Slash, Bad Language, Drug/Alcohol Usage

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I don't own anything.

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"I am just an image of something so much greater
I am just a picture frame, I am not the painter
Where do I begin, can I shed this skin
What is this I feel within?"

~Civil Twilight, Human


"SHIT, HERE HE GOES AGAIN," Pickles sighed as the rhythm guitarist, Mayer Hamilton, began strumming out another one of his impossibly long solos right in the middle of a song. He stopped drumming. The whole band stopped playing, but not Hamilton. He didn't take notice of the silence until Skwisgaar went over to his amp and unplugged it. Only then did he stop and look up, a sneer on his face.

"Hey, man, what the fuck's your problem?" Mayer spat, glaring at the Swede. "I was just in the middle of-"

"Of playings another one of your stupids, dildos solos. Ja, we knows," Skwisgaar said bitterly. Being the lead guitarist, he pretty much wrote all the song material—guitar and bass, which counted as a lot. He was a major contributor to Dethklok's success, and he didn't like people stealing his thunder or ignoring the carefully planned out notes he wrote.

Pickles, however, was just annoyed by the stupid rhythm guitarist himself. He didn't care if he was messing up songs and ignoring then notes—the idiot just pissed him off. Without remorse, Pickles threw down his drumsticks and yelled, "Okay, 'dat's it! I'm not playing another fuckin' song with that douchebag!"

"Yeah, he never shtopsh with the shtupid sholosh," Murderface lisped, spit flying from his mouth. He put down his bass and said, "It getsh obnoxioush after a while."

"Obnoxious?" Mayer exclaimed, throwing down his guitar. "You think I'm obnoxious?"

Nathan nodded. "Yeah, we do. I mean, it might be one thing if you actually played the songs like Skwisgaar wrote them, but you don't. You never do. You always have to get out of control and-"

"Yeah, 'cause I'm the best fuckin' guitarist in the whole fucking world," he said indignantly.

Skwisgaar glared at him and challenged, "Permits me to disagree."

"Fuck you, dildo!" Mayer spat, throwing his guitar against the wall. "I don't need this! I practically hold this band together, and all you guys do is complain! Where would you all be without me?"

"Uh...done with 'dis album about two months sooner," Pickles said, crossing his arms and grinning. " 'Dat's where we'd be."

"Shut the fuck up, Pickles!" Mayer spat the name out hatefully before continuing, "You're probably so drunk right now that you don't know whether to shit or piss!"

" 'Dat's not the point," the drummer said, still smiling. "but yeah, if you really wanna know, I am."

Everyone laughed at this, only making the guitarist angrier. He went right up to where Pickles sat, placidly tapping one of his drums with his index finger, and said, "What do you know? Hell, at least I know how to screw a chick."

He shrugged, still not showing any outward sign of turmoil at Mayer's words. "Yeah, so what? We've all fucked chicks before—except Murderface. He never gets no ass."

The bassist glared at him and retorted, "I have to fucked a girl bef-"

Skwisgaar reached over and placed a hand over his mouth, saying quietly, "Silence, my friends. Watch them tears each other aparts." he was getting much enjoyment out of Mayer and Pickles' fight, and when the rhythm guitarist tried to tip over the whole drum kit, he began laughing madly.

Pickles pushed Hamilton away, however, before any serious damage could be done. "Look, why don't you just piss aff? Don't go tryin' to break my shit just 'cause you know you're just a talentless-"

"Yeah, well fine!" Mayer finally said, breathing hard, his face red. "You think I'm talentless? Fine, we'll see. We'll see how fucking good this stupid band does without me!"

"What're you saying?" Nathan asked.

"I quit!"

And Mayer Hamilton stormed out of the room. That was the last time anyone really ever saw him again. The truth was that he was a pretty mediocre guitarist, and although he could write music when he wanted too, it still wouldn't be enough to persuade any record company to sign him. After that day the name of Mayer Hamilton washed away from pop culture and the man himself would be found dead about a year later listening to the pounding music of Dethklok's latest album with a heroin needle sticking out from his arm. The doctors would try to cover up the fact that he had overdosed and just list his cause of death as a heart attack.

