Disclaimer: The only things I own are my characters Christian, Pierre, and the guys in Iron Fist. Wow, that's a considerably shorter way to type the disclaimer ramblings!

Remember how I said that this chapter would be really good in my note from last time? Well this time, I aim to please! This chapter's got everything: comedy, tragedy, angst, happiness, friendship, and alcohol consumption, lots and lots of alcohol consumption! YAY! I guess… So without further rambling, I call this one Chapter 11! (Wicked-awesome guitar riff)

Chapter 11: A Little Help from my Friends

"Hey guys, come check these lyrics out!" Christian called back to his friends.

It was Friday once again, and the band was at the 5-Hole waiting to put on another show. That Friday had marked the end of a very productive week for Edtallica. That week, the band confirmed some t-shirt designs with Jimmy, hammered out five new songs: "Heavy Metal Mental Case", "Rockin' Out", "Hit and Run", "Deadeye", and finally, "Labat Blues", the mildly hilarious song that Christian had just finished the lyrics to.

"You're done already?" Eddy asked, taking the notebook from Christian.

"Yeah, after the second song, they just kinda write themselves." Christian answered.

Eddy scanned the three verse tongue-in-cheek song and cackled heartily a few times before passing the notebook to the others.

"So what do ya think, guys?" Christian asked.

"I like it, it's funny!" Ed exclaimed.

"It's good, a little too jokey for my taste, but good." Edd said.

"Hey, they can't all be like 'Deadeye', we gotta have some fun with our music." Christian replied, "Besides, every band's got a joke song: Chuck Berry had 'My Dingaling', Aerosmith has 'Dude Looks Like a Lady'-"

"Not to mention every Ashlee Simpson song ever written, huh guys?" Ed added.

"That's right Ed! So ya see? We have to have a fun song. It's like, required. Besides, if it tanks, we never have to play it again, dude, I swear on my honor as a Canadian and as a rocker." Christian said to Edd.

"Ok guys, how about we play all of our songs through one more time before we go over the play list." Eddy declared.

The band got up and walked towards the tiny stage that they used to ruin the hearing of their audience every gig that they played.

"Where's Jimmy again?" Edd asked as he strapped his guitar over his shoulder.

"He said he'd come about an hour early with some of his drama club friends or something." Eddy answered.

"Ok, wanna start with 'Hit and Run' or something to get warmed up?" Christian asked his band mates.

"Yeah, that sounds good." Eddy nodded.

The band played through their songs in about thirty-five minutes, then wrote down that night's play list, which looked something like this:

"Helpless"-Diamond Head (staple intro)

"Motorhead"- Motorhead

"Battery" -Metallica

"Bomber" -Motorhead

(Something new + Canada points) "Ballroom Blitz"-Sweet

"Bleeding Me"- Metallica

Introduce "Hit and Run"

"Godzilla/The Red and The Black"- Blue Oyster Cult (crowd pleaser)

Introduce "Heavy Metal Mental Case"

Introduce "Deadeye"

(Christian and Double D only) "O Canada"

"Crazy Train"-Ozzy Osbourne

Introduce "Labat Blues"

Introduce "Rockin' Out"

"Apocalypse" (staple finale)

Thank crowd and end

"Ok, so that's what the play list's gonna look like for tonight, boys." Christian concluded.

"And now, the wait…" Eddy sighed, slumping in his chair, "I hate the wait."

"Yeah, but c'mon Eddy," Ed said, elbowing his lifelong friend on the arm, "It gives us a chance to have some spirited conversation!"

"So Double D," Eddy said casually, popping open a perfectly legal beer, "What's the deal with your parents? They've been gone since like, June."

Edd snorted and grabbed a lager himself, "They said they're coming home tomorrow. They've been gone so long that I've had to pay the IRS myself a few times."

"Damn, that is long," Christian replied, "They've been gone a month and a half on quote 'business trips'? Pfft, if that's the case, I'm glad we're musicians!"

