Murderface was not prepared for this. This was torture. This was unimaginable evil. This was cruel and unusual punishment. (Unjust punishment, we might add).

"Fuck. I can't believe thisch." The bassist growled to himself and crumpled up the Post-It note that had contained his fate. It had been written by a Norwegian hand, very badly and nearly impossible to read.

'Mordarface- you grandmofer cawld. We am goingg to vizet them in Flouriida. Bring suim-soot.'

Once he figured out what it meant, he immediately got angry and tore the Post-It from the refrigerator. His grandma called?! Since when did she know how to use a phone? And there was no way in hell he'd go swimming. No way.

"TOKI!!" Murderface screamed and clenched his fists. The young Scandinavian was at attention at once, even saluting him.

"Yes, sirs?"

"Did you write thisch?" Murderface growled, pointing to the note. Toki looked at it for a moment and then beamed at the American.

"Mhm! Nat'en say my hand-writing improves! He give-ds me an cookies!" Toki was not rewarded again. He was thumped on the head.

"You idiot!! NEVER anschwer the phone when the first three numbersch are 850!! That'sch Tallahasschee and that'sch where my grandparentsch live!! I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO THEM!"

"Pbbbt. Calms down. I talk-eds to dem." Toki smiled once again, thinking he did something right. He didn't, and he was thumped again.

"Moron!! Now we have to vischit them!"

"Well what's so wrongs about dat? I remembers you grandmother. She nice ladies. She gaves me hard candies. Dey tasteds like strawsberry," Toki remembered back to when he first met Murderface's grandparents, back when the band first formed. They sometimes had practice in Murderface's garage and his grandmother would always bring them candy. Murderface hated it because she seemed to always appear during his bass solos.

"Toki," Murderface was becoming exasperated, "I don't want to vischit them! I. Don't. Like. Them. Plusch, their retirement home schmellsch like green beans,"

"Moidaface, we never gets to go nowheres," Toki's eyes were getting bigger as he spoke, "Not unless we workingks. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease cans we go to Floridas? I wants to see dem alligators," Toki threw in a nice lip-quiver to his pleading.

"Well…" Murderface was on the fence now. They could go to Wakulla Springs, after all… maybe he could feed Toki to the alligators. "I guessch scho."

"OH TANK YOU!!" The unsuspecting Norwegian hugged Murderface and then sprang off to tell the others. Vacation!

"Thisch…thisch isch not going to end well," Murderface sighed and went off to his room to start packing.