planetpissed

[planetpissed]

aaaaaugh…

There you go. You like it? It’s sin-thetic fruit of the Zaqqum tree. Keeps me sane, buddy. Keep it going.

The troll continued to pull from it. 

Who the hell is this asshat?

Please, ‘Asshat’ is my father’s name...

Disturbed the dead fellow read his thoughts, Murder flinched. His diaphragm reacted to the movement and caused him to hiccup and snort boiling, red hot magma-bile up his throat and out his nasal cavity. Part of it splashed onto the living hellhound pipe, it snarling at the startle.

 KEAUGH! KHHHAEGH! KHUEEGH!

aaaaughhh…

RAAUGHRF!! RAAUHFFF RAUGHFF!!

aaauuughh…

It didn’t distract him long, however. He kept smoking - as putrid as the sensations sounded, his demon-troll-state found it pleasant, akin to drinking pints in a sauna. He gathered himself as his tears finally ceased.

 As weird as this random encounter is tonight, the bassist can’t label it as a bad one. Thank you, Son of Asshat, for this… What did the guy say this was again? Better yet, who was this guy? What’s his actual god damn name?

Oh, come on, now!

You know me, buddy... Your band tried to summon me after you all did it for a game commercial, remember? You all wanted to see if I’d ACTUALLY help you order a good pizza if you managed to pull it off? I apologize, but I haven’t a clue what a good pizza would be... Any human food that makes it down here turns to ash once the dead touch it. 

…?

I���m Death. You died not too long ago. God status keeps you golden, though - you aren’t bound here. Lucky bastard.

He hoisted his legs and propped them at the edge of the ferry, revealing a set of stocks around his ankles.

Looks like the both of us are cursed for now, though, aren’t we?

...

Ok. So. He’s dead. Murder kind of gathered that, himself. What an interesting factoid, “Death”.

Pops and buzzes to you, all those words? 

The troll would rather keep smoking. Smoking’s good for you. Doctors used to swear by it, you know? They stopped that health-benefit narrative for Big Pharma-

Uh oh. You haven’t forgotten who you are, have you?

Uh, have you seen him? 

He’s… Murder…? 

Murderkrakish, the Lake-of-Fire Troll? Soon-to-be Gatekeeper of the Doomstar? And he loves eating bones? And hating himself, don’t forget that! Sulking is IN, baby!

…This might help; if you don’t remember, your name is William Murderface. Ring any bells?

..!

Oh, it was ringing many bells. It was as if Death had a bucket of ice water and dumped it onto Will’s head. Murderface stood up, eyes wide in shock he forgot such information, trying his best now to secure it into his mind. 

I AM MURDERFACE! 

Bassist of… A BAND! // My parents died of a MURDER-SUICIDE! //

I am a WARRIOR!

FUCKING CHRIST!

His jaw didn’t drop - it clenched. So hard, if he were still mortal, his teeth would crack. The smoke mix burned into scorching fire;

aaauuuuuggHHHH!!

Hyehhyehhyegh...

Your bull-man mommy’s not here, bubba. How about you join us on the ferry, instead of sulking at the lake crossings of lamentation and woe?

I promise we’ll bring you back before curfew…

Pipe retrieved, now being placed in a pocket,

We need to get some music back into your life. 

He cradled the beast’s head, and looked at him with eons of experience. How can the macabre be so assuring? 

Death understood - he’s complicated, confusing. Harsh. But underneath it all… accepting.

And incredibly disarming.

 Death opened Murder’s mouth wide…

…and crammed his arm down his throat. 

Easy! Easy… We need to… make sure… you’ve got one…

Thereeee we go… don’t be shy.

Relax… Open your heart up…

Ok, don’t move. Stay right there…

You’ve got a big heart for a troll, you know that? Try not to rock the boat...

After some blind searching, he hooked fingers around something, pulling the slobbery object out.

THERE WE GO! PHEW!

It appeared to be a coin, or medallion of sorts.

Here, Charon. Catch.

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

…Murder fucked up past the point of no return. He wasn’t even trying to self-sabotage anymore. Yet he still blew it. Was this the consequence for his actions in the past? His final punishment?

 God, that really was the case, wasn’t it? Was this what Hell had in store for all of his shitty choices and weird thoughts? Was he seriously too late to redeem himself? That's not fair! He wasn't even given a chance to REALIZE he could be a better person! To... its full potential, anyway!

...

...Who was he kidding? He couldn’t defend himself. He knew he deserved to be in a spot like this since birth. Such reality made his heart feel like an anvil in weight, crushing his spirit.

The Bass-Beast sat and wept, his only company being the passing live corpses in the river current, and the fleshy ground with eyes and teeth that he sat upon. 

Good thing about being away from his brothers, is that they didn’t have to see him weak - something he considered showing one’s true emotions to be. 

True brave men internalize and repress, damn it!

He wheeze-sobbed until it was out of his system, hearing something slosh across the water while his face drip-dried.

…?

The beastly bassist looked hopeful, to wince once he realized it wasn’t who he thought it was. 

How disappointing- it wasn’t even one of the usual demons…

Instead, it was a peculiar sight of two people crossing on a ferry. 

The one who rowed forth looked like a gaunt, faceless grim reaper. The other person was a leather-vested muscle-punk with a skull-face and middle-parted, shoulder-length hair. He was smoking from a pipe of sorts...?

…

AGh!!

A corpse from the tide reached out to get a grip to the ferry’s bow, his legs dragging back towards the hull, mumbling and gasping;

Let me on... let me on, damn it... 

…You want to hit this shit? Too bad...

NO OBOL,  NO PASSAGE…

WHAM!

[GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD.]

The reaper swiftly lifted his oar out from the brimstone current and hooked it onto the lost spirit. A subtle spritz of mildewed brain and soggy scalp smacked against the outer shell of the vessel. His face clung to the sharp paddle.

Aaaaaughlllgghl.. ghlAAAAAAAAAUGH!

BEAT IT, LEADHEAD.

!!!

Murder blinked. What the fuck just happened?! He felt lost in the environment, and a bit scared he’d soon be hit with the oar, too. 

He wiped his eyes, focusing on the water in front of him instead- The fears of being whacked were lower than the fear that he’d miss the microscopic chance of his brother attempting to save him again.

…

…But it was still scary as shit, man!

He waited for the boat to pass.

However, it didn’t. As the boat approached, it slowed down. The paddle even dragged itself in front of Murder, almost mocking him.

In the reflection of the water, the bassist was greeted by a skull visage joining him,

looking over the edge of the ferry… analyzing. They pulled out their smokes again, dryly asking;

You gotta point it to me, troll-head. What’s so captivating down there?

They WERE mocking him! What assholes! The troll-head looked at the flapping skull and sneered. The only skull who talked that he liked, was Boneface!

…Facebone. Bones. Face..?

No, not that, too!

Murder bellowed out in despair, claws cradling his own head.

Aughhhhhhhhhhh..!!! Relax, big fella. Here... Clear that head up.

The face-fleshless-fuck shoved his pipe into the troll’s mouth. 

This smoking device looked as though it were alive in itself... When the krakish inhaled, the mix in the chamber moaned in tired agony as it cherried;

aauuuuggh aaaaaaaughhh…

A smell adjacent to hot formaldehyde and burnt hair tickled the back of the troll’s throat and sinuses.

It was definitely poison he tasted on his tongue, it tingled and stung a bit, too… and was paired with a sickly sweet aftertaste.

