"Your drug," the Left Eye said, handing over the near empty vial to Dr. Chesterfield. The scientist looked it over and said, "There's barely anything left."

"The special effects manager tried to feed it to Rikki Kixx but Kixx fought him off."

The drug specialist looked at the vial again. "Well, I suppose it's better than nothing. But that's not the only reason why I'm here. General Crozier asked me to tell you that you have another mission. Events similar to the Sobertown USA No Drugs Allowed Rock n' Roll Show hosted by Leonard Rockstein have been appearing in places all over the country."

The Left Eye raised an eyebrow. "What's the connection?"

"Frat parties, night clubs, siestas, bar mitzvahs. Any place that has bight lights, loud sounds and pyrotechnics."

"The general believes Dethklok is selling their version of your drug to the general populace."

"And it is turning people into rabid Dethklok fans. Specifically, anyone who dislikes or criticizes them as you said."

"So, what does he want me to do about it?"

"There's a truck delivering shipments of Totally Awesome Sweet Alabama Liquid Snake to a wedding in Baltimore. You must stop the shipment before anymore of the drug is distributed. It could be traced back to us."

"If the Master commands..."

"The Master approved it."

"Very well."

(!)

On the TV, a news report started. "The world is still waiting. Where is the new Dethklok album? There have been many delays, and the fans are restless. Some fans have threatened to detonate a stolen nuclear device if they don't hear word of a new album soon. The tension is thick, and the world could erupt into violence at any time." The reporter showed an image of Mount Rushmore with the presidents' faces defaced with death metal makeup and the word "When?" written on George Washington's face. The reporter continued, "Dethklok has promised a deadline. God help us all if they fail to meet it."

(!)

At Mordhaus, Pickles was doing a drummer session with Knubbler, with the rest of Dethklok and myself watching.

"Okay. Ready?" asked Knubbler. "We're gonna roll on this one, okay?"

An exhausted Pickles looked aghast. "You weren't recording on that one?"

"No, we had a little buzz, so just hold on. Okay, we're ready now, go!"

"What the fuck, hold on..." He panted. "I got to catch my breath. Just get it right, okay?" He did his session again when Nathan interrupted him.

"Hey, can I stop you right there? Do you think you could just do it a little better, you know? Just... I don't know...something sounds a little weird to me. I can't put my finger on it."

Pickles got angry. "How about I do this... I'll smash your face?"

"Maybe that's what it is. You have to think about smashing faces. It'll sound better. Do it again. Go."

That's when Pickles saw Jean Pierre bring in plates of food to us. "Are you guys eating out there? Am I smelling French toast?

"No. No," I lied. Badly. "Just get the drums right, and we'll bring you out in a while."

"But, yeah, it is French toast," Nathan confirmed. "It's really good."

"Just go," I said. "We're rolling."

Pickles barely even played when Knubbler said, "Wait, hold on. Stop, stop, stop."

"What? What the fuck."

"I'm gonna check the mic placement, okay," Knubbler said, stepping into the booth.

The drummer pointed his sticks at him. "Hey, seriously, if you don't get this one right...I swear to god I'll kill you. Now your life is at stake."

"Hey, Pickles. Nobody else is complaining like this, just you."

"Get the fuck out of here."

(!)

Later, Knubbler and I did a guitar session with Skwisgaar. "That buzz is still going," I said. "It's just like Pickles' drum session."

"Yeah," said Skwisgaar. "It's ain't my pedals or my amps or my guitars or nothings."

"Do a little experiment for me, will you," Knubbler said. "Give that guitar to your guitar tech right there." He called in for a Klokateer to go into the sound booth with Skwisgaar.

The blond guitarist handed him his instrument. "Okays, but I don't see the poi..." He stopped when he heard something. "It stops buzzings once I gives it to this guy."

"No more buzz, huh," I asked. Intrigued, I asked, "Do me a favor just touch it, okay?"

"With whats do you want me to touch the guitars?"

"How about with your finger, stupid?"

"Yeah, okay. No needs to names calls." He touched the guitar and the buzzing sound came back. When he took his finger off, the buzzing stopped. On, buzz. Off, no buzz. "Hey! It ams buzzes when I points on it with my fingers."

"Yeah, okay," Knubbler said, starting to see the problem. "Now put the guitar back on. Do a little jump in the air for me, okay?"

Skwisgaar obeyed him. "It ams not buzz as longs as I ams in the airs...I think so."

"Yeah, okay. Put the guitar down. Come on out."

(!)

Once Swisgaar was outside the booth, Knubbler said, "You know, I've read about this kind of thing happening."

"How?" I asked.