"Yeah, but we'll have to go on tour and stuff," Edd added, "But at least we'll be on the road for months and then get a vacation. My parents have been going on nonstop trips without even thinking of the word 'vacation' since I was about five. It's like an eight-letter curse-word to them."

"It'll be good to have 'em home, though, won't it Double D?" Ed asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Edd replied, taking swig of his drink, "Needless to say I'll have quite a few stories to tell when they get back! I can actually predict what that'll look like."

The guitarist cleared his throat and put a stern, serious look on his face to impersonate his dad.

"Eddward! We're home!" Edd exclaimed in a drone-like voice, "Cripes, am I tired! There's nothing I'd fancy more right now than a raspberry wine cooler and a good book. Fetch me one, won't you? Ah, yes, that's nice…"

"Your dad actually talks like that?" Eddy cackled.

"Yeah, he wants to be English, even though he's from Battle Creek and all of our ancestors are from Scotland and Wales, which is weird enough because nobody talks like that anymore." Edd responded, "Ok, and then my mom would come in."

"Hi sweetie," Edd crooned in a forced high-pitched voice, "I hope you had some fun while we were gone."

"Oh yeah mom, a whole lot of stuff's happened since you both left," Edd continued in his normal voice.

"Really?" he said in the 'dad' voice, "Like what, son?"

"Well, me, Ed, and Eddy found a bassist that could sing so we've been doing gigs at a Canadian hockey bar every Friday night, my girlfriend broke up with me, and the guys and I have entered a band contest. If we win it, we'll be famous rock stars and you'll never see me except for on a few holidays. Ah, but enough about me, why don't you enlighten me with some long, boring-ass story about an incompetent dullard in a boardroom meeting you had in Phoenix." Edd concluded to a chorus of laughter from his friends.

Christian laughed hysterically and pounded on the table. "Ah man, Double D, your folks make my family sound exciting, and they're like Ned and Maude Flanders personified!" The Canadian laughed, "That's probably why me and Craig formed Iron Fist!"

"I feel your pain on that one, Double D," Eddy chuckled, "My dad's a corporate zombie, too. That's probably why me and Jeff turned out the way we did: a DJ for a heavy metal station in San Francisco and a drummer in a heavy metal band, not bad, huh? "

Ed was going to try and find something about his parents that was similar to his friend's, but before he could, the band was interrupted by the sound of the doors opening.

"Hey guys, I'm here!" Jimmy called.

Jimmy came into the tavern with about seven bewildered freshmen-to-be following him.

"I promised a few friends that you guys would put on a kick-ass show, I assume you won't disappoint 'em?" Jimmy asked while high fiving the Eds and Christian.

"We'll kick ass, count on it. No way would we disappoint uh…who are you people exactly?" Christian asked, taking a swig of his Labat.

"Oh, sorry guys. Edtallica, meet Alex, Joe, Pat, Andy, Ralph, Jesse, and Cindy. Everybody, that's Ed, Double D, Eddy, and Christian." Jimmy said.

After exchanging "hi"s and "hey, how ya doing?"s, Jimmy's friends seemed to calm down slightly.

"Uh… why don't you guys go get cokes or something?" Jimmy suggested to his posse of chums.

"Sorry about the looks they gave you, guys," Jimmy whispered to the band, "Most of 'em are kinda on the nerdy end of the clique chain, but hey, they're my friends. Maybe this'll turn them away from show tunes and R&B."

"What about that Cindy chick?" Eddy asked, "She had a Metallica shirt on."

"Yeah… I know…" Jimmy stated in a spacey voice, "Sure, she only likes their old stuff, but who cares?"

"Whoa-ho, looks like our little Jimbo's got the hots for somebody!" Ed chuckled slyly while elbowing every one of his band mates.

"Ha ha, I think you're right, Mullet," Eddy replied, "Look how red he's getting right now!"

"And did you hear how his voice trailed off when he talked about her?" Edd guffawed lightly.

"Shut up, guys!" Jimmy said, turning three different shades of red.

"Ok, ok, little dude. Calm down, we'll stop," Christian said, "You got a good eye for girls, though. Kinda reminds me of myself when I was your age, or three years ago, as it were. You gonna ask her out after the show?"