Sounds absolutely horrific. But it was smooth. And somehow managed to satiate the empty, achey feeling within the troll’s gut.

...

Oooh, that’s nice...

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

Carrying it to the edge, 

the Bass Beast set it as gentle as he could back into the water. 

As it reacclimated, it gave him a confused glance...

pshht p b p b p b !

before deflating the hell air from within it. It swam away with haste, the demon now left to himself.

Gahh... Murder not doing the action he was named upon?! Enacting a catch and release maneuver, like some soft woman?! Someone fetch him a gin sour and play some Meredith Brooks- he’s turned into a bitch! That was so lame! Why did he do that? He should have tried to eat the damn thing! 

But..

...He felt like that, before. Gasping for breath, wanting help. Only for those perfectly able to lend a hand watch you suffer... 

“If we ever see eachother face-to-face again, I will fucking drag you down to the bottom of the sea, and laugh while you drown...”

...

There was nothing to laugh about with that type of brutality. 

Why laugh at your brother drowning? The right thing would be to try to help, especially if he were... 

...

N...icholas?

…

Nelson?

...

Nixon..? God, no...

Oh goodness. He could remember Meredith * fucking* Brooks, but not...? Come On! What was his name?

 Murder couldn’t remember his brother’s name, or his other brothers’, for that matter. 

What the fuck?! 

What was wrong with him?! He whined aloud at the discovery, worried a blood clot was in his brain. 

His brother! The Brutal One! The one with long black hair. The one that liked salty food and beer, the one that liked dating girls that weren’t worried about getting messy while eating barbeque. The one that loves fishing and hunting and playing games… gets excited getting the mail, even if it’s presorted junk.

His voice, his pfft-ahahahah laugh, his groans... his scream. How it evolved through the years in ways Murder didn’t even know possible. Naturally getting deeper, the gravel tone that few could pull off. 

Murder’s favorite part was that this brother always had your back.

Always.

Through thick and thin. The numerous fights they had… it was all salvageable in the end.

… Was.

Not is.  

Why did it go this way? Why was Murder so unfortunate to destroy anything good in his life? Worst of all, why be here, at a source of water, hoping his brother would swim through it and get him out of this neverending nightmare like he tried once before? He’d drown him, just like he warned. 

At least he wasn’t completely alone, here.

Those demon monsters treasured him. It made Murder feel emasculated... he looked forward to them giving him attention, eager to be appreciated and adored.

He couldn’t explain it. When the demon council interacted with him, when their schedules allowed it, they treated the beast-bassist like he was their fucking bread and butter. It reminded him of a robot from his past.

The area they put him in was warm and serene alongside the brimstone waterline. It... was also vacant , for the most part. 

Murder grew considerably since he’d been there, too. Horns began to jut out, which made sleeping positions limited and aggravating. 

He wished he could articulate himself better so he could ask them for help, but his throat and tongue were warped. He could only wail like a pathetic cryptid. 

…Maybe he’d learn to speak again, and have a conversation with one of them to make sense of this mess.

...

Or maybe this would be his life, forever.

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

 “You don’t need to worry about your past life. I took it from you . Manager Crow doesn’t need to know about a government memo...

“ He needsch to focusch on Planet Pissch. You are not a General. You are my Manager. Dr. Gibbetz’sch nephew threw that boot that broke my nosche lascht month. ”

“…”

“The kid that threw the shoe was a Gibbetz? That’s brutal. ”

“ No schit, scherlock!”

“Ooooh, that sounded like Murderface.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely- I mean, Abscholutely, Maschter.”

Crozier stood half-manually stunned in the elevator, silently suffering through the three-and-a-half of them cackling. 

Hough-hough-hough-hugh! Hohohoh hah hoh!

AHHHH HAHAHAHAHAAAH!  AHHHHH-HAH!

Eeeghyeghegh hegheh heh-

>>>

AAAAAAAAAAUGHHHH!! REEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGHHHH!!!

Murder kept trying to relocate himself in the water, frantic and desperate. Moaning rotten bodies and debris flowed through the brimstone river, making it the more frustrating to properly search.

O- oh . He got a hold onto something. No- it was gripping onto him ! It felt like a hand of some sort! 

Murder feverishly pulled up-

to see it was a... 

...What the fuck is that?!

It was jaw-locked past his knuckles, biting as hard as it could down on his hand. Not bone-breaking tier, but enough to make the cartilage 

crunch!

…

sucklsucklsucklsucklsuckl

?!?!?!?

...suckl.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHH!!!

++eeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEk!++

With a scared, harsh whip of the troll demon’s wrist, the fish (..?) flopped to the ground. It tried to tumble back to the water, failing miserably as the hot hellgrounds scorched it.

Murder watched as it tried its best to flip back onto its stomach in order to crawl, eyes staring at the water feet before it as it choked on the brimstone-tainted air... skin sizzling as it pathetically writhed…

++Hkkkk…Hhhhghk.. !++

A gross peep left its frog-like mouth, and their long, trendrilled fins began to crisp up and burn down.

++!!!++

…!

…

“Pfft. Fuckins pathetic. Looks at him, gasping like a fish, with no answer to pukes-out in his fats belly!”

…

Murder growled, grabbing the thing… somewhat carefully with both his claws, as if it were an expensive artifact. 

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

“…I think he’s rotting your mind, like mold.”

“I’d say more like fungus.”

 “Mold is a fungus... His stupidity is rubbing off on you. Be careful .”

“Lighten up, Crow.”

Sal stepped in, covered in blood.

“On the other hand, your concern makes you a great manager .”

Orlaag pushed through, blocking Sal from taking another step around the shards.

“So it’s true ! Spirits do look at mortals through mirrors! Fascinating.”

“Seven years of bad luck now, huh?”

Murder was a tad perturbed by the idea. 

Did the bassist really get the upper hand as a krakish in hell ? 

What were those idiot demons feeding him? 

Needing to prove himself a man and not a wuss worried about superstitious bullshit, Murder unzipped his pants and walked to the toilet, peeing as he talked.

“Seven years of dark forces watching you is brutal, so pipe it. Want me to get into character and rip one near your face, or better yet - move my stream and fill that shit-lid you call a mouth?”

“…”

He didn’t hear a response.

“Hm. Your cigarette might set the detector off. Better smother it before the smoke rises.”

 The stream began to move slowly out of the toilet, against the wall, spritzing the tile of the shower wall. 

Crozier scowled, cringing at the forced edge and piss particles hitting his exposed shoulder.

“… Jesus, get your head out of your ass! ”

“The behavior is getting more convincing, Master.”

“Why, thank you, Orlie.”

“Once you have the strength to stand, Manager Crow , we’re going to meet up with ‘ CEO’ Stampingston to prep for ‘ The Record Label Meeting’ this afternoon. He should arrive at the top of the hour... so let’s get ready.”

>>>

...

...

...

“ Gentlemen... ”

“You’ll find what Chesterfield has set up at the hospital to be more than satisfactory. He and his crew have blown it out of the water.”

“And what about today, Stampingston?”

“We’ll do our usual conference, and then we’ll observe the new studio room. Which, is my personal favorite. I think you’ll love it, King .”

Sal smiled, rubbing Murder’s back. “Excellent... Since we’ll be back up at the surface, I should put my gear on.”

“Asge we go and enact the next steps, 

“I need to work on how to perfect thisch lischp.”

“Why don’t you ask Dr. Gibbetz for assistance on his phonetic profile?”

“Oh...”

The Senator grimaced.

“He’s... still on leave.”

