Seated in the office of Charles Foster Ofdensen, the manager, CFO, and legal council of the wold famous dethmetal band Dethklok, blubbering like a beached whale after a fight with a shark and crying so hard there was blood in her tears, was a teenage girl who had just lost everything she had ever known and had gained everything she had neither wanted nor dreamed possible. Her mother had told her years ago that her father had died (though she had never offered any details on the matter, no matter how vague), and now, after being taken from her home in the dead of the night, she had discovered that her father had not only been alive this entire time, but he had been with another family! If a band even could be called such...

Charles had kept tabs on the girl, even once or twice having "accidentally" bumped into her in public places - not that she had ever seen him. In terms of the boys, he had no second thoughts, but when it came to the daughter he was forbidden to see, he had more than single regret. There was nothing amicable about the pre-Scout split with her mother, Ravenia S. Nightfury, the bridge long-since burned when she had tried to hide their child for the first few months. Maybe, if she hadn't lied to his face on multiple occasions, then maybe his life would have been vastly different; he probably would never have met Dethklok, though he could have had his daughter... But it was pointless to dwell on that now and weigh the lesser of two evils.

"Scout," He addressed the girl somberly, acting no different then when he was talking with the boys, "You must be tired after your ordeal. I'll, uh, have one of the Klokateers-"

On the verge of a complete mental breakdown after finding out that her entire life had been built around a lie, she looked up at him, a glint in her grey-green eyes and her white-painted nails digging frantically into the arm of the chair, "Where's my mother? I want to ask her why she lied about you... To ask her what else she is keeping from me."

Observing her agitated state, he was scarcely surprised to see her block out certain things about this conversation, suspecting that once this was past, she would probably forget this entire night. He understood all too well that the human brain could only comprehend so much at a time (it was a fact he had exploited often in his career), but this would no doubt make her all the more miserable, "Your mother's gone. She, ah, came to see me about you-"

Scout looked around the room, half-expecting to see her mother standing in the shadows, "Where is she? Where is my mother?"

He pushed his glasses up his nose, finding that this was a waste of time and getting them nowhere, so he decided to take another tactic and allow her to come to terms with her mother's passing in her own time, "It's late, you should go to your room and, ah, rest."

Feeling that he was brushing her away, she was too drained by her discoveries to fight back, though she would ask about her mother again, once she was calmer, "Whatever."

Standing up from his seat he looked at her, searching her face for some kind of que, but when none were forthcoming, he cut his losses and lead her back to her room, the lock already repaired by one of the Klokateers. The conversation had lasted longer than he had thought; He had a meeting with the band planned once they had awoken from their nap. She followed him silently down the darkened hallway, head bent low as she walked. She would get over this... Right?

Allowing her into her room, the door no longer locked, he paused before leaving her alone, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

She looked at him blankly, little more than a corpse, "Will do."

Nodding awkwardly at her, he turned around and left the girl to fling herself back on the bed to stare at the ceiling until she fell asleep (which was sooner rather than later). Wretched as she must feel, he had other matters to attend to, and they couldn't wait any longer, not now that she was living there in Mordhaus.

- Metalocalypse -

Since Charles had failed to show up for the meeting, the only other time that that happened being when they believed him dead, the band was in a state of frenzy. Mostly. Sweet little Toki was worried that someone had gotten to the businessman, offing him in some gruesome manner, and like usual, Skwisgaar was being a prick, scaring the rhythm guitarist further. Nathan took it upon himself to defend the little guy, protecting him against the Swede. Murderface and Pickles were off to the side, having a debate on whether or not Ofdensen would leave them like before.

"I bet some kind of paperwork came up or somethin', and he's just busy." Pickles affirmed in his thick accent, "I think we should be busy too... Busy drinking."

"What have I told you about drinking during our meetings?" The CFO entered the room at last, taking his place at the head of the table.

Toki frowned at Skwisgaar, pointing an accusing finger in his direction, "Yous is ams a dick, Skwisgaar."

"Whats?" He raised a blonde eyebrow at the brunette version of himself, "I ams just beings honest."

"Guys." Charles normally would have let them argue it out a little bit longer, but the meeting had already been delayed long enough, "I have something important to tell you: For the next few years, we're going to have a guest here in Mordhaus."

"A guest?" Nathan grumbled, "What kind of guest stays for a couple of years?"

Pickles agreed, "Yeah, what kind of jack-off does that?"

"Dildos." Skwisgaar concluded.

"Great! Another guy?" Murderface whined, "You're trying to replace me, aren't you? Getting rid of the fatty, cleaning the house!"

"No body is replacing anyone, Murderface." Charles reassured the self-conscious bassist, "Scout has nothing to do with the band. In fact, I would prefer it if the two of you avoided each other as much as possible."