But that would come later. What came now was Nathan letting out a loud, almost animal-like growl, and him saying, "Fucking bullshit! Now we have to find a whole new fucking rhythm guitarist!"

"Why can'ts I just dos it?" Skwisgaar asked.

"Because," he said, "We need something else...we need a whole new kind of person, you know? Like someone whose not really an attention-whoring idiot whose full of themselves..."

"What exactlys ammnest you trying to says about me, Nathans?"

"That'sh perfect!" Murderface said. "I'm that guy! I could do that!"

"No, 'dat's stupid." Pickles disagreed, frowning. "Why can't we just-"

"No!" Nathan screamed. "We're getting a replacement so later on we can rub it in Hamilton's face!" and his eyes became dark as he repeated, "Replace his fucking sorry ass."

And in the course of locating and signing a new rhythm guitarist, Nathan would change his mind about the matter at least twelve times, saying that they didn't need one or that they did. In the end, as Ofdensen introduced him to a young Norwegian named Toki Wartooth, he was under the impression that they might be better off without one after all...


Chapter 1, Part 1

Something New Begins

Everyone stared at the new rhythm guitarist with mixtures of confusion and discontent. "Who 'de fucks ammnest 'dat agains?" Skwisgaar demanded, temporarily ceasing the strumming of his Gibson.

"I already told you, its the new guy," Nathan said, glaring at each and every one of them. "He's replacing Hamilton."

"Replacin'?" Pickles asked. "Since when did we need to replace Mayer?"

"Since he quit, dildo." he retorted, turning his deadly gaze to the drummer. He motioned to the stranger who stood next to him—a distinctly Scandinavian-looking kid with long, brown hair, a Fu Manchu, and a pair of shockingly pale blue eyes. The kid had a blank expression on his face as he stared at the other members of Dethklok, but his nervousness became clear once you took a look at his hands, which he was clasping together in an effort to hide their insane shaking.

"This is Toki," Nathan continued. "He's the new rhythm guitarist."

Murderface let out a groan. "I thought we shaid that we didn't need one of thoshe guysh!"

"Well I changed my mind! We-"

"You funny," Toki spoke up suddenly, trying to hide the shaking in his voice. Murderface glared at him.

"What do you mean, I'm funny?"

"You talks funny."

"Well sho do you! Addin' esshesh to shtuff!" and he turned his attention back to Nathan, who was still standing firmly by Toki's side, his arms crossed over his chest. "Hey, dick-brain, what did you shay thish kid'sh name wash again?"

"Toki Werewolf or Waterhorse or something."

"Tokis Wartooth," the new kid said quietly, looking down.

Pickles stifled a laugh and repeated, "Yeah, I'm sorry, but did you just say Tokis Wartooth?"

He nodded and turned a light shade of red. "Ja."

"So, like, Tokis as in plural, or what?"

Skwisgaar laughed and said to himself, "Ha, he cant's speak Anglish."

"Okay, okay, guys, look," Nathan said, glaring at them all. "He's new here. He just came from Norway, so cut the kid a fucking break. His name is Toki Wartooth and he's going to be our new fucking rhythm guitarist, so if you don't like it, shove it up your ass and shut up, because that's how it's going to be."

Everyone grew silent and watched as Toki went and took a seat on the floor quietly, still looking down at his boots. A Gibson Flying-V was slung around his back, and whenever he sat down the other guitarist, Skwisgaar, took notice, pointing at his guitar and laughing again. "Ha, 'dat ammnest dildos guitar!"

Toki turned around and asked cluelessly, "Huh?"

"Your guitars," he said, grinning maliciously. "It ammnest didlos."

"Dildos? What dildos mean?"

"Oh my Gods—are you kidding me?"

Toki innocently shook his head, making everyone the room besides Nathan laugh. His face became red all over again, and his eyes darted from one musician to the other. "What? What it mean?"

