Disclaimer: I do not own Dethklok? I guess I don't...

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The Murdercylce sped down a four lane highway, taking up two of the four lanes. Driving the Murdercycle was Nathan Explosion. In one of each of the remaining four seats sat Toki Wartooth, Skwisgaar Skwigelf, William Murderface, and Pickles, the drummer.

The band had been out drinking well into the wee hours of the morning. Nathan, of course, was quite intoxicated, yet the band did not hesitate to allow him to drive, as they were quite intoxicated as well.

It was quite a thrill speeding down the highway, swerving into oncoming traffic, and swerving again to avoid hitting cars, street signs, and lamp posts. The mixture of various drugs and alcohol made the ride all the more fun, for both the driver as well as the passengers. Soon, however, they heard a siren, and saw the colourful lights of a police car.

"Oh, wowwee!" Toki squealed, "What's dat lights for? What's de sirens?"

"Heeeeey, Nate'n," Pickles yelled over the sound of the wind to the driver of the Murdercylce, "I think, maybe yer supposed to pull over."

At first Nathan didn't respond, and continued to stare ahead, driving. Then Pickles' words sunk in, and he looked over at the drummer, "Uh-" he began, "pull over?"

"Yeeeeah," Pickles answered, "I think, ya know, I'm preetty sure yer supposed to pull over if theere's a police officer, like, ya know, followin ya, wit like their lights on... and their siren."

"Oh," Nathan responded, "I guess I'll... pull over... then."

Nathan pulled the Murdercycle over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. They waited for a few minutes, and the police officer walked up to them.

"Sirs," the officer said, "could you step out of the motorcycle, please?"

The five of them, very ungracefully, stumbled out of the vehicle and stood in a line, looking at the cop.

"Whascht's your problem?" Murderface asked, looking at the cop.

"Oh, my," the cop said, "Where to begin? I know you're famous and everything, and you think that laws don't apply to you-"

"They don't," Nathan interrupted, "I found that out... just a while ago; laws don't apply to... us."

"Well," the officer responded, "They do, actually... and you've broken so many just right now."

"Ha!" Skwisgaar laughed, "Who cares? Laws is stupids. Who cares abouts laws?"

"I know I don't cares bout stupid laws," Toki agreed, "Laws is stupid!"

The officer shined his light into Toki's eyes, "Aren't you under 21 years old?" he asked.

Toki squinted in the light from the officer's flashlight, "Why's you shinings lights at my eye?" he questioned, "Can'ts sees very wells, when you shines dem lights into my eye."

"According to the background check I did on the band, Toki, you are only 20 years old," the officer continued, "This is true, right?"

"Well," Toki started, "Am I?" he asked, with a confused look on his face.

"I thought you were like... 25," Nathan said, looking at Toki, "Or something..."

"Twenties, twenty-five, forty... What's the difference?" Toki asked, looking at the officer, "We's all going to be twenty-ones and maybe one time be forties... We's all going to die later. Why's it matter if 21, maybe, 25 I am, 20? What?"

"Well," the officer tried to explain, "In this country, it is illegal for someone to consume alcohol if they are under 21 years old. And you are 20, and quite clearly drunk."

"I am 20?" Toki said, "Does it counts whens I was a fetus?"

"No," the officer said, "It counts when you were born."

"So alls dat times I was a fetus didn't even counts?" Toki yelled, "I was a fetus for all those years! Didn't even counts!"

The officer looked uneasily at Toki, and then at the rest of the band who were beginning to look agitated. "Anyway," the officer said, "there are a lot of concerns that I need to talk to you guys about."

"Whatevers," Skwisgaar said, "Concerns talks to us abouts; what's does it concerns us, abouts talks to us, about concerns? Hm? What does its?"

The officer had no idea how to respond to the confusing question, so he simply ignored it, and continued, "Well, Nathan is clearly drunk, and driving. If you didn't know, this is also illegal. Furthermore-"

"Hey!" Nathan interrupted him, "How did you know my name? Who are you? What the hell is this?"

"You guys are famous..." the officer explained, "Everyone knows your names... Anyway, Nathan was driving while intoxicated, Toki has been drinking and he is underage, and that means that one of you must have provided him alcohol, which is also against the law..."

"Big deal," Pickles said, "Toki drinks all the time. Who cares?"

The officer sighed, "And, the vehicle you are driving... I don't even know what that is, but you cannot drive a vehicle that takes up two lanes of traffic. I am going to need to take you guys to the police station, okay?"

"What's po-lease station?" Toki asked as another police car pulled up next to the first one.

"We are going to take you all to the police station, and sort all of this out, okay?" the officer explained, "You'll probably just get a fine, and that shouldn't mean anything to you guys, right?"

"Alright," Nathan agreed, "We'll come with you to the... police... station, but we aren't paying a fine. Fines are for regular jack-offs, and we don't pay fines, got it?"

"We'll just see what we need to do when we get there," the officer said, uneasily, "Three of you sit in the back of this car, and two in the other car, alright?"

Toki, Skwisgaar, and Pickles sat in the back of the officer's car, while Nathan and Murderface sat in the back of the second car.

"Your scheats schuck," Murderface complained, "Polisch carsch schuck."

The officer got into the car in which Toki, Skwisgaar, and Pickles were sitting in the back, laughing from intoxication, and who knows what else. The two cars drove to the police station.

After various drug tests and questions, the police officer phoned the band's manager, Ofdensen.

"Hello?" Ofdensen answered his phone.

"Hello. Sorry to bother you so early in the morning. Is this Charles Ofdensen?" the officer asked.

"Yes," Ofdensen responded, "Who is this?"

"This is Officer Daniels with the police. I understand you are Dethklok's band manager?"

Ofdensen sighed, "Yes," he answered.

"Well," the officer began to explain, "I pulled them over for drunk driving, and it turns out that Pickles and Toki were also under the influence of other illegal drugs... and well, there is a fee, and they can either stay the night in jail, or you could have someone come pick them up. Surely the fee won't be a problem for them though."

"I'll be over there in a few minutes," Ofdensen said into the phone, and before he hung up he added, "But Dethklok doesn't pay fees... We'll sort this out."

Charles worked his magic and managed to get the band out of having to pay the fees. The band mates all slept well into the afternoon, and never even mentioned the incident. What should have been a lesson and reminder to follow rules was completely lost on them. They repeated the same offenses many times, but, thanks to Ofdensen, never had to suffer any negative consequences.

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