"Sees, Murderface? Yous is so uglys thats yous can'ts even see the news guys." Skwisgaar laughed mockingly, fingers silently strumming away on his ever-present Gibson.

"Actually Skwisgarr, I would rather that none of you met Scout, but since that seems inevitable, I want you aware of her presence here in Mordhaus." Charles was perhaps the most fatherly he had ever been at that moment, concerned about his daughter being around five older men with a long (some longer than other's) track record, just like any other normal father would be.

"Wait, this Scout dood is a chick?" Pickles asked the manager in disbelief.

"Aw, that's a pretty names for a girls." Toki commented, "Nows wes has little sister!"

Even Nathan was impressed by her name, "A chick named Scout? That's pretty metal."

"Yeah, but why's the little cunt coming to live with us?" Murderface disliked the idea of a woman coming to live with the band, probably due to being, in the words of Pickles, a 'classic woman-hater'.

Reflexively, a muscle twitched in the businessman's mouth, though he remained calm, "Because, Murderface, Scout is my daughter."

Having only partied with the man once or twice in the entire time that they had known him, they couldn't see him hooking up with some random skank without their influence. In truth, they failed to see him with a woman at all. Charles could be a cool guy at times, but the way he remained unfazed by everything made them think that he wasn't even human at times. Seriously, how could a guy as responsible as Ofdensen have a kid? Well, a kid that actually got attention (Skwisgaar had possibly over a hundred thousand children, none of whom had any recognition outside the paternity suits).

Being the most apathetic about the news, used to paternity suits and this sort of thing, Skwisgaar spoke up first, "Is yous ams sures it yours?"

"Yes, Skwisgaar, I am positive that Scout is my daughter."

"Sos, hows ams old is your daughters? Tens? Elevkens?" Toki inquired earnestly.

"Seventeen." He was hesitant to tell them just how young she was, or anything more than they needed to know, but he had had the team run the numbers, and they consistently came back that one way or another, Scout and the boys would inevitably cross paths at some point. The best he could hope for at this stage was that if they had to meet, it would be brief.

"Seventeen?" Pickles asked incredulously, "You're letting some hot little schoolgirl run around here?"

As if Ofdensen would actually allow free range, even if she did prove to be better behaved than the band, "Actually Pickles, I'm going to implement some new rules to prevent any, uh, untoward actions. Number one, no hitting on her - even if she wasn't my daughter, Scout is still a minor, so that also means do not give her any drinks, drugs, or cigarettes."

"Pft, what a kill-joys." Skwisgaar rolled his eyes, bored by the rules already.

"But we still get to do that stuff, right?" Nathan refused to let anyone interfere with his adult privileges, no matter how metal their name was.

"Yes, Nathan. She won't impede your consumption habits, though maybe this is a good opportunity to consider lessening your intake-"

All they heard was 'yes', "So what does that stuff have to do with us?"

This was going to be a long night, Charles sighed, realizing that this was going to take longer than he had originally thought...

- Metalocalypse -

Before the meeting started (or was supposed to start), Pickles sat alone in his room, legs dangling off the edge of his bed as he tried to straighten his shit out. Prior to taking a personal reflection moment, he had taken a hallucinogen or twelve, so he was tripping balls even before he had settled in for some quiet time. There also may or may not have been vodka involved. And some hash. And rum. And some crushed up X. And some angel dust.

Just as he was about to reach that special place, his hand wrapped tight around his manhood, thoughts drifting from one kind of a rack to another, there was a bumping sound, and it wasn't the one usually associated with a good wank. It was the sound of being walked in on on accident, the intruder trying to forget what had been seen. Assuming that it was just one of the douchebags in the band, or maybe a Klokateer, he half considered not bothering with the dumbshit becuase they were probably already long gone. But then he saw who it was watching him...

Who it was that continued to watch him.

Unless his eyes were deceiving him (and thus there laid half the problem), there was a teenager standing in the middle of his room, and not just any teenager, a female teenager. Some chick in a grey pullover was just standing in the middle his room, a look of half revulsion, half fascination on her heart-shaped face. The look on her face told him that she had no idea what she had just gotten herself into, but she didn't completely mind, the slutty little minx-maid. Wait, minx were little rodents with long furry bodies, right? He was pretty sure. Either way, the blonde half-creature was eyeing him lustfully, biting her lower lip in a very sexy way.

And it was gone as soon as it had come.

I probably should have said this in the last chapter, but I thought that I could fit it into the summary, so I'm telling you all now: This is not a Ofdensen/Pickles slash story! Sorry if any of your were misled by that... Not my intention all.

Crap, and I forgot the legal crap! Yeah, I don't Dethklok,, Metalocalypse, or anything other than this story, Ravenia, and Scout.

PS, I also really tried to nail the characters as well as their mannerisms/types of speech.