“Ah, What happened?”

“You... don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“...My apologies, General. You’ve been so deeply involved in these steps of our project that you’ve missed the last couple of meetings. I gave the memos to Orlaag, I thought he sent them to you..?”

Crozier turned to Orlaag. The redhead smiled with soul piercing eyes. 

“ I’ve been trying to get into the Orlie character. He’s an asshole to his manager. So I didn’t.”

“…Horseshit.”

“He’sch been out helping his family with an emergency. Hisch ! Damn it. ”

“What?”

“Crozier, the meetings have no value to you at the moment.”

“I’m a four-star general, what the hell do you mean-”

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

Manager Crow’s body was too stressed to speak. He took moments to pull in oxygen, the lack of blood making him strain as he thought;

[...Must you pick that spot everytime? ]

< It’s not intentional. Force of habit. Hard to focus when Ginger Rasputin is telling me about how Jupiter is somehow affecting how I act .>

[If you don’t like that, you should ask him to update you on politics.]

<First thing in the morning? I’d rather eat cement.>

Murder snickered at the sink. He began to yap to the General, rinsing the blood off his mug with steamy-hot water and a rag.

“I appreciate your reliability, Crozier. How does Burzum’s sound for breakfast?”

Crozier groaned.

“Heh. Good.” 

Will dried his face with a hanging cloth, prepped at the mirror to scrub at spots he missed with the wet rag.

“...!”

But something was off about the mirror;

His reflection was not him .

It was HIM.

!!!

!?!?

“ Hckk..How-HOW are.. you-”

!!!!!!!!

“ HCKK... CKKKK.. . Scht-”

!!SHATTER!!

Hitting the floor like a sack of spuds amongst the glass, the shaggy bassist gasped as if he breached the surface of water. Crozier could hear a clamor across the house. Orlaag was trying to calm someone down.

“...The hell happened? Why’d you do that.. ?”

“. ..!”

Crozier adjusted the shower curtains to see Murder staring at him in horror. His eyes were bloodshot and bright. Massive bags under his eyes. He shivered, looking at his body and surroundings, feeling his face. 

“ Aauunnghh...nnuuuuuughhh...! ”

Holy shit - it was Murderface. William .

He was back inside himself, discombobulated, winded.

Crozier had no clue what to do but look at him back, frozen. The bassist still had his wind knocked out, moaning in a mix of fear and pain. 

“… ? ”

He reached a hand out to try to touch the dying man in the tub, to see if he was real.

But as soon as he got kinked motor skills back, he lost them.

His veins pulsed out dramatically. Black blood leaked from his nose,

eventually fainting forward and jerking back up in a gasp.

GYYAGH!

His pupils started to grow narrow again, skin greyer.

“... Whoo-hoo-hooopsie. Heh! Looks like he’s beginning to wake up a few days earlier than expected .”

“Had… that happened before?”

“Him poking through? No-hohpe,” Murder chuckled, picking at the shards of mirror around him. 

“Well, his essence has been present throughout, but not his consciousness. A little alarming. Hear me choking on blood in the other room? Even threw me off guard. Hoo, that hurt! Well, he could have lost control of his bowels, thankfully he didn’t .”

“You’ve been piloting him for weeks now... you realize that..? With no breaks?”

Murder looked authentically surprised at the General, blinking a few times before speaking again. 

“... Really ?”

He thought to himself. They were so busy setting things into action for when Murderface came back to reality. What they’d say to him, how to execute the next steps... Meticulous work, but it was fool-proof. The naive bassist would believe anything his biggest supporter told him. All Salacia had to do was... pretend he had a heart. 

What was he even thinking - He had a heart! It... wasn’t his, but...

Will could share with the Half-Man for the time being. For the sake of the Project.

He got up and shifted to Crozier, a bit softer, now. Going into his pocket, Half-Face pulled a pack of cigarettes out, offering one to the bloodied general.

“Just a few more days, General. Then he’ll have his break, before his big break. ”

"..."

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

“O, my king... tsk tsk...

“I can’t tell which body felt more... envious... today. The confidence this week surpasses this... temporary grey cloud above us. Hm... 

“You aren’t even awake. Yet here you are, growing on me like a… in layman’s terms, a foul venereal disease, hm-hm-hmm… I was scared I’d be a bit burdened, to be blunt… but truly, I can’t get enough. First this was for business… I feel things I haven’t felt in so long.

“It is no sacrifice to invest my energy in you. It brings me reawakened life.”

Sal made Murder shift his head towards him. He wished he’d speak freely. It would be awkward trying to talk to himself anymore than he’s had to already. He wanted Will to make decisions. He wanted to feel how Murderface thought through things when he was awake.

“I... look forward to becoming your friend. I’ve gotten such a small taste of your life, while I'm in there. 

“...I crave more. I’ll be patient. I’ve made some... adjustments while you’ve been out.”

For example, while piloted;

 Murder these last few weeks took distilled water showers, scalding hot , just how the half-man liked it.

The first attempt at washing Will’s hair was a bit of a shock to Orlaag and Salacia - the ‘fro was more or less a matted block due to self-neglect, and the back of his neck was spotted with mange.

Prescribed ointments helped the stinging pain it caused. Unscented lotions and washes to keep his eczema from spreading seemed to help. Will was onto something, wearing shorts all the time.

It helped circulate air - when he sweat, his pores would be relieved once the breeze cooled things down.

After getting massive amounts of plaque scrapped, and tonsil stones removed, Murder now brushed his teeth twice a day. Salacia couldn’t stand the fuzzy feeling of his teeth, how grit crunched each time his jaw shut.

The half-man felt a tad ashamed - he got too cocky with drinking boiling beverages, and discovered he most likely gave the bassist a case of burning mouth. Orlaag would drip oil tinctures on his tongue every few hours to help.

The tinctures tasted awful. But food didn’t. Salacia’s palette had formed around flesh - everything else tasted like dirt. Not on Will’s body! Breaded marinated chicken, BURGERS, salty fried potatoes, over processed chemically modified gold, is what it all was. He understood Dethklok’s obsession with Doritos ! 

He could chew it, taste it, swallow, and enjoy the sensation of being full - a feeling Salacia hadn’t felt since he himself was still human. 

Eating normal human food now was akin to guzzling a bottle of ipecac, though - his body would reject it soon after, violently . 

This led Murder to grow gaunt these last few weeks. This was a change Salacia did not enjoy-even he wouldn’t intentionally be so heartless to the Traitor.

To prevent the press from noticing the change, he wore baggy sweatshirts to look bigger as he searched for better solutions. The only things he could properly get the bassist to eat were small bits of soil foods (which never satisfied), or organic material in the form of tinctures, supplements, drinks, most importantly of this liquid variety...

Living Metal.

Both their empty stomachs grumbled as the thought crossed the Half-Man’s mind. It was time to start their routine.

“Let us begin our morning...” Sal murmured, pecking his muse on his head before the both of them stood up from the couch, walking separate directions, avoiding stepping on black-out drunk ‘groupees’.

Sal made it down a hallway, knocking on a door before opening it.

[GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD.]

The stench of stale lust hit him as the door was pushed through, a bedroom revealing the aftermath of last night. A group of men and women laid sprawled across the ground and bed.

On the bed, was the redhead of the posse - waking up, using the tummy of a corpulent escort for a pillow.

“ Good morning,” Orlaag yawned, adjusting towards the bosom of the unconscious lady, using his nails to knead upon her breast like a hungry kitten. 

