AN: STOP FLAMMING DA STORY HIPSTERZ OK! odderwize tanks 2 da metil ppl 4 da good reveiws! TANKS AGEN BLACKHAWK! oh yeah, BTW I don't own dis or da lyrics 4 Tool.

On the night of the concert I put on my black boots made of goat with high heels. Underneath them were fishnet that had been white but then I stained them with period blood. Then I put on a black horse leather minidress with real human bones on the back and front. I put on matching fishnet on my arms. I straightened my hair and put in accessories made of bones. I felt a little pissed then, so I sacrificed a sheep to satan. I read a badass book while I waited for it to stop bleating and I listened to some Tool. I painted my nails with mercury and put on TONS of lead eyeshadow. Then I put on some black lipstick. I didn't put on foundation because I think zits are absolutely metal. I ate some human meat so I was ready to go to the concert.

I went outside. Roy was waiting there in front of his flying car. He was wearing a Rammstein t-shirt (they would play at the show too), blood-stained ripped jeans, mercury and a little eyeliner (AN: A lot fo hawt men wer it ok!).

"Hi Roy!" I said in a badass voice.

"Hi Platinum." he said back. We walked into his flying black Hummer (the license plate said METAL) and flew to the place with the concert. On the way we listened excitedly to Tool and Nine Inch Nails. We both smoked cigarettes and drugs. When we got there, we both hopped out of the car. We went to the mosh pit at the front of the stage and jumped up and down as we listened to Tool.

"Elbow deep inside the borderline, this may hurt a little but it's something you'll get used, relax, turn around." sang Maynard (I don't own da lyrics 2 dat song).

"Maynard is so fucking hot." I said to Roy, pointing to him as he sung, filling the club with his amazing voice.

Suddenly Roy looked mad.

"What's wrong?" I asked as we moshed to the music. Then I caught on.

"Hey, it's ok I don't like him better than YOU!" I said.

"Really?" asked Roy ecstatically and we fist-bumped.

"Really." I said. "Besides I don't even know Maynard and he's going out with Taylor fucking Swift. I fucking hate that little bitch." I said disgustedly, thinking of her ugly blonde face.

The night went on really well, and I had a great time. So did Roy. After the concert, we drank some beer and asked Adam and Maynard for their autographs and photos with them. We got Tool concert tees. Roy and I crawled back into the Hummer, but Roy didn't go back to the Base, instead he drove the car into... the 3rd Laboratory!