
Frosteabagging was born. This was probably for the best, as such practice was likely to lead
Tyrone to sterility and prevent him from reproducing, inflicting Children of Filth upon the
world, while the masochistic singer dreamed of a Japanese tour where he can hire Asian
women to trample his testicles.