"Nathans, where you get this guy?" Skwisgaar asked, hugging his sides as he laughed. "Stupids idiot don't even know what dildos mean!"

Nathan shifted uncomfortably in his seat and grumbled, "He's from Norway." as if this explained everything.

Murderface smiled and repeated, "Norway? Norway? Where the fucksh that?"

"Ain't 'dat in Australia or somethin'?" Pickles wondered aloud. "But he sure don't sound Australian..."

"Course it ammnest not in Astraickliha, dildo," Skwisgaar said smartly. "Norway is stupids place where 'dere ammnest only rocks and snow."

Toki frowned. "We gots water, too, not just snow, Skwisgaar."

"Well all the sames, it ammnest still stupids."

"Ams not!"

Skwisgaar glared down at the Norwegian and gave him a firm kick in the back before resuming the strumming of his guitar and saying, "Don't talks back to me, idiots."

"I wasn't talkings back, I-"

Now the Swede gave him a good kick between the shoulders. It was so hard and sudden that Toki actually fell forwards, a fine boot-print now outlined on his back. Nathan let out a sigh and roughly pulled him back up, saying to Skwisgaar, "Cut it out, Skwigelf."

"Me cutting it out? Looks at him, talkings back to me like I bitch. Fucks 'dat." and he grew silent and focused all of his attention back to his guitar. Nathan rolled his eyes and turned back to Toki, who was trying to hide the humiliated look on his face.

"Listen, why don't you go unpack your stuff. One of the Klokateers will show you where your room i-"

" 'Kay, thanking you, Nathans," Toki said as he hurried to gather up his things and go out the room. Once he had left, Pickles let out a groan and crossed his arms.

"Do we gotta keep him?"

"Yeah, he'sh dildos!" Murderface agreed.

Skwisgaar just said quietly, "Seemest like big pussy to mes."

"Look, guys, we need a rhythm guitarist, okay?" Nathan said firmly. "And he's good enough—not great, but just good enough, so why don't you all just shut the fuck up and give him a chance?"

Everyone nodded and grumbled, agreeing that they would try their best to make little Toki Wartooth feel at home, but inside Pickles couldn't help but think, That kid won't last a week.


Chapter 1, Part 2


Later that day, once Toki had managed to unpack most of his things, which admittedly weren't all that much, Nathan called for a recording session. Skwisgaar rolled his eyes and groaned, "Why we gots to do 'dat today, Nathans?"

"Because," was his simple response to this as he lead the others into the recording studio.

Toki looked around the studio with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape. He was holding his guitar very tightly, as tough it were the only thing tethering him to the ground. His innocent, blue eyes were full of wonder as Nathan closed the door behind him and said, "Welcome to the studio, motherfucker."

"Uh-huh." was all he said. "So we records here?"

"No, we jack each other off," Murderface responded, rolling his eyes. "Of courshe we record here! Why do you think it'sh called the recording shtudio?"

He shrugged and went to stand next to Skwisgaar. Pickles frowned at this, however, and warned him, "Uh, dude, you might not wanna do 'dat."

"Whys not?" Toki inquired, rubbing his nose distractedly.

" 'Cause ain't you never seen any of our concerts on T.V. Or nothin'? That guy head bangs like nobody's business."

"Oh, ja, I cans do that too!"

He shrugged and sat down behind his drum kit. "Whatever, all I'm sayin' is that I think you'll be a lot safer if you stand right here." he pointed to a vacant spot to his right, one behind the Swede. Toki, not wanting to cause anymore unwanted tension, went over to where he was pointing. Pickles leaned towards him and whispered, "Besides all that stuff, Skwisgaar's got a little prablem with people who get attention that ain't him."

Toki arched a brow. "What you mean, Pickle?"

"Well, it's sorta like an inferiority complex, or whatever." when the Norwegian still didn't look any less confused, the drummer simply said, "You'll see."

And Nathan began growling and screaming lyrics into the mic, with Skwisgaar never hesitating to interrupt him with a wild solo. Toki just strummed along, keeping up with relative ease until Murderface edged towards him a little to much. He got distracted, hit a bad note, and the bassist laughed. Murderface gave him a sideways glance and just as Toki began picking up the song again, he elbowed him as hard as he could in the ribs, making him double over and let out a cry of pain.

