Chapter 1.1: Railing Art

After the most brutal show they had been to in a long time, the other three members of Snakes'N'Barrels were administered to hospital while Pickles returned home with Dethklok. Everyone was still very drunk and Pickles was still a little high from the totally-awesome-sweet-Alabama-liquid-snake (it hadn't had much effect on him anyway).

"Holy shit dude!" Nathan began as they poured into the lounge room. "That was one of the most brutal fucking things ever!"

Pickles slumped down in a chair and rubbed his head. "Those bastards used ta be able ta handle just about anything. Well I suppose that's what you get fer going sober for too long." He said.

"It's just been so inspirational, Pickles. Fuck! I gotta go write this shit down!" Nathan said and with that he took the stairs two at a time to go and muse in his room.

"Yeah, that was a great show but I'm scheriously fuckin' schpent for the evening." A blurry eyed Murderface informed the room as he yawned, "Not as bad asch that one though." He pointed to Skwisgaar who was face down on the couch with his yellow hair strewn all over the cushion. "His whoresch 'll be pissed off tonight. He schould of known better than to drink on an empty schtomach. Ha ha, Night guys." Murderface went up the stairs and off to his room.

Pickles sighed, "Alright, Blondie. Let's stop ya from swollowin' yer own tounge." He said as he attempted to roll Skwisgaar onto his side. Skwisgaar was thin but tall so there was still a lot of him to try and man handle, so Toki stumbled over and helped. Skwisgaar groaned a bit and said something utterly incomprehensible to Pickles and not just because he said it in Swedish.

"Wha'd he say, Toki?" The red-dreaded man asked.

"I don'ts knows?!" Toki responded.

The others had coined the phrase 'Snow Speak' to refer to the language the Scandinavian guitarists spoke to each other. This was a mixture of Norwegian and Swedish, suitably weighted for each of their mother tongues, with a lot of English nouns and a few choice adjectives and curse words from other European languages thrown in. Skwisgaar started rambling again and Toki leant in closer to try and decipher it.

"What about then? I head my name that time." Pickles asked.

"He says something likes "Pickle, you ams a giant dildo for leavings us but since yous ams not reallys den yous ams just a normals size dildo. Dats de concert was so fuckings brutal….""

"... Jag måste kräkas."

"...And he ams needings to puke." Toki finished obediently.

"How am I tha dildo here?! Arrg, wha'd ever. Come on, Toki. If we take an arm each he might be able ta at least pass out in his own bathroom." Pickles said.

They didn't make it. Half way up the stairs Skwisgaar broke their grip and vomited over the railing. The sound was sickening and the other two promptly followed suit and hurled their guts up over the railing as well. The mess on the floor below them should have been framed and hung in the Tate Modern.

"Fuck this!" Pickles said to Toki as he wiped the chunks out of his beard, "He'll be fine now. You can look after him, I'm goin' ta bed." He got up and began to walk up the stairs to his bedroom. The night had been too eventful and he was beginning to sober up.

"Why I's has to dos it!?" Toki complained.

"'caus he's jibberin' in that Snow Speak of yours, so you can feckin' deal with it." And the red head vanished down the hall.

Toki leaned against the railing and cleaned his mouth with his shirt. He glared down at Skwisgaar who was laying on his left side up the stairs groaning occasionally. Toki nudged him a little with the tip of his boot. He reckoned that if he nudged the Swedish sloth the right way he would slide right down the stairs. Toki decided against this because then he would have to go get him.

"Hey, get up, Skwisgaar. Go to bed."

"hmmm…..No."

"Come on, you can't stay there."

"Can so."

"No you can't, come on, Pickles said I have to make sure you get to bed alright." Toki paraphrased.

"Pickles! That dildo. It's like Murderface said…. Fucking…. Dark Star….. I like it here, Toki. FUCK! I liked it there, too!" Skwisgaar slurred.

Skwisgaar somehow came off less arrogant in his native language but not by much. Currently being a shit faced, knee walking, spew drooling, sloppy mess on their own staircase didn't exactly add to his haughty demeanour. Skwisgaar's belt was digging into him so he shifted his hips exposing the pack of cigarettes in his jeans pocket. Toki extracted it and lit one up. He had no idea what Skwisgaar was on about but after the bar incident only two hours ago, he wanted to know.

"Liked it where?" Toki pried at Skwisgaar.

"Fucking…. Gothenburg! Fucking….. Dark Star! I was fucking happy and then it all went to shit!" Skwisgaar slammed his palm into the stair to accent the sentence. "Fucking… Pelle."

Toki was intrigued. He sucked down on his cigarette and took a seat on the stairs next to Skwisgaar. No one really seemed to know much about the blonde man's past so Toki was going to exhaust this little conversation.

"Who is Pelle?" He asked.

"He was the singer from Dark Star. We all lived together in Gothenburg…Too many Danish there, the Danes are fucking scum! It was a big yellow house, Kornhallsvägen 55…had some fruit trees."

"Dark Star was an old band you were in?"

"Ja, It was my first real band. Not like the school band I was in, it was real, you know? Like a real band where you are all friends and live together and play real gigs?"

