Skwisgaar shuffled into the dining room around ten with notable bags under his eyes. It was an unusually early start to the day for the band; they were set to record a new track that afternoon. Maybe that was the reason that the breakfast table, usually filled with pointless ramblings and various arguments, was void of conversation. Nathan pushed his scrambled eggs around his plate. Toki's face was firmly planted in a bowl of cereal. Murderface stared at Pickles as he made an attempt to chip off his black nail polish with a fork.
"Heys, yous dildos, gets mes some toasts!"
A nearby Klokateer nodded and hurried to the kitchen. Skwisgaar spotted his Gibson propped against the wall, and his mind returned to the previous night, when he'd carelessly tossed it on the floor. He felt a pang of guilt as he picked up his guitar and gently caressed it's neck. He silently thanked Odin that it was safe before he seated himself next to Pickles.
"So," Skwisgaar announced to the table. "Whats tracks ams we recordings?"
The room remained quiet. Pickles looked up from his polish-picking session and shot him a dirty look. Nathan took a bite of his eggs, Toki remained stationary in his breakfast, and Murderface simply stared in his general direction. A Klokateer placed a piece of toast in front of Skwisgaar, who thanked him with a half-hearted insult. After a few bites and several moments of uncomfotable silence, he cleared his throat and made another attempt at conversation.
"Hows abouts that news one that Nathans wrotes a few nights agos?"
Nathan grunted, causing bits of egg to fall out of his mouth. A bit of raw yolk dribbled down his chin.
"Dos you guys cares at alls? We can'ts just expects to gos in-"
"Yer really a nag, ain't you, Skwizgir?" Pickles interrupted. "Yer really not a fun guy."
As if to prevent further conflict, Charles slunk into the room with watery, pink-tinted eyes; proof that he'd been puking instead of attending breakfast. A thermos of coffee was clenched tightly in his right hand, a briefcase in his left. It was obvious that he wasn't responding well to last night's alcohol. With a weak gesture of his container, he spoke.
"Come on, boys, to the studio. Nathan, you're in charge, I just... I can't do this today."
Nathan shot Ofdensen a look that could kill and Pickles rolled his eyes. Murderface grumbled a few obscenities before the three stood up and headed to the recording studip. Skwisgaar began to trail after the others, but quickly realized that Toki remained submerged in cereal. He leaned over and gave him a whack on the head. The Norwegian quickly shot up, gasping for air. His brunette hair was dripping with milk and his signature Fu Manchu bore severeal soggy Cheerios. With wide, confused eyes, he looked to Skwisgaar.
"Wowee, I didn'ts thinks that I was that tireds!"
"Lets me gets those," Skwisgaar chuckled as he picked the tiny loops out of the younger man's facial hair. "We ams going to records a new song, so you'ds betters wake up."
"I'll sure trys," Toki mumbled as he followed his superior out the doors of Mordhaus.
"Oops," Toki exclaimed as he, for the twenty-fourth time that day, played the wrong chord. Murderface knocked his chair over and stomped off to the kitchen. Nathan turned to the computer and shook his head while Pickles, who had seized the opprotunity for a drinking game, chugged a can of beer. Skwisgaar snatched the microphone off the mix board.
"You calls that trying?" He spat into the mic. Toki winced and began to sputter out an apology, when he was interrupted by Skwisgaar playing the correct chord continuously into the speaker. Over the repeated notes, he shouted, "This ams tryings Toki! It ams not that difficults!"
"Skwisgaar, I'ms-"
"Quiets! Whos do you thinks you are? Yous thinks yous somethings special?"
"Hey, Skwisgaar, calm down, you're acting cr-"
"Shuts up Nathans!" He snapped at the vocalist, who had taken time out of editing the small amount of work they'd accomplished so far to defend the rhythm guitarist. Pickles kicked his feet up on the table, punched Nathan's arm, and drunkenly giggled.
"Yeh, shut up Natahan!"
Skwisgaar was apparently oblivious to the drummer's mockery, because he raged on, strumming his guitar faster with every harsh word.
"Yous not specials! Yous just a regular jack off whos happens to gets in a band because you happens to plays guitars betters thans the other jack offs! You ams NOTHING."
Toki slipped his headphones off of his ears and around his neck as tears began to well up in his eyes. He looked down at the guitar in his hands.
"Wow, uh, that was a little far," Nathan mumbled to Skwisgaar, who had finally silenced his guitar. Pickles nodded in agreement. The blonde now stood with his arms crossed, glaring at the distraught rhythm guitarist through the glass. Nathan's statement seemed to have passed right over his head. The two Scandanavians locked eyes, and Toki took a shallow breath.
"No, Nathans, it's trues. Just let Skwisgaar plays my parts, it will sounds betters anyways."
He opened the studio door and silently handed his Flying V to Skwisgaar. His head dropped and he looked away, making a poor attempt to hide the tears that were steadily pouring from his eyes. Just as he grasped the kitchen doorknob, Murderface flung the door open. The two stood face to face for a second before Murderface spoke.
"Are thoesch tearchs?"
"No theys nots!" Toki wailed as he pushed him out of his way. With a slightly irritated expression, the bassist sat down at the mix table alongside the rest of the band. Skwisgaar tossed the V aside and grasped his Explorer tightly in his hands as he entered the recording room. He adjusted the mic and gave it a few taps.
"Let's just gets this overs with."