"I guess I could try…" Jimmy replied.

"Dude, it's easy. Just make sure that you get next to her during the show, don't let the geek brigade get in the way. The show starts, the Eds and I do what we do best, you bang your head for two hours, then ask her if she wants to see a movie or something with you this weekend before she splits, " Christian lectured, "She won't turn you down, you're a nice enough dude."

"Make sure you set a specific day and place, though." Ed added, "I didn't once, and it was a disaster!"

"Ok, I think I can do that." Jimmy breathed.

"You better start getting ready, boys!" Pierre exclaimed, "The crowd's starting to come!"

"Well, we'll see ya later, Jim." Christian said.

"Yeah, you better get yourself in a good spot." Ed advised.

"You guys are on in three minutes!" Pierre yelled.

"Finally!" Eddy said excitedly, springing out of his chair and grabbing his drumsticks.

To get themselves fired up, the band did something that they called the "Communist Mosh Pit", where they would jump up and down with stern looks on their faces before screaming as loud as they could. They did this for a few minutes and then began to run towards the stage, guitars and drumsticks held high.

Christian grabbed his microphone and began to work some of his front man ramblings for the crowd.

"Hey everybody, how you doing out there tonight!" he yelled.

The crowd cheered loudly in response.

Christian chuckled. "Heh heh, We're feeling pretty YAAAAAAAA, too, man! We're gonna get this damn thing started with 'Helpless' by Diamond Head, what do ya think?"

The crowd cheered even louder.

"Whoa, I guess you like that one, huh? Hit it Eddy!" Christian said, nodding towards his fellow rhythm section member.

Eddy took a few seconds to acknowledge the crowd before launching into the faced-paced beat of their opening song.

The gig went on flawlessly from that point, as presumed usual. While they were introducing "Rockin' Out", Ed did his backward duck-walk back to where Eddy was.

"Hiya Eddy!" Ed shouted over the noise while playing the blues scale driven song.

"Hey Ed." Eddy panted.

"Jimmy's right in front of the stage, he's really hitting it off with that Cindy girl that he likes so much!" Ed hollered.

"That's cool, I knew Jimmy had it in him! Now get your Mulleted ass back to the front lines, Ed!" Eddy yelled.

"Gotcha, Eddy!" Ed nodded, duck walking his way back towards his spot on the stage.

Eddy finished off the song by playing a minute long ending fill on the drums. He pumped his fists in the air once he finished before sitting back down behind his drum kit. Christian downed half of his water bottle before addressing the crowd one more time.

"Woo! It's been a fuckin' crazy night, huh?" Christian croaked into the microphone.

The crowd cheered again, pumping their fists in the air and flipping the heavy metal salute towards the band.

"We've got one more song for ya tonight, you know it, you love it, it's called 'Apocalypse'! 1, 2, 3, go!"

The band played the first song that they wrote together louder and faster than they had any other song that night. After throwing on a two and a half minute ending fill/finishing riff, the band finished the show.

"Thank you! Before we go we'd like to ask you all to come out and see us at the Mosh Rock Festival next week at the SkyDome at 5:00. The Eds and I'll see ya there, good night!" Christian yelled.

They struck one final note before the lights were cut and turned back on, giving them the chance to go to their area and rest, meaning behind the counter of the bar.

"I bet that there were like, as many people as last time out there!" Ed stated.

" Yeah, if that's the case, we probably broke our own record by a couple people thanks to Jimmy bringing the dork brigade and that girl he likes over here!" Christian added.

"You guys did it again!" Pierre yelled hysterically.

"Whoa, calm down Pierre, what's the headcount?" Edd inquired.

"Four hundred and eight people were out there tonight! That means that we're all going home with fat wallets!" the hockey fan grinned, "You know what? I've made my decision, you guys are going on my wall of fame!"

"You serious?" Christian asked in disbelief.

"Why would I be joking about something like this? Now you boys stay here while I go get my camera!" Pierre answered, scuttling off towards his back room.

"Hey guys, check it out, it's Jimmy!" Eddy pointed.