"Usually happens when you use old equipment or if you abuse it for too long. Which is what happened to the current equipment we have."

I was not surprised, given the many drunken rampages that happened in the recording studio. "How the fucks am I supposed to records this now," asked Skwisgaar. "I'm fucked, right?"

"Not necessarily. I have an idea."

"What's the idea?" I asked. When Knubbler explained his plan, I didn't know what to say until I found the right words. "You're joking, right?"

"No I am not."

"Wouldn't it be easier if we used a wind tunnel or something?"

"Nah, the wind tunnel will blow Skwisgaar's skin off like the last guy that used it. We have to use my plan."

"Fine."

(!)

Our next session was with Nathan...who for some reason was wearing a suit of armor. The clanking sound it made blocked out his voice.

"Stop, stop, stop," Knubbler shouted.

"What's the problem now," Nathan asked, lifting his visor. "What's going on out there?"

"It's just a little on the clanky side, okay?"

"So? Can't you dial the clankiness out?"

"I'm trying," Knubbler responded sarcastically. "I'm doing everything I can."

"Hey, while you're at it," I said to Nathan as he walked out of the booth. "How about you take off that Medieval armor, okay?

"I think we should try a couple more things, you know?"

"If you just, maybe didn't shake around the mace as much, you know," asked Knubbler.

"It's a morning star," the singer said, lifting up the weapon. "And you already know how I feel about that."

"Nathan."

"Just consider my earlier idea. That's all I'm saying."

"Put the whole band in armor?"

"Put the whole band in armor."

Skwisgaar came into the room, carrying his still buzzing guitar. "Hey, Knubblers ams we gonna doings this or what?"

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Time to go."

"Hey, sorry guys, wrap for the day," Knubbler called out to the other band members. "Cutting you loose. We'll be back." The band thought they were going to get food and made suggestions until he clarified, "Uh, guys, we're not going out to get food."

"Why not?" demanded Murderface.

"We ams goings to record my guitar parts. And it may be the most dangerous things I ams evers done."

"Thens whys you dos it?" asked Toki.

"Because I ams a tones chaser."

"That'd be funny if he said he was a squirrel chaser," said Nathan. "That'd be better, you know?" He nudged Pickles' shoulder. "Pickles. Pickles. Squirrel chaser."

"Yeah, I know."

(!)

Turns out Knubbler's plan was for Skwisgaar to sky dive out the Deth Copter. "Now, you jump out," he shouted over the loud wind. "And I'm gonna play the track and we'll be rolling, okay? So stay focused and don't forget to pull the rip chord when you level off. You got it?"

Skwisgaar shouted, "Uh-huh!"

"You ready?"

"Let's do this!" I booted him out the Deth Copter. "Aah!"

(!)

Several minutes later, Skwisgaar's guitar session was played in a HERD vial and the sound came more clear with no buzzing. I gave a thumbs up to Knubbler and the guitarist. "We're good!"

"Yay!"

(!)

Back at the recording studio, Knubbler, Skwisgaar and I were reviewing the recording sessions. "

"Hey, Knubblers, Woods. Still jazzed about hows great that recordings went, huh? Hey, you minds playing me some of those tracks."

Suddenly, Toki came into the room. He had a look of panic on his face. "Why dos that? Hey, let's all gets lunch... my treats! Let's gets out of this stuffy place! Let's just gets out of this room! Come on! Gos! Go!"

I gave him the stink eye. "Okay, Toki, what did you do this time." The second guitarist made a whimper. My eyes widened. "Oh, no, you didn't!" I ran to the control panel and turned on the recordings. Oh, my god, what was that horrible racket?!

"Whats the fucks is thats sounds?" shouted Skwisgaar. "Something is wrongs here! Isolates my guitar track." I did so. That was not the record we made on the HERD earlier.

Toki yelled, "I'm sorrys! It's my faults! I fucked its all up. Don't kicks me out of the band! I do anythings! I sucks your cock." He bent down, but I grabbed him by the shoulder and tossed him into a wall.

"Toki, pull yourself together!" I shouted.

"Skwisgaar, I should have backed those sessions up," Knubbler said in a guilty tone. "I mean I really should have."

I gave him the stink eye too. "You what."

"Don't look at me like that! Oh Skwisgaar, you know what this means, right?"

I groaned. I spoke in my Dethphone, "Pilot, start up the Dethcopter again."

(!)

Later that evening, Mr. Offdenson called me, Skwisgaar, Toki and Nathan in for a meeting. Apparently Murderface and Toki had a surprise for us. "Uh, guys, Murderface and Toki are waiting for you to meet them, they want to pitch their song to you. Even if you don't like it, say something nice, okay?"