All the music stopped and Nathan turned to them, breathing hard. "What the fuck was that? Were you trying to sing or something, because I thought we told you that-"

Toki shook his head. He was still trying to get a handle on himself as he said, "He just elbows me ams all."

"Murderface..." Nathan began. The bassist, realizing the trouble he had gotten himself in, quickly shook his head and held up his hands.

"I didn't do anything! It wash Picklesh!"

"What? I didn't do anything, and you know it, asshole!" the drummer exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.

Somehow thru watching Murderface elbow Toki, he had managed to keep drumming, not even thinking about the music or the cues. He supposed that it was just automatic, they had practiced the songs so many times that they were somewhat robots now. However, this didn't stop him from getting back some of his old emotion and throwing one of his drumsticks at Murderface.

"I didn't do anything Nathan," he continued, his red dreadlocks getting all out of place in his display of anger. "I saw what he done! He was tryin' to fuck up Toki! I saw it!"

"I wash not!" Murderface protested. "I jusht bumped him! It wash-"

"Don'ts lie abouts it," Skwisgaar said, leaning against an amp. "We alls want him out just as bad as you dos, so don't be pussy and acts like you didn't dos it—I would've dones it myself, but he ammnest was too fars away."

"What did I dos to makes you so mad at me?" Toki asked, trying to hide his hurt and confusion. "I just walks in and yous ams all-"

"We don't needs you here, dildo!"

"Okay, guys, guys. Remember what I said." Nantan broke in. He glared at Toki and said, "You, move a little farther away from Murderface and-"

"But then Skwisgaar ams going to mess me up!"

He shook his head. "No he won't."

Toki seemed desperate as he said, nearly pleading, "Nathans, but please—he hates me!"

"Looks, maybe we should just trys it out," Skwisgaar said calmly. "I promises 'dat I won't try to upsets him, Nathan. Swear to God."

"Okay, then let's try it again."

Pickles shook his head and sighed as he resumed pounding away at his drums. Stupid idiot. Who would believe Skwisgaar?

He really did feel bad for Toki, especially as he watched the Swede taking little steps closer to him, stomping on his boots and trying to get him to mess up again. Toki was determined now. He stared down at his guitar while his fingers skillfully played. Skwisgaar frowned at this and, not knowing what else to do to regain his thunder, he stamped down his boot on a wire that lead to Toki's amp, unplugging it. The Norwegian continued playing for a few more seconds before he realized what Skwisgaar had done, then he let out a cry and covered his face with his hands.

Once again, Nathan stopped singing and asked, "What the fuck is wrong now?"

"I...I..." Toki could barley bite back tears of embarrassment and anger as he pointed at the other guitarist and said wretchedly, "...he unplug amp."

To this the Swede let out a scoff and said sarcastically, "Oh, 'dat ammnest good, little, stupids Toki! I'm surprised you knows what amp is..."

"I not stupid, Skwisgaar!"

He crossed his arms, gave the Norwegian a mischievous grin, and said, "Permits me to disagree."

"Ha, look!" Murderface said, pointing at Toki and laughing. "He'sh crying!"

"I ams not crying!" he said, uncovering his face. The only bad part about this movement was that it displayed the fact that he was indeed crying. His face was red, and some of his brown hair clung to the shining trails of tears that winded down his cheeks. Upon seeing this, Skwisgaar and Murderface collapsed onto the ground, laughing madly.

Pickles couldn't bring himself to laugh or even smile. If it had been anyone else—anyone-he would have, but Toki was just so...

He didn't know. It was odd. He didn't like the kid, but he didn't dislike him either. He felt bad for him, so very bad as Toki looked to Nathan for help. The singer just sighed and said, "Let's call this one a wrap."