< Is it time to feed, Master? I shall offer you my neck.>

He shuffled up.

<I musn’t make it more raw, dear Orlaag. Present an arm my way...>

Orlie did as he was told, offering his dominant side.

“…”

KLK KLK

SHNK!

<... What would you like to hear me think about today, Master?>

<... Amuse me with your astrology. >

<Ooh. Let’s see... 

<Jupiter shifts from Taurus to Gemini, now. We were focused and grounded, and now we dance in the space of curiosity and growth. Things do feel adventurous, wouldn’t you agree? I feel you thriving now that Murder arrived. He’s been a generator to your spirit during the Project- >

“..Hagh..”

>>>

“...”

Pulling up from the tub, Murder stared into the eyes of Crozier, mouth dripping with blood.

"..."

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

“ EUGH. It smacks you right in the face ! My theory? I think the concert last month was a dramatic stunt. He’s still on contract, the band might be on hiatus, and now it gives Murder time to work on his side project.”

“You think so?”

“I-I want to believe it. I really like this Planet Piss stuff, now that we have more than Takin’ it Easy . I didn’t even know Will could scream, it sounds great!”

“Yeah, this shit’s insane. What about Dethklok, have they made any public response yet?”

“Not that I know of, no. Gee. Makes you think, maybe those mania-driven forum posts he’s made throughout the years could be valid.”

[GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD.]

“That’sch exactly why we had that funeral for my old schelf! That past me is gone. New Will has growth, and a much better headschpace.”

“I’ve been quite a fan of yours for nearly a decade, so seeing this risky change... That’s very brave. And, before I forget, congrats on five hundred million streams for My Name Is Murder , by the way.”

“Thank you! Thisch new band’s been eye-opening. I feel fuckin’ alive, man.”

Really? Majority said “No”? Hm…

Now, Planet Piss may stir trouble up with Crystal Mountain Records in due time, especially if this breaches contractual obligations. Is this by chance an independent release type of deal, funded by Murder’s pockets? Or are rumors of him being signed to a private label true , amongst its conflict? Damien Cornickelson responded to reporters this morning;

“Just what I need during my morning stroll and Duncan run, shitbirds. Look - you all are acting as if this is the first time members of Dethklok have performed a breach of contract. They’ve done that shit before several times. Right now, Planet Piss is a passion project Will’s doing on his own, it’s not a joint venture, not anything of the sorts. It could go anywhere -most likely bad places- or they could all settle it out in time and we can all renegotiate, it’s... in the fuckin’ air.” 

“You are the label, Cornickelson. You make the decision-”

“Hey. Get that camera the hell back. Too close for comfort. And are you fuckin’ high ? My favorite metal monkeys Dethklok make the decision, and they are on hiatus. Let me get my morning muffin and latte, get the fuck out of my face, and we will find out in due time.”

“What are you listening to in your dethpods, sir?”

“ My Name is Murder. ...It’s catchy, what can I say?”

“Scho, yeah, get ready, world. 

“Planet Piss, my pride and joy, is shaping up into a real class act. I’m free now, and Dethklok’s gonna have to suck it up. God, I wish I could see the looks on their fuckin faces, right now!”

“Well, Will, Not trying to rain on your piss-parade, but there’s some doubt they’ve even seen any of the new Planet Piss news, let alone heard your new single.”

“Heh, what? What’s that supposed to mean, are you trying to schay they are above me ?”

“God, no! Everyone here is obsessed with what you’ve released so far! You’ve heard about Deus Keep, right? The band is with a mysterious music guru in some unmarked island location. They have a strict no-electronic policy.”

“...You’re telling me they are acting like fucking hippies right now?”

“ Metalhead Hippies , sure. They announced their hiatus at the beginning of this month. Marty, wanna pull up one of their DETH Threets?”

“…”

“...HAH! Well ! They... must be hating it there!”

“Maybe you should find where they’re at, hop on a boat and give them a surprise visit, show them your new success!”

“Hah..! If only…”

“ If only... ”

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

I gotta say, for a lady like you..

You gotta smile more! Maybe a good ol’ joke can make some dimples show up, hm, sweetheart?

This one’s good. Ready?

Aheghm...

[GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD.]

CHK.

What went through your mind before I killed you?

BANG!

I AM THE DETH-SQUAD

MY “ONE-MAN” SHOW

MY NAME IS MURDER

DID YOU NOT KNOW?

 “Ermm… MidLifeCrisisCore, much? Don’t let the new advertising fool you.

"William Murderface has been known in the past to be homophobic, racist, he’s hyper-fixated with the civil war, the confederate army…

“Need I remind you of the Hedonist Gettysburg Play he wrote in the 2010s? I feel like someone needs to say it, with our small community of zillions. If you like William Murderface, do this world a favor and Kill Yourself-”

[STITCH INCOMING]

“WIIIIITCH! WIIIIIIIIITCH ! 

“I’m pissed that I’m sober!

POBODY’S NERFECT, SKANK! 

LET THE MAN GROW!

“AS A TODDLER HE WAS LEFT IN A BABY HIGH CHAIR FOR 38 HOURS WITH ONLY THE CORPSES OF HIS MOM AND DAD FOR COMPANY! HIS GRANDPARENTS ARE CONSPIRACY NUTS! HE’S FUCKED IN THE HEAD!

WHO IS SAYING HE’S A GOOD PERSON? WHO IS SAYING HE’S A VOICE OF REASON ?

IS HE TRYING TO BE A BETTER PERSON? JUST LIKE YOU SAID, “IN THE PAST!” I HAVENT SEEN HIM PULL HIS 2010 ANTICS IN A LONG TIME, MAYBE HE’S WISENED UP!

GOOD FOR HIM! LET HIM BE BETTER!

CHECKED YOUR BIO - YOU LIVE IN SOUTH CAROLINA!

WE GET IT, HE REMINDS YOU OF YOUR DAD !

OURF OURF OURF OURF

On the floor, on my hands and knees frothing from the lips like the rabid dog the internet makes me become...

AWRRROOOOOOO !!

...

Noodles, got anything you want to add?

“ I am a schlut for schophischtry… love the guy, even though he tried to kill me. I can fix him...”

“You can’t even fix a fold in bath towels with that new chin.”

“ It wasch a joke, Bobby…”

“Erm. Merp. Welp, it wasn’t FUNNY! Try this one on for size - what did Murderface say to his gynecologist during his pap smear?”

“ What ?”

*ppppprrrrrRrrRRRBWWRRRWAAPCK*

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

[Even though In this update (in character) I am hijacked by Half-Face, I understand a slice of this fandom struggles with media comprehension. I want to communicate this before it jumps out at you - this chapter ahead will have a handful of NSFW visuals. Most of it is an attempt to do a modern take of the fanklok convention artist alley, but for the web. The web can be crass, gross, and my thoughts are that Toki probably lets freaky platforms advertize on PlanetPiss.Com to infuriate Murderface. I want to shake the reader off course, as if they themselves are a Klokateer discovering Planet Piss coming to fruition. ...And that Toki’s influence onto the site as a prankster still somewhat exists post-hijack. Some of the (3) fake smut game ads are references to fanfics written by people on this very site, on AO3. I am choosing not to give credit to prevent harassment to strangers that my yeti self wanted to parody. This is a blue moon type of thing (if I ever even do it again for an update), so, for the squeamish adults out there do not fear, this is not going down a Horny Rabbit Hole! Viewer Discretion is HEAVILY advised!]

>>>

HONK HOOOOONK!