The band turned around to see their little buddy saying something to Cindy. When he was done, she nodded and responded. She then turned to leave, but stopped herself and gave Jimmy a peck on the cheek.

"Whoa-ho! Looks like Jimmy's having a good day, huh guys?" Ed asked, elbowing them again.

"Ow! Ed, quit elbowing people, it hurts!" Eddy griped, "Hey look, here comes ol' Casanova now."

"She said she'd call me…" Jimmy breathed, "and I got her number!"

"Way to go, little dude, I told ya you could do it!" Christian said, slugging Jimmy on the arm.

"Damn, Jimmy, what kind of magic where you working out there?" Eddy asked, "I didn't get a peck until my third date!"

"I don't know, I just banged my head, had a good time," Jimmy spaced, then zipped together "and I danced with her when you guys played 'Bleeding Me'."

"Glad we could be of assistance, Jimmy." Edd replied.

"Ok, boys I'm back with my camera!" Pierre said, "Now smile!"

Pierre shot two quick pictures with his huge instant camera. He made the band sign one before bidding them "catch you boys at the SkyDome" and leaving.

"We'd better get going, too." Eddy said, "C'mon Jimmy, I'll give you and the car-less wonder over here a ride home."

With that, the five metal heads got into their respective vehicles and took off towards their homes.

Edd rooted through his pockets and fished out his house keys. After unlocking the door, he trudged up the flight of stairs to his room. He placed his Telecaster on its stand and flopped onto his bed. That night as well as the whole week had been great! The crowd loved all of their new songs, even "Labat Blues" much to his surprise. He made a few hundred dollars and even got put on the 5-Hole Tavern wall of fame. He couldn't sleep from all the excitement that was building up inside him already for the Mosh Rock Festival, which he felt very confident about winning.

He walked back downstairs towards the kitchen to make himself a midnight snack. As he was sorting through the refrigerator, he noticed that once again, the new message light was blinking.

"Let me guess, rush meeting in Indianapolis?" Double D scoffed, pushing the play button.

"Friday July 24th, 2005. 4:15 PM." The machine beeped.

"Hello, Eddward… This is your Uncle Frank in Indianapolis. There was an accident, the plane your mom and dad were on lost control or blew an engine or something and c-crashed. They say your mom's in critical condition, but your dad didn't make it, son. I'm sorry, just try to get over here when you can…"

"End of message." The machine concluded.

A cold, lonely feeling welled up inside the guitar god. Dead? His dad was dead? Hot, salty tears poured out down his face as he stood in that spot. Then, automatically, Double D began to walk towards the liquor cabinet, pulling out the large bottle of imported 14-year-old scotch.

He slumped down, leaning against the counter while crying, chugging down half the bottle in a few seconds. Five minutes later, the scotch was gone, and the wine coolers and beer were dumped down his esophagus. Within that hour, every alcoholic beverage was popped open and consumed.

The sloshed guitarist collapsed to his knees after finishing the last of the tiny bottle of Jack Daniel's he discovered in the back of the refrigerator.

"Oh God…" he sobbed.

After retching violently, his mouth filled with blood; which splattered to the floor.

"Oh God…" Edd repeated.

Then all went black.

>>>>>>>>>>>

"Well, 'ello there, Double D," a voice greeted, ".54… Damn, and you're still alive, too. You beat the hell outta my record. That is not good, mate, not good at all…"

"Huh?"

Edd looked up and saw a man that looked to be in his early to mid thirties sitting in front of him in a black wing chair. He had long, platinum blonde hair, like Christian's, only curlier, and a Gibson Les Paul was in his lap. Edd immediately recognized him as Steve Clark, the fourteen-years deceased Def Leppard guitarist.

"Steve? What happened? Where am I?"

"You drank too much and blacked out, plain and simple," The cockney guitarist replied, lighting a cigarette, "Too much? That's puttin' it a little lightly, isn't it? You should be dead right now, you lucky lit'l bastard…"

"You mean I'm not dead?" Edd inquired.

