"How did it come to this?" I asked myself that question MULTIPLE times as I faced the gates of Mordhaus. I don't even know WHY I was out here. All I knew was that I was seeking employment for the recent enrollment of special effects manager for the most popular death metal band in the entire planet, Dethklok. I sighed, then knocked on the door. A man with flat hair and wearing a suit and small glasses greeted me, Charles Foster Offdenson, the CFO and manager of Dethklok. "Ah, good. You are here for the special effects job opening, yes?"
"Yes, sir. I'm Thomas Wood."
"Good. Come with me."
The interior was just as crazy as the exterior. A cross between modern architecture, heavy metal and viking culture. Evil-looking portraits of demons and skulls hung from the walls and musical instruments that looked more like something out of the Spanish Inquisition were placed in glass containers.
"Now, I assume you've read the fine print," the man said.
"Yes, Mr. Offdenson. 'Dethklok and Dethklok Enterprises are not responsible for any deaths, injuries, illnesses and any other ailments that might and will befall upon you. Death is a commonplace element here in Mordhaus, so please do not panic...' bleh, bleh, bleh. I had to desensitize myself just to get this job by watching snuff films."
"This is going to be much different than watching death videos," the CFO said. "And believe me, you will be exposed to death." He guided me to what I assumed to be the lounge room. "All right you guys," Mr. Offdenson announced. "Our new special effects specialist is here, so try to treat him with some respect."
I inspected the band. Skwisgaar Skwigelf on guitar, was tall, blonde with blue eyes. Toki Wartooth, also on guitar, was tall, brunette with brown eyes. Both men were muscular, but Toki's were more obvious. William Murderface on bass was a portly man with a triangular afro and a handlebar mustache. Pickles on drums was an average sized man with red dreadlocks and a matching mustache and beard combo. Nathan Explosion on vocals was a muscular man with dark eyes and long, flowing black hair.
"So," the vocalist said. "He's the fresh meat?" Oh, my god, could his voice get any more gravy? Then again, he was in a metal band.
"You read the waiver, didn't you?" asked Pickles. His Wisconsin accent was VERY obvious.
"Yes, yes. I read it all about the death, and the fact that you guys don't cover it," I said, muttering.
"Well," said Murderface. His lisp was so obvious, I was surprised he wasn't spitting when he pronounced his S's. "Don't come complaining to us when your head becomes cheese."
"Speakings of cheese," Skwisgaar said. "I could uses somes at this moments. I needs my sandwich ready." Wow, his Swedish accent was sexy.
"I could also use the cheeses as well," Toki said. His high, Norwegian accented voice had a...childish charm to it.
Screw it, all the band members had a childish charm to them. A very stupid, immature childish charm. The proof of it was the way they were now blathering about cheese.
(!)
"What are your thoughts?" asked Mr. Offdenson as we walked down the hall.
I bluntly answered, "Honestly, I'm surprised they haven't burnt Mordhaus down. They are so..." I tried to think of the right word without sounding so rude. Especially on my first day of the job.
"Immature?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"Yes, it is...quite the hassle to put up with these guys. They wouldn't survive without me."
"Please tell me they are grateful for it," I said.
Mr. Offdenson scratched the back of his head. "They are. In their own way."
I stared at him. "Meaning, not at all?"
"Oh, they are. Just not in the polite and civilized way." We reached his office. "Anyway, now that the greetings are out of the way, your first assignment will begin the next day. We have a Duncan Hills Coffee commercial to make and it's to be aired at Norway and we have a thousand fans waiting for us."
"Wait, we're having a concert...and it's just one song?" I couldn't believe the absurdity of it all.
"Yes."
"But...isn't it a waste of money to go through all this?"
Mr. Offdenson sighed deeply. "You want to know what happened to the last time a concert got delayed?" I shook my head, not liking where this was going. "This." He pulled out a bunch of photos from his desk and showed them to me. I nearly gagged. "We were delayed for five minutes due to traffic and the fans started sacrificing each other to appease the gods so that Dethklok will come."
"Oh, man!"
"Exactly. It's more than just the money. It's also about keeping the people happy and from killing each other. And us."
Just how much chaos could one death metal band cause? I just found out the hard way.