“What in God’s name gives you the gall to ride my ass?! Where the hell did you come from?! Pissin’ me off!”

“Gahhh, don’t you worry about it. I’ll take care of it, sweetcheeks.”

"…"

B L A M M O

OH MY GOD!

SKKKKKKRRRRRT

CRASH!!!

>>>

♪...♪...♪...

♪♪♪

Hohoh!

Wow… Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?

You could say that again...

UH OH!

What happened back there, huh?

I should have warned you, I’m a bit of a wild card. 

Sorry! Not sorry!

When I’m runnin’ this shit,

you’re just gonna have to enjoy the filthy ride. 

Do you really need a writer to say “viewer discretion is advised”, for every fucking chapter? Come on! This is from Archive of Our Own, , for crying out loud! This is nothing!

I did you all a favor. Found that idiot creator of this fan-bullshit, and tore them limb from limb before I hopped on the road.

Relax ! I’m fuckin’ with you. I asked if I could promote myself for the buffer, instead. Will Murder has a heart, people!

I didn’t appreciate that they blocked me, at first. Heheh, I’ll get that off my chest!

Hashtag, blocked gang! 🤝

So I made sure to go on one of my several separate accounts and tell this dumbass half my age that I’m entitled to their work, and they are obligated to love me. As any sane, confident, mature person would...💎🖤

WHEEZE!

 Covert Narcissism? I HARDLY know him!

After some gentle manipul-Ah.. After some persuasion, and an offer working for a fantastic underground corporation , viola. I have the wheel. Heh, technically, you have it. Lodged in your diaphragm, by the sound of you struggling for air. Must hurt. 

...

Where were we, again?

Oh, yeah! Bless yer heart...

Silly Willy Me shot yer tryhard pardner back there , diddnteye ? Aw, shucks!

This will take just a second, ma’am.

HOCK

PTOO!

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

The klokateer knelt down and pulled the channel pedal out from under the couch. As he did so, Wartooth kicked it away from his grasp -

the two watching it bounce past the coffee table.

“Ah...?”

“My lord?”

"..."

“... My lord?”

"..."

Abigail looked at Wartooth in concern. “Toki? Are you stuck?”

The rhythm guitarist blinked, shaking out his stiff position. “Ha-ha! Conks-ticks of In-tricks! Boy, am I thoisty! I orders to you bringings us some drinks, instead. Overpowereds, overruleds!”

Chuckling through a groan, the drummer compromised. He accepted that the marathon would be more tolerable if he got further wasted.

“Okey… Get some guitaraid, too. Skwisgaar looks dry.”

“I’ll be back shortly, sires.”

“Hey. Skwisgaar, you still with us?”

Skwigelf groggily wiped his bloodshot eyes. 

“ Ja. I feels weird.”

“Gad damn it, am I doing it again?”

“..Shit.”

“ Whats?”

“Pickle has the cheese touch, Skwisgaar.”

“…Oh? I don’t minds. My head doesn’t horts anymore.”

“And neither does mine, hah.”

The group looked at Nathan, happy he had his feet back on the ground.

“NAT’N!”

“CHARLES?!”

The vocalist walked firm towards Pickles to hug him. He didn’t notice the drummer shaking his head in time.

“Oh shet. Nathan, you might feel weird. I dunno why. I think the Doomstar made us all freaks.”

“ Yeah, I’m feeling it, god damn,” Nathan swallowed, looking at Skwisgaar.

“Thank you, all. For being... flexible? No. Caring . And-and patient. That’s the word. Two words .”

“ Pickle gots the cheese touch, Nathans,” Skwisgaar reached his lanky arm to hold his friend’s again. “Your hairs gettins so longs. I wants to brush its all outs and braids it. ”

“You can braid? Fuck yeah, mama, I’m uh. I’m down.”

“Oops! I’ve treeped and now I’m eever so slowlee falling over the pedal over heere! Clickeeng onto cable again! WoooaaAaahhh!”

“ALSO, UH,” the vocalist swallowed. “Sorry for acting so fuckin’ weird this week. I talk to whales and the Doomstar took me down a very rough ride last weekend. Watched Murderface go fuckin’ Cronenberg on me.

“...Tough crowd. Woo. OH, GUYS! CHARLES IS HERE FOR THE WEEKEND!”

Explosion realized the group was staring in horror at the television;

IN MEMORIAM, WILLIAM MURDERFACE 

Charles stood, focused on the screen as the others were.

“Pickles, turn the volume up.”

“Tonight, I’ve been invited to mourn the loss of Dethklok Bassist, William Murderface, up close and center at his funeral service in Tucson this evening. The worst part of today, besides his death, is the rumor spreading across the sands that his death was faked.

“…It was a closed casket, but, I don’t know. Let’s ask this group over here what they think.

“Excuse me, my condolences, hate to stop any held silence. Can I ask, you , sir. What do you think about the theory of Murderface and his state of being, right now?”

“ Well, it’s no theory, I know the truth. William Murderface did indeed die, thank-you-very-much. A real crying… sch ame… That’s ch why I’m wearing black-I’m mourning the death of a real dick. Paying my respect sch .” “Oh really? I can see that!” “ That’s why I’m enjoying a cigar. I only sch moke cigar sch for sch pecial occasionsh.” “With all due respect, if he’s dead, sir, then who is standing here before us today?”

The bassist scoffed, lifting his shades, licking his lips post-puff. 

“ My name is Murder. Did you not know? ”

[END OF ACT 3]

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

...

We… threw punches at first? I went for a headlock… Then the lightning made us feel like we were melting. He went to kick me and his heel went right into my shin, this gross numbness spread over me…

I didn’t hear him, but I felt Murderface screaming, bashing my character, but begging for me to not let go..? Back and forth, all these thoughts that contradicted themselves.

I felt how pissed off and terrified he was. I felt betrayed, jealous of myself for some reason..? ...And so cold and lonely... physically it was like I had the worst summer cold of my life, on top of it all I could barely control my arms, I began punching my own face and pulling at my hair… holding myself, rocking back and forth...

I dunno, it was…

Like he and I shared a head together. For a split second that felt like the longest fucking split second … Charles, I have never experienced anything like it before.

  <<Do you think it was an effect from the Doomstar? Salacia, even?>>

 I wish I knew. Part of me wonders if Murderface somehow caused it. The Doomstar’s made some fucked up shit appear within us. Then *SNAP*,

 we’re in the water. Which.. It’s funny - huh funny, not hah hah funny - because I was thinking of how badly I wanted to be back at the haus before the dethlights hit us. 

We landed near the main Mordland crate bay, got on a buoy.. He looked like he was already dead, then he.. 

...Uh. I can’t say anymore right now. I’ll lose it again.

<< I don’t want you to lose it. Take a moment to breathe... Salacia is an evil man, Nathan. His terror has no bounds. >>

I learned that up close and personal. 

<<Where do you think his body is, Nathan?>>

Charles, he isn’t dead. Well. He could be, but he’s still functioning. Hey, kind of like you!

<<I’m happy to hear your optimism, but he’s been lost at sea for a week...>>

You have to trust me, he’s not. Salacia is shaping him into some sort of weapon. Making him “stronger”. The old fuck has a whole cult with him, too. It was too fucking brutal watching what was happening to Murderface. You should know from me, that’s saying something. I saw it all, I was there .

<<You were there? How is that possible?>>

I left the whale in my vision when I heard Will call out to me. It was like I was tied to Murderface, I might still be, because he showed me he’s in the most metal danger. 