"Nope. Not yet, anyway." Steve answered, taking a puff of his cigarette, "So, Double D, did I stutter when I told you to stay away from the drink about five weeks ago?"

"No… I just… I didn't know what else to do, I just grabbed the scotch and then…" Double D felt tears swell up in his eyes again.

"Hey, c'mon now," Steve said, patting Double D on the back "Rock gods don't cry, mate. Ditch those damn tears, now."

Edd nodded and dried his eyes on his shirt.

"I'm not trying to be your enemy, I'm trying to help you beat what I couldn't," the guitar god said, "You can't end up like me, you've got too much to live for! You've got your friends, a couple hundred fans, your mum who's in some hospital in Indiana in critical condition, not to mention all the talent you'll ever need!"

"Y-You're right, Steve." Edd sniffed, "I can't drown my grief out in scotch when I have a rock festival to win and a mom in the hospital."

"That's good, 'Eddward the Great'," Steve replied, snuffing his cigarette, "You'll beat the drink yet. You still fucked up, though. You've got an ambulance ride and a stomach pump ahead of you when you come to."

Edd nodded. "You think I'll be able to quit for good? I mean, I thought I was done after the binge when Kayliegh broke up with me…"

"Don't worry, you've got your band mates, they'll help you get through it," Steve replied, "I'll come by and check on you from time to time, too."

"Thanks, Steve. I've been wondering though, why are you helping me?"

"Why wouldn't I? It tears me up every time I see another kid die from the sauce, and besides," Steve grinned, punching Edd on the arm, "We rock gods have to stick together, right?"

Edd grinned and nodded to the legendary Leppard.

"Bye Steve, thanks again."

"No problem, mate," Steve called, "Just remember what I told you, you'll be fine!"

"Hey Ed, wake up you idiot!"

The car-less wonder yawned and stretched as his eyes peeled open.

"Hiya Eddy!" Ed greeted.

"Yeah, hey Ed," Eddy replied, "'Bout time you woke up, Mullet. It's like, noon already!"

"What?" Ed asked.

The confused rhythm guitarist scratched his head and looked up at the clock. Oh, pshaw! What was Eddy whining about? It was only 12:15. 12:15!
Ed ran frantically about his room, throwing on a clean t-shirt and pair of jeans and sloppily ran a comb through his ol' Kentucky Waterfall before racing back to meet his friend.

"Finally! Took ya long enough…" the drummer griped, "Now c'mon Ed, let's go get Double D, maybe he'll think of something to do."

"Right behind you, Eddy!" Ed responded.

The two strutted up Peach Creek Court towards their friend's lair, which still only had the Volkswagen in the driveway.

"Huh, I thought Double D said his parents were supposed to come home today." Eddy noted as he rang the doorbell an unnecessary amount of times, "C'mon, Double D, open up!"

Eddy rang the doorbell, screamed, and pounded some more, but to no avail.

"To good to answer the door, huh?" Eddy muttered, "C'mon, Mullet, we're sneaking in through the back."

"Oh goody!" Ed exclaimed as he hopped the fence with ease.

Ed and Eddy walked across the backyard and wended their way towards the back door. Just as Eddy suspected, the door was open and they crept inside carefully.

"Double D? Quit foolin' around, we know you're home!" Eddy yelled, "Jeez! Where the hell is he?"

"Maybe the little bastard's asleep, Eddy!" Ed proclaimed.

"Yeah right… I'll check his room, you look down here." Eddy commanded.

"Gotcha, Skipper!" Ed replied, giving Eddy a mock salute.

Ed looked around his surroundings. Well, he knew one thing, his fellow guitarist sure as hell wasn't in the living room; but what about the kitchen? Ed wandered down the hall and stepped into the kitchen area. Suddenly, he heard a small
-clink-

"Huh?"

Ed looked down and picked up a huge bottle. As he looked across the floor, he saw even more bottles. This wasn't good…

"Double D? Are you in here?" Ed asked.

"Ed…" a choked voice responded.

Ed looked up and saw his friend's shoes sticking out from under the kitchen table. He raced over and pulled his buddy out from under the table.

