Hey, remember, in my other newest story, I told you I was working on another fic at the same time? Well, this is that fic. MANY THANKS TO: purpleleemer for letting me borrow the idea of Skwisgaar breaking his hand and being in need of a replacement. I repeat, that particular idea was not mine, give praise and worship purpleleemer for that one. She also gives me very nice reviews.

On with the fic!

REVIEW!

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The band was, at the moment, not playing music at all. This close to the winter holidays, no way were they playing. Besides. Their albums traditionally came out round Halloween.

No, this close to the winter holidays, they were getting drunk. And getting drunk was something Skwisgaar Skwigelf did alright.

He joined Murderface on top of the meeting table and began strip dancing, singing the lyrics to a popular Swedish song from when he was a child. He knew he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. So why not have his fun now?

He had just gotten his shirt off and was starting to undo his belt when Charles Foster Ofdensen walked into the room. Murderface immediately chucked an empty beer bottle at him, which he dodged.

"May I remind you that while you don't have any albums due as of yet, you do have a Holiday tour to do in Europe!" he said loudly so he would be heard over Skwisgaar's singing, which was slurred and badly out of tune.

He got his belt off and began working on the zipper, all the while singing at the top of his lungs, "träda in min hus och äta middag i min sal och har en glad semester...".

"Aw, who cares abouts dats? We's jest havins fun!" yelled Toki Wartooth. As he spoke, he guzzled another few sips of the alcohol he was holding.

"Hey, Swisgaar, you mind? Why do you always sing in Swedish, anyways? It's fucking irritating!" yelled the lead singer of Dethklok, Nathan Explosion.

"I'ms from Sweden, douchebag!" he yelled in English this time. Now he wore nothing but his thong, which he had only worn that day because he had been hoping to do a few ladies, but no go. The snow was preventing the murdercycle from use and the bus kept getting stuck, so they had been snowed in. God, he hated snow. He got enough of that in Sweden!

Nonetheless, he hopped down off the table and sat in a chair, his bare bottom sticking to the cold chair.

"Jævla Svenske," said Toki, guzzling the last of his bottle. He was quite drunk.

Swedish understood what he was saying and exploded, throwing a beer bottle at the Norde as hard as he could. Unfortunately, his aim was way off. It hit Nathan instead.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

The lead singer jumped out of his chair and across the table so fast that Skwisgaar didn't see it.

He felt like he had been clubbed over the head with a train. Nathan Explosion was no pixie in weight class.

Even though he was half naked, Nathan was pummeling every inch of the Swede that he could reach and Skwisgaar fought back valiantly, writhing like a live wire and trying to get out from under his massive bulk.

Someone pulled him off and Skwisgaar wiped the blood from his split lip, glaring at the man as best as he could. At the moment, however, he appeared to have three faces.

Skwisgaar bent over and vomited.

"Sa du. Jævla svenske ikke gjør det vite ikke noe om drikker," muttered Toki, getting to his feet and swaying on the spot. This was the drunkest anyone had ever seen him. He, above all the others, hated the winter holidays. He therefor got the most drunk.

"You takes dat back, you kuksugare!" Skwisgaar screamed at him, and this time he launched himself at Toki. Toki was lithe and in shape. He was also muscular. He was pounding the hell out of the thinner man.

Skwisgaar jammed his fingers into the corners of the rythm guitarist's mouth and Toki bit down on them viciously, drawing blood and biting clean to the bone.

Howling in agony, Skwisgaar withdrew his fingers and shoved his knuckles into his eye, followed by a vilent hair tug. His left hand bleeding and ragged, he could only fight with his right now.

"What are you doing, stop!" someone yelled.

"Go Skwisgaar! Beat his ass!" called Pickles, the drummer.

"Gets him off ofs me! He's crazy!" Toki was yelling. His lip was bleeding and his eye was already blackening.

Strong hands pulled Skwisgaar off of the shorter man and he stood there, breathing heavily. For a moment, he didn't even feel the dull, throbbing ache in his left hand.

Someone furiously threw a shirt and a pair of pants at him and he caught them numbly, getting blood all over them. He examined his bitten hand, not really comprehending the fact that he couldn't bend his fingers. He saw yellowish bone and a lot of blood. Too much blood, in fact.

"Hey, lookit dat, dat's totally metal, right here, look at all se blood," he said, holding his hand up for all to see.

There was silence from everyone, including Toki, who had Skwisgaar's blood smeared around his mouth and lips. He looked like some obscene vampire.

Charles Ofdensen examined the ruined fingers and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Congratulations...er. Skwisgaar. You'll have to go to the infirmary and get your hand wrapped. We'll have to cancel the winter shows."

Silence again, until Nathan understood. He was amazingly lucid when he was drunk.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

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please review!!! For any who want translations, here you go. I got these awesome site...well, one awesome site from purpleleemer. The other one kepy negating the words I was trying to translate, but I found another.

träda in min hus och äta middag i min sal och har en glad semester literally translaed, it is "come into mine cottage and dine in mine hall and have a jolly holiday"

Sa du. Jævla svenske ikke gjør det vite ikke noe om drikker-- told you. Fucking swedish don't know nothing about drinking

kuksugare--Swedish for "cocksucker:"

PLEASE REVIEW!!!