That’s why I haven’t slept. I’m scared of what I’ll hear him cry out next. Wherever he is… it’s nowhere good. 

<<Are you certain it wasn’t solely in the vision? I believe you saw what you saw, but I worry the visions might be metaphorical. You take things to its literal context - most of us do->>

Charles. Don’t be a dildo. It’s not a fucking metaphor, you damn robot…

Oh my god, his boots!

<< Huh ?>>

Will’s boots fell down into the deep after he was pulled into a pipe current. That’s no vision metaphor. I was awake when I saw it happen. 

I met three orcas that brought me to shore, they say we’re siblings or some weird shit. A metaphysical starfish has been following me around…

I’m going all over the place, I can’t fucking concentrate, gah... The worst thing, the worst thing I saw? I saw a bunch of old fucks take bites out of Will’s heart and prance around in his blood, while he was alive!

He was killed in front of so many people that cheered it on! Yet I know he still lives. I can still hear him. Can’t you?

<<You can hear him here? Remember, you haven’t slept in several days...>>

Can you hear this? You’re one to say that, when you don’t even sleep at all.   

<< Hah, is uh, that so?>>

  It’s a public fact! You charge up on batteries. Or something you plug in, or wind up. Or you need to recharge in the sun, like uh. WALL•E . That’s why you have lamps, because if you work too late you use them as backup energy.

  << Is it so wrong to like good lighting?>>

Beep beep boop, I am BOT MODEL CHARLES, I am a robot, I like to talk to people like I’m still their manager, yes I’m still fucking pissed about you retiring to become a religious nut, beep beep… 

<< Ah. Beep beep. I am a ‘religious nut’ for dedicating my entire life and death to Dethklok, which you are part of, beep beep. And ah...

<< Ok, I know this is silly, but hold me in your hands for a second, my legs are getting sore trying to stay afloat. 

<<Ahh, much better! Now I can see the light in your eyes, too. Fantastic. Thank you. <<...Nathan, I worry about you. Don’t keep all these things in. It’s a bad practice, you have so much support. You can always call me, if you need. Living in a volcano temple now, I‘d consider calls from you all a real treat.>>

I was scared I was going to lose my mind if I fell asleep, and Uh. You know how good I am at communicating that stuff. Good as in bad. I’m saying I’m bad at communicating. That I’m good at communicating bad. 

<< Even if you did lose your mind, you have friends to help you find it.>>

Please don’t tell the others this. I-I really am begging you, here.

 << Yes? >>

I fucking missed you, Charles. A part of us is missing without you here.

<< I miss you all, too. I meant to visit sooner, but with the world burning, I’ve been a bit occupied trying to inform myself with as much knowledge I can glean, so I can help you all to the best of my ability. <<I may not be your manager anymore, but I’m still a gear. Protecting you is something I will never stop doing- >>

THAT!

<<What ?! You’re gonna give this crab a heart attack !>>  

You don’t hear him? Murderface?

<<...Maybe this is a talent you have that I don’t. I uh. Don’t think I’m cool enough to be favored by whales- >>

Maybe I’m guiding you wrong with how I phrased it. Hmph. The thudding! You don’t feel that? Like a deep bass vibration?

<<…>>

…

...

<< Holy shit, I’ve-I honed into it! I thought you were messing with me. >>

You do feel it?

<<... It feels like a broken heartbeat. >>

It’s not mine. 

<<That’s ah, fucking brutal- >>

-Brutal, right?

>>>

“Can we please change this shit?”

“We haven’ts gotten to the part Christ-tina Aggs-soolaira and Missy Elliots sing Car Wash, Pickle! We commits to the marathons.”

“Gad…”

A klokateer stepped into the living space, approaching Wartooth.

“Sire…

 “...I do believe you forgot this in the kitchen?”

“Deaddy Bear! ”

Toki immediately grabbed it, hugging the stuffed toy as if it were a long-lost cat. 

“Gheheh . Is there anything else I can do for you before I head back?”

“Yeah, you. I order you to change the T.V. input back to cable.”

“Yes, my lord.”

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

“I’m gonna look fuckin’ zazz-

“AIE !”

“ Pukey feeling...Owwwh.. There’s that pukey feeling… ”

“Ah. Careful. Wet floor. Can someone put a wet floor sign down? Uh. A couple, if one can? Soon. As ah. Possible? ASAP? A.S.A.P. As soon as possible...Thank you.”

>>>

“Alright. Everything looks good! You are currently in water burned with Dethwater ’s isolated whale calls. You’d normally be safe to float around in there, but if the aquatic music volume is increased for these studies- in order to help your consciousness hone in-the water will become aerated. That’s why we have that head rest support there, formed to set your cranium in a safe spot, and to prevent you from being sunk to the bottom of the tank! How does the water feel?”

“Uhhh...It feels like... water .”

“Hooray! We’re closing the door. If you need to get out, simply push the latch-panel until you hear a click. Once the door is unlocked, you can pull it open. Charles will be connected to the setup out here, just like you in there. We’ll make sure… he’s already asleep . Bitter Night-Terrors, Mr. Explosion..!”

Tsshhh

“...Erlen, did we kill him?”

Ktch

“Hoh hoh, Dr. Meyer! I was going to ask you that-”

“Did I beat you to it-”

“Yes-“

“Hoh- did I-”

“Absolutely so-”

“My goodness!”

“Goodness indeed!”

“I can’t believe I-”

>>>

“Let’s do this…Queuing our recorded prophet tracks,”

“Overlaying it with Dethwater: Remastered, ReHydrated Edition..

“ Syncing Frequencies..

>>>

<< How’s this? Is that you? Can you hear me?>>

<< Nathan! It is you. Good.>>

Charles?

<<Yes, Nathan. I’m here. Edgar hooked me up. We’re for the time being, ah. Dream Linking. I’m not good at this stuff, but I thought you’d be comfortable talking to me about what you saw… You can hear me?>>

Yeah, but…You’re a crab, again.

<<What? What do you mean, ‘again ’? Huh. It appears I am a crab. This is weird.>>

You have claws. Can you even pinch me?

AGH!

<< Woah! This is... odd! I uh. Don’t think I’ve ever experienced something like this. Are all of your visions similar?>>

I think I made the Prophet really upset, that’s why she’s not here, now... most times, I’m swimming with her . 

<< Ah, I doubt you made her upset. The world is ending. That’s a lot on everyone’s schedule. I’m glad she’s not here, if I’m being honest. Finances? That’s a language I know well. Whale? Leave that for Jomfru. <<I’m here so you can articulate  your mind, and not have to worry about finding the words in a, well, corporeal state. <<What happened at the concert? Do you remember anything? >>

Well…

A lot happened. Murderface went crazy, headbutted a fan’s face into paste. We’d normally think that was brutal, right? But we couldn’t move when he did it. There was this weird energy about him. 

It threw me back to when I was a kid, fishing with my old man. Sometimes things would get quiet and feel off . Then we’d spot something lurking around for food, mostly alligators.

You can’t provoke them, you know? They’ll see you as a curious snack if you try.

Not saying that Murderface saw us all as snacks, but the way he looked at you... he was looking for where you were weak, which spot he should swing at first to knock you on your ass... he wanted to hunt us for sport, and that fan was the warm-up.

It wasn’t him - it was-

<< Salacia ?>>

How did you know?