And that was it, but it didn't seem like enough for Toki, who wanted retribution for his humility. In the end, he just looked down and hurried out of the room, lugging his guitar. Pickles watched him go, feeling a twisting knot in his stomach tighten and uncoil, like a constricting snake. "Poor kid..." he mumbled to himself.

Normally he didn't like to humor any kind of un-brutal behavior, but now he got to his feet and hurried out behind Toki, ignoring the shouts of Nathan calling him back. "Pickles, come back! He'll work it out on his own!"

"Fuck you," he mumbled as he walked. He wasn't mad at Nathan per say, but 'Fuck you' was usually his reaction to anything, so as he walked he kept repeating, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you..."

He made his way up to where the old rhythm guitarist's room had been. The door was open, and he could see Toki throwing things angrily into his old, tattered suitcase, cursing in Norwegian and sniffling. His hair was in his face, making it impossible for Pickles to really tell if he was still crying.


"What?" he demanded, looking up and wiping his nose. When he saw Pickles, his tone became softer and he said once again, "Ja?"

"You...uh...goin' somewhere?"


"Oh. Back to Norway, Australia, huh?"

Toki nodded and zipped his suitcase up. "Uh-huh, only it ams not in Australias."

"Uh-huh." Pickles said, taking a deep breath and leaning against the frame of the door. He didn't dare enter the room. Instead he let his head fall against the frame and said, "Wow...why?"

"What yous mean why? 'Cause nobody wants me here."


He waited for Toki to continue, and he did. "Ja, ands I knew that this woulds be too good to be true—rhythm guitarist of Dethklok. Greatest things in the world, I thought, but it ams all just stupids...you don'ts need me here."

"Uh-huh." he said. He wasn't agreeing or disagreeing with him. Truthfully, the only reason he was standing here right now wasn't because he liked the Norwegian or wanted him to say. It was more because he felt guilty.

Toki tried to hide the fact that he had cried by wiping his face off on his blue shirt. Then he grabbed his suitcase, his teddy bear, and tried to push past the drummer and into the hall, but Pickles wouldn't move. Instead he grabbed at the teddy and squeezed it, smiling.

"You carry around a fuckin' teddy bear?"

Toki's face turned red. He reached for it, but the drummer held it away. "Comes on, Pickle, gives it back!"

"C'mon, I just wanna see it." and he ran his thumb over the stuffed animal's warm fur and shook his head. "Fuckin' unbelievable..."

"Gives it back."

"Or what?"

"Or I kicks your ass."

He began laughing and still didn't hand it over. "Calm down. I'm only—shit!" He cried as Toki punched him hard in his stomach. He let out a wheezing groan, fell against the door frame, and let the teddy fall onto the ground. "Fuck, Toki..." The guitarist took back his teddy and went to leave, but Pickles caught him and said, "Wait, you can't go. Not yet."

"Whys not?"

" 'Cause you can't let them be right."

"Is...wait, what?" he asked, his face looking puzzled. "What you means by that? Right?"

"I—I mean, ya know." Pickles said, standing up straight again. "Skwisgaar's right about everything. You really just gonna leave and make him right about this too? You really gonna let him think that you're a fuckin' pussy?"

"I ams not pussy!"

"Uh-huh. And where'd you say you were goin'? You were just about to run away, right?"

Toki looked at him, sniffled one last time, and smiled a little. He threw his stuff back into his room and closed the door. "Fine, I stay. For nows."



Hope you like the story so far. Like I said before, I love reviews, so seriously, you should review it.

Other than that, the only thing I think I need to explain is the mention of a time before Toki Wartooth. Before Toki was they rhythm guitarist of Dethklok, Mayer Hamilton was in his place. You can see him in the beginning of the episode Renovationklok. For reasons that were never specified, Mayer was replaced by Toki.

Also, you can't write Pickles without his vodka or his Wisconsin accent, so that's how I'll type it. I'm not misspelling anything, like how he will say 'aff' instead of 'off'. That's just how it is. Skwisgaar will be distinguishable from Toki [though their accents are similar, they are very different], Murderface will speak with a lot of 'sh's, and Nathan will just be...well, Nathan.