"Ja."

"Well I was only sixteen, Toki, only sixteen. Only just sixteen too because the snow was starting to melt and when the first flowers came out we had already been there for like a month or two, I don't know. Wild flowers are the only good ones. Don't put nature in a pot! Unless it's actual pot, then it's ok….um…What was I saying?"

"Dark Star."

"Ja, Dark Star. The other guys were all older than me, fuck, I was so young, but like, not in the head. Anyway, we became friends at a festival and then decided to form a band together. We all moved into this house which belonged to one of the guys' parents or something, big yellow thing, it was all pretty quick. The heating was shit in that place and none of the doors would close properly but we were all just happy to be living together and making music, you know?"

Toki did know because that's what he had been living every day since he joined Dethklok. He smiled at the thought of a Skwisgaar from ten years ago. Toki had only been eighteen when they had found him (you want to talk about a lack of heating and doors try being a street kid!). This new information formed a point Toki could tally in their ongoing game of one-up-manship.

Skwisgaar rolled over onto his back so as to allow blood flow to the left side of his body and groped for his packet of cigarettes in vain. Toki passed him the remainder of his (albeit he had to grab Skwisgaar's hand to keep it still and guide it into the drunken man's fingers) and lit a fresh one for himself.

"So what happened?" Toki asked.

"Pfft," Skwisgaar glanced up blearily at the brunette then continued. "Well things were great for a while. Pelle and I got really close, real close, we had heaps of fun. He was about a year and a half older than me but our bassist had just turned twenty so could buy the good alcohol for us. We tried distilling our own for a while there….um… oh yeah, Pelle found a pagan circle in a dark clearing up in the hills behind the house. He and I used to go up there in the summer with a box of wine and, FUCK!" He had dropped his lit cigarette onto his chest. He flicked it away and it did a perfect somersault through the bars of the railing and a 10/10 dive into the pool of sick below.

"Fuck, that was close. Arrg, this is so uncomfortable." Skwisgaar shifted onto his right side and faced Toki.

"Then why don't you go to bed."

"Ja."

"Want some help?"

"Ja."

Skwisgaar held out an arm for Toki to haul him up from. Toki stamped out his cigarette (the Klokateers have patents pending on several miracle carpet cleaners) and carefully hoisted Skwisgaar to his feet. Skwisgaar's other hand found the railing and they climbed slowly up the staircase.

"So, what happened to Dark Star?" Toki reminded him.

"Huh? Well, we lived in that house and played together for about a year. Big yellow house, had some fruit trees. They were the only other band I have ever lived with other than this one, you know? We recorded our debut album and got quite a name for ourselves in Gothenburg and the surrounding towns. We even did a few small tours."

"So what happened?" Toki persisted.

"Pelle fucked it all up by leaving us. He was very fucking talented, you know? Not just vocals but other stuff too. I remember he used to play the flute a lot, but not around the other guys, just me. Anyway, he was accepted to a fancy music school in Oslo."

"Oslo?"

"Yeah, fucking Norwegian government scholarship program or something. You and all your fucking oil money."

"Makes sense."

"Yeah. Anyway, we just couldn't replace him so the band broke up. He stayed in contact for a while but within two years he was married to some chick he met at the college. Pfft! Fucking married! Who does that? I mean… fucking seriously."

They had finally reached Skwisgaar's room. Toki sat him down on the edge of his bed and the lead guitarist fell straight backward with his arms out onto the white fur blanket (the klokateers had given up trying to get the sex smell out of it).Toki sighed and resigned himself to having to tuck his band mate in. Usually he would just leave him there but he felt it was a kind of payment for the rare glimpse into Skwisgaar's past. He removed Skwisgaar's boots with great effort and then stood between the blonde man's knees and started to unbuckle his belt.

"Toki?" The spread out man asked as he looked up with one eye open, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get this belt off you so you can finally pass the fuck out and I can go do the same damn thing!" Toki said as he fumbled with the buckle.

"Oh, is that all." Skwisgaar brought his hands down and undid it effortlessly. He pulled it off himself and threw the belt to the other side of the room. He then managed to wiggle his way to a more normal sleeping position lengthways on the bed. Toki sighed again as Skwisgaar was still laying on top of the fur blanket. The rhythm guitarist went around to the other side and threw the other half over Skwisgaar as if he were a pastry filling.

"There, now try not to die in the night, ok?" Toki said as he started walking out of the room but Skwisgaar called after him.

"Hey Toki, where's my bedtime story?" He said to deliberately mess with the brunette further.

"What? No! Fuck off! What the hell kind of thing is that to ask for?"

"How about the German one with the two kids in the forest? That one's pretty brutal."

"Yeah that one is pretty brutal."

"There's a witch and everything,"

"Yeah."

"and a candy house,"

"I like candy."

"so tell me that one."

"Hell no!"

"A good night kiss, then?"

"..."

"Well?"

"Skwisgaar,"

"Ja?"

"go the fuck to sleep."

"Fine."

The swede was passed out almost immediately. Toki turned out the light and went to find the comfort of his own Pillow. What a fucking night this had been.