<<I’m the High Priest of the Church of the Black Klok? I know these things, just uh. A fun fact. Magnus really threw you all off of our first Half-Man encounter with his revengeance charades, didn’t he? Damn son of a bitch, Salacia must have been pleased knowing that jackass narcissist would distract us all from the Falconback Project... << Ahem, pardon me. The prophecy told of a traitor within Dethklok. Salacia would have to persuade one of you, but I didn’t know he’d take the form of an infection. Do you know how Will caught it?>>

...Sometime before we got to the rooftop of the parking structure Toki and Abigail were at. We got chased by junkies, then the revengencers. That weird metal-masked guy could have gotten too close to him before Ishnifus stepped in. All I remember is his arm had dried blood on it when we were taking Toki and Abigail off of the crosses.

<< Hm .>>

We were at The Depths of Humanity, he got seperated briefly by this.. ass-kisser, but I doubt that was of any significance to the cut. He looked like your average douchebag.

<< I uh. I wouldn’t brush it off, but I agree, the priority is a little skeptical, drunk fan versus a whole pack of deranged former ones driven to kill you all. Did Will say anything to you when he attacked? He was acting crazy, I know .>>

He was acting rabid . Saying he wasn’t going to take anymore orders, he started hurting people, I wrestled with him, then we both got hit by this zap of lightning-

<< Which was from the Doomstar. What did you experience when you were shocked ?>>

I can’t even begin to explain. 

<< Can you try, for me? >>  

... Ugh...

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

“Nathan, are you aware of Sensory Deprivation Tanks?” Klokateers and scientists revealed themselves within the space. They appeared like a bunch of black squid and shellfish. 

One tried to pull him towards the tank,

..to get knocked out.

“GRRRRNNGHH!”

He turned towards the exit, to see a handful of the squid blocking it.

“AAAAAIIIIIIEEEGHHHHHHHH!!!!”

The walrus and shark covered each others ears, trying to plead with Nathan;

“ It’s okay, babe! Let it out! Find five things you can see in the space!”

“I knew this was pushing it!”

One of the Klokateers tried to block Nathan from prying gears away from the door.

“Sire, you are in good hands!”

It resulted in his arm being ripped off. It was a robotic prosthetic attachment, but brutal nonetheless.

“ Gheheh, well, shit..!”

“ Take deep breaths, babe !”

Strong hands grabbed Nathan’s shoulders from behind. Turning with a growl, the vocalist was face to face with a massive crab. 

“ Ok! That’ll do-”

Nathan got one small jab in, knocking the glasses off of the shelled being.

The next swing was caught, and gripped firm.

“Well, then. Looks like you’ve gotten ah. Stronger , since I. Saw you boys last.”

That voice.

“…”

“It’s uh. Been a while, hasn’t it?”

The vision realm crumbled, to reveal the crab to be out of all people in the world

“. ..Charles..? ”

>>>

“None of us were ready for that concert... 

“I didn’t think the Prophecy would be executed in that way…

“ But, the positive here is that we know who the traitor is... 

“Now we have to get William back, dead or alive.”

“ Ughh.”

“You did all that you could - All of you have made, ah, leaps and bounds. I’m. Uh. Proud of you, Nathan. Ready to head over to the tank? I think you’ll find it pretty great -ah- I mean dreadful, metal, brutal, even... ”

>>>

“...I could have sworn I cut my hand, an hour ago. What ..?”

“There’s pros to your screams, too, when you figure out how to, ah.. control their force. ..”

“..I. I’m really. Sorry, about. Y’know, at the hospital. Shattering your-”

“No no, feeling bad is silly, Nathan. I needed new glasses, my prescription was outdated, anyway.”

“And I’m gettin’ new eyes, babe! 

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

“RRNNGGAAAHHH ! ”

… Are you alright?

 “Aughhh..!”

He grabbed Toki’s mug, threw that right after.

He grabbed Abigail’s mug next -

-looking at her for a brief moment as if to apologize-

- before throwing that, too. 

What else could he throw at that stupid starfish? 

Nathan eyed the detached spiked balls on the floor, formerly from flails he and the boys detached and tried to play catch with a while back. 

When he grabbed one of the metal pieces, he could watch the replay of history in his mind, when Murderface sat them in that very spot;

‘Yeah, Hot-Potato-Where-The-Potato-Isch-In-Fact-A-Metal-Ball-With-Spikesch, schemes like a one-time schport. It schounded a lot better in theory, hah! Schit, we’re bleeding everywhere. I know a good cure for that! Let’sch get schome beersch, assholesch!’

Why couldn’t they get beers now?! Why couldn’t Murderface have just STAYED HOME?!

Nathan, what’s catching you? They can’t see me... you realize this makes you look-

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! SHUT IT!”

...Was what Nathan wanted to say. Instead, he shrieked, neck and forehead veins popping out. The spikes on the metal ball began to cut into his skin.

“Nathans! Lets-it go! Y’ams bleeding!”

The vocalist could give less of a shit. 

He scowled at the Seahorsegelf as he rushed out of the space. Abigail and Toki zipped to the kitchen, making Nathan feel even worse.

Ruined it. He ruined tonight’s attempt at fun.

He shut his friends out. Why? Nathan knew it was rude, but their voices were too much on top of what he was dealing with. It wasn’t fun watching himself tumble out of control before his very eyes. It was brutal. This week, it wasn’t so good to be so. It was brutal in a good way when the five of them were together... Or six, now, with Abigail. Or seven, now, with the stupid vision starfish.

Reminded of such dumb sea star, Nathan reeled back to chuck the weapon right at it.

An octopus revealed himself, clenching a tentacle onto Nathan’s grip. 

“Nat’n. It’s going to be okay. This doesn’t have to get messy. Snap outta this .”

“...”

“You don’t have to say nuthin’ dood. I don’t get what’s going on, but I know that pain. It’s going to be alright.”

“Lägg ner det där innan du gör dig illa… ”

Skwigelf sighed, pulling the sharp trinket out of his best friend’s hand, grabbing the bloody mitt firm.

“We cares about you, you knows that... You amns’t dumb, so stop thinkins WE ams!”

“Skwisgaar, he doesn’t...”

Explosion was scared to talk to them. How could he explain what happened without appearing like he’s completely lost it? This was beyond whale visions. What he witnessed was a living nightmare.

Nathan was sick and tired of all the tears. He was normally really good at staying stoic, but he couldn’t keep it together, not after the final show.

“…”

“Hey, now! It’s all good, babe, no need to cry over spilt coffee and broken mugs. Let’s get you moving your feet, m’kay?”

Dick Knubbler’s voice on a cookie cutter shark. He only had one eye on. And behind him... Edgar? The band lead’s brain registered the brains of the Haus as a walrus with a robotic bottom half.

“Yes, Nathan! There’s someone that arrived that I think you’d like to see. Someone that can help with your situation. Follow us.”

Hesitant, Nathan looked at his friends before moving towards the two. 

“Yes, that’s it, down the hallway.”

Nathan followed, Dick and Edgar talking calm and reassuringly. 

“A while back, you remember I spent many sleepless nights studying the songs of whales, yes? How in previous records, you can hear your prophet beckoning you back to the water, to return to the deep?

“I’ve analyzed how the band works, and your normal activities usually prevent you from creative dives. Sleeping, drinking, partying…”

“Hah, Nothin’ wrong with that, babe!”

“We as humans need stimuli that differs from the norm of working hours to freshen the mind, rejuvenate the senses... Be it traveling places, watching a favorite movie, taking a shower, third-place lounging, so forth..