"Whatever," was all Nathan said.

(!)

Toki and Murderface met us in the dining hall. They were carrying a big boom box and a CD made out of HEARD. "So, you guys are good?"

"Yeah," said Nathan.

"You got your coffee?"

"Yeah," said Pickles.

"Oh, thanks for the cups of coffee," Skwisgaar said.

"Oh, my pleasure. My pleasure." Murderface turned to the second guitarist. "Toki, offer them the hot towels."

"But they didn't... Ams you guys wants the hots towel?"

"No, we're good. Let's do this," said Nathan. "

"We're just about done with the record. We just want to get back to it, so, come on, just play it," said Pickles.

"I just want to make everything perfect," said Murderface. "I want you to be comfortable."

"It's fucking fine. Press play," growled Nathan.

"You don't have to be rude. I mean, you're not rude. Look, now I'm gonna play you this song that I wrote...Toki helped...And it would be great if you guys could keep your comments to yourself, just keep quiet while we play it and then not interject."

"Whats would we interjects about," Skwisgaar asked, losing his patience.

"Man, just can it! So I can play you something that'll blow your mind, all right. Something that I'm real..."

"What's it called?" I asked.

It's called 'Takin' it Easy.'

"'Takin',' like with an apostrophe?" asked Pickles.

"Yeah."

"Instead of 'taking'.'

"I said," Murderface shouted. "Can the interjections till after!"

"GO ON! GET ON WITH IT! MY BEER'S GETTING COLD!"

"Shut the fuck up, Wood and listen!"

*Cue Takin' It Easy*

When the song was finished, no one said a word. Then Nathan said, "Great, guys." There was no gratitude in his voice.

"Yeah, you guys really nailed it." There was none in Pickles' either.

"You want to hear it again?" Murderface asked eagerly.

"No, I mean, uh..." Nathan didn't know what to say to sound so offensive. At first anyway.

"Okay, guys," the bassist said with a happy smile. "You obviously like it. So let's just cut the shit man. Is this thing going on the record or what?"

"No."

Murderface's smile vanished. "What? What the fuck do you mean, 'no'?"

"It don'ts sounds like a Dethkloks songs," Skwisgaar said. "I mean, it's great stuffs but..."

Murderface exclaimed. "Aha! They said it's great! Are you hearing this, Toki? This is your opening fucking track, you deaf monkey pieces of shit."

"I liked it," I said.

"You see?!"

"Let's just quit while we're ahead," Toki said delicately.

"Oh shit, you're fucking bailing on me, too? Fine!"

"No, but if you screams at thems, thens you blows it! We can still talks them into it!"

"Uh, no, you can't," said Nathan.

"Fuck all of you," Murderface screamed. "Yeah, you heard me! Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you! What are you doing, Pickles?

Are you filming me with your fucking camera phone?! You mother fucker!"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'll put that away. It's not appropriate."

"So, wait. Just so I understand," Murderface asked. "You're all passing on 'Takin' it Easy'?"

"Pretty much," I said.

"I can't even begin to believe that. Well fuck all of you. I'm keeping that song for Planet Piss."

"So I'ms in Planet Piss now?" Toki asked hopefully.

"No, fuck you! You're not in Planet Piss, you fucking greedy asshole! No!"

"I'll fucking sues you, Murderface, that's mine!" Toki grabbed the rack of hot towels.

The bassist held his hands up. "What are you fucking doing? Are you gonna throw a basket of hot towels at me?"

"Yes, I'm gonna throws a basket of hot towels at you! Well, I don't think you should!"

"Why not?"

"Because those towels are really hot! Don't fucking throw hot towels, you lunatic!"

(!)

Somewhere on the road to Maryland, a truck carrying bottles of water randomly exploded. The pieces of the driver rained down along with the melted bottles. A lone figure carrying a rocket launcher stepped out from behind a line of trees. They nodded. No more evidence. Suddenly, a piece of paper floated down in front of them. They grabbed it and took a look at it. It was a list of names, no doubt the people the bottles were supposed to go to. Then the figure noticed something odd about it.

(!)

Another report was airing. "Millions of Dethklok fans have gathered around Mordhaus. They are waiting for the chimney smoke. to turn from white to black. This will mean the new album is complete."

(!)

"Is it done?" asked General Crozier when the Left Eye returned. He was waiting with Vater Orlag and Master Selacia.

"Yes. And I think you should take a look at this mailing list."

Crozier and looked it over. "Why are there crossed out Dethklok logos next to some of these names?"

"That's something I don't know."

The general looked at the names in confusion and intrigue. What was so special about these particular names? And why were they marked with crossed out Dethklok logos?