“You have been fascinated with water for quite some time. I think having some good-sensory environments for you will be in the world’s favor, wouldn’t you agree? We were already going to use this in your training as a cool-down… but I think it’s best to try it out, now. You used to have to travel down a special elevator to get to my old study... but the science department refurbished this water recording filtration room into a new sort of study for the both of us . Exciting, is it not?”

The doors to the secret laboratory opened, dim red lighting, with a pod in the middle of the giant hall. Nathan didn’t notice Dick lock the doors behind them.

 “...”

<<PREV - NEXT>>

[planetpissed]

He then turned to look at Skwisgaar.

In his eyes, he appeared as a massive sea horse, with long flippers and golden mane.

Don’t push yourself to talk.  All I’ll say, is that if you sleep,  you’ll stop seeing me and the world around you warped…  Doesn’t hurt to try-

“ GRRRAGHH !”

pouff

Nathan flung a pillow in attempt to get the Starfish to stop talking.

However, gravity took hold, the pillow falling atop the waking head of Skwisgaar Skwigelf.

“ Huugh ?”

Moving his hair out of the way, he looked toward Nathan’s groggy head with worry.

“... Dids you gets any sleeps?”

Nathan shook his head and grunted, analyzing his friend. 

“Y’ams thinkins of somethings, amns’t you?”

Reaching an arm out, Skwisgaar put his finger on the bottom of Nathan’s lip. He began to mimic him;

‘Ughh, Skwisgaar, This week wasants doosable. I can’t sleep, ands am miserable.’

“ HUH? No ways! That’s so crazies, Nathans - we ams on the sames book-slice! This week has licked thouskands dildos...

“I lorned how to cooks the coffee really goods this last tour, though. Hows about a cupsojoe?”

‘If it means you stops talkins, ja… I SUPPOUSE... ”

It was enough to make Explosion’s face relax, even grin a tad. 

Ktktktktktktktk

The starfish ground its teeth. 

Two more approach…

Creaking open slow, a woman’s head poked out to greet the two through the opening door.

“Hey. Toki and I are going to watch some animated movies in the living room, any one is free to join. Snacks. Popcorn. Do you think you’d be interested, Nathan? It’s gonna be a Dreamworks marathon. Shrek 2.”

“Ja, Lets does it, Nathans!”

He sat up, humoring it. That was a step forward. Getting up and relocating would keep him awake, so it’d work perfect for Explosion.

Wait. Who is Shrecctu?

>>>

♪LIVIN’ LA VIDA LOCA!♪

…

THIS IS GREAT! WOW! WHAT A SHRECCTU.

I couldn’t even ask questions! I was so immersed and mesmerized! The music was great. Part of me wonders what would have happened if they kissed before midnight and stayed human. Only note I have is... really? You give the princess a Bichon Frisé? Any Spaniel would have been a better choice of dog for Mrs. Fiona.  …Hm. Maybe it was the Godmother’s projection of her son. That Charming, I could see him having an annoying white dog with leaky eyes. The choices of gifts for her were superficial - Parallel to the fairy and the prince! I take it back. No notes. I want to ride in a flying carriage and get food with people I fear will kill me. I like that type of thrill. … Oh-hoh. I’m chattering! It’s been so long since I’ve talked like this- or talked in general ever since you woke me up! Boy, you’ve ruined me! I jest. I am not ruined... 

I am amazed!  What a big screen... Looks like you could slip into it and go into their world... I don’t remember television doing that. This spectacle is something for families to enjoy, isn’t it? Is it animation? It doesn’t look drawn by hand, so I am not sure...  This is something Kids and Parents can enjoy equally. Aw, there’s a kid I know that would adore this. If only I could recall their name. I have difficulty with names…

WHO CARES? WE STILL HAVE THE WHOLE NIGHT! What is next? I’m not against reversing the film strips back in order and starting it from the top again. I’d drink this credit song, if I could! Goodness, what a thought. Liquid music. How silly, as if that is even possible!

Oh! 

No! What happened?

…

What…

Is it something I said, sport?

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[planetpissed]

Guess I’ll have to multi-task while I pack due to the urgency.

Let’s make sure we get everything we need. What to pack for the... this and the chapter ahead…

I think that’ll do it! Thank you!

Alrighty, my favorite fucko! I’ll be back Monday.

...Hoo.

You know it’s bad when he didn’t say “It’s me, Your pal, Facebones!” 

I didn’t even get to finish the Headroom Hijack bit by smacking him on his bony ass with a fly swatter. 

Facebones doesn’t know... I... baked a cake so we could celebrate [Now over 10+k, Thank you all!] hits on this fic.  It’s his favorite, too - carrot-carcass cake with frosting and dead spiders from glue traps as the sprinkles, one big rebar as the candle where the wick is a dead impaled rat. Mmm, that burnt hair smell is so good .

Oy… It’ll be hard as a rock on Monday! I have no fridge, and there’s no space in the storage freezer - that’s where I sleep!

Ah, god damn it.

I feel so silly, now.

...I’ll eat it myself, I don’t want the flies to beat Facebones to it. 

…

VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

sucklesuckle …Sigh.

We’re in the thick of it, everypony. 

It’s too late to give a warning, now, what can I say? 

Same old, viewer discretion… Might be some flashes of ass here and there. Maybe I’m full of shit, though! 

Instead of a warning, how about I do an update for ya?

Facebones has full surveillance over the boys, and this week has been... quite shabby.

Right now, Nathan’s having a rough time ever since he woke up a few days ago.

 Fuck me, where do I even begin?!

Nathan Explosion has been nonverbal. Which is totally justifiable, I’d say.

His ma - Rose - says this happens when he’s really overwhelmed.

Whoever has a problem with that, fuck ‘em, right? Too much shit is goin’ on!

What is an actual problem is his lack of sleep. Whatever he saw in that Doomstar storm shook him to the core and is keeping him from getting rest.

Poor guy’s been past the point of overstimulation.

Being nonverbal however, that doesn’t mean he’s nonvocal.

He lets out these... head-splitting shrieks when too many people gather around him. 

We found that out when he woke up that first night.

Absolutely shattered Knubbler’s eyes and Jomfru’s glasses, not to mention the monitors around him and the windows.  He’s caused... hopefully temporary hearing damage to his peers and loyal gears around him. 

Edgar says these calls are adjacent to those of blue whales calling for something..? 

As we figure it out, anyone around him is recommended to wear sound-proof gear.

 Headphones, beeswax plugs, you name it. 

This is in context where you have to be in his vicinity and around him. As much as possible, please give the man his space.

But! Good news!

Edgar Jomfru has been workin’ hard on creating something that might help Nathan find both words and rest again, using his knowledge on translating whale calls from his time as a gear to figure out something inspired by augmentative and alternative communication devices, radio-mish-mash, sensory assistance stuff..

There’s gotta be somethin’ that could get through to our beloved vocalist.

Knockin’ on stamped sheet metal, and my chilly fingers are crossed we get a breakthrough soon. We have no clue where Murderface is, Nathan won’t talk, when he tries to write words out on paper, it makes little sense. Everyone is exhausted at Mordland, waiting for news pertaining to the location of Willy’s body being found before they move forward...

Hang in there, boys…

>>>

… Hang in there. You aren’t weak for being scared.  Your mind is trying to accept what happened.  Any day now, you’ll get that grip back. I’m certain of it. ...You’re in the sticks… You need to remember, your friends have your back.  Why won’t you sleep? 

Nathan stared at the starfish creature that stuck itself onto his canopy. He couldn’t find any words.

"..."

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