"Double D, are you ok?" Ed inquired.

Edd didn't give an answer, but instead moaned and coughed up more blood.

"Uh-oh, coughing up blood's not ok!" Ed cried, "EDDY! GET DOWN HERE!"

Eddy groaned and shuffled down the steps and towards the kitchen.

"He probably got his finger stuck in the drain again…" Eddy grumbled.

Eddy entered the kitchen and was shocked to see Double D of all people passed out on the kitchen floor with coughed up blood all around him.

"Oh fuck! I'll call an ambulance!" Eddy yelled, dashing towards the phone.

"911, what is your emergency?" An oddly calm lady responded.

"Yeah, I need a fuckin' ambulance, now!"

"Sir, calm down. What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong, lady. My friend's passed out on the floor, he's not moving and he's coughing up blood!" Eddy shouted into the phone.

"Ok, sir where are you?"

"615 Peach Creek Court, now hurry! He's not moving!" Eddy yelled.

Eddy hung up the phone and turned around to help tend to his lifelong buddy.

"Eddy, look." Ed trembled, showing Eddy the empty bottle of scotch, "Double D's hooked on something Eddy, and it's not phonics…"

"Ah, I think he's finally awakening." A strange voice said.

Edd's eyes slowly opened to see a doctor and a few nurses standing around him. He wasn't shocked that he was in a hospital, but he wondered how long he was expected to stay there. He, Ed, Eddy, and Christian had a contest to win…

"How are you feeling, Eddward?" The doctor asked.

Edd raised his hand slightly and rocked it from side to side in response.

"I feel ok, I guess, just a little woozy." He answered.

"It's a miracle you're alive at all," The doctor said, "You consumed a dangerous amount of alcohol, your B.A.C was .54, yet you seem to be doing oddly well."

"Somebody up there likes me, I guess." Edd replied.

"Would you like to see your friends, Eddward?" The nurse asked, "They've been pacing the halls since you got here about two hours ago."

"Y-Yeah let 'em in." Double D muttered.

The nurse left briefly and returned with Ed, Eddy, and Christian, who all looked extremely pensive and nervous.

"How's he doing, doc?" Eddy asked.

"He's doing surprisingly well," The doctor responded, "Much better than we expected."

"When will he be able to go home?" Ed questioned.

"He should probably stay here for a day or two, just to make sure he recovers properly. I'd say he'd be out by Thursday at the latest." The doctor answered, "When we do release him, though, make sure he relaxes, he's still very weak physically from all the alcohol."

"Can do, thanks doc." Eddy stated.

"We'll just leave you four alone to visit for a while." The doctor said, "Call us if he needs anything."

"Hey there, Double D. How ya feelin'?" Christian asked his friend.

"I feel awesome, man," Double wheezed, flipping the metal salute, "I just have one hell of a hangover."

"You think you'll be able to play on Friday? We can forfeit our spot, there's always next year…" Eddy added.

Edd shook his head aggressively, "No, I'll be good to go by Friday, this is our big chance! If we win this, we'll be huge! I'll play sitting down if I have to!"

"Ye-heah!" Christian said in his 'stage voice', "That's the spirit! But seriously, you want anything? Another pillow, perhaps a refreshing lukewarm hospital beverage?"

"You know what I'd really like right now?" Edd said, "Could one of you guys bring my guitar over here for me? I've got to keep my skills sharp for the Mosh Rock Festival we're going to win."

"Consider it done." Eddy answered, "We'll all go over to your place and bring you back some clothes and CDs and stuff, too. It's probably gonna get mega boring around here real quick."

"Thanks, guys, I appreciate it." Edd said.

"Any time, guitar god." Christian replied, "We'll be back soon, you lie down here and try to focus on getting better. No more beers for you mister!"

"Woo-hoo! Party at Double D's house!" Ed hooted as he followed Eddy and Christian out the door.

"Ready to go there, Double D?" Christian asked.

"Hell yeah I'm ready, I've been waiting to check out all week!" The recovered guitarist replied, "C'mon, let's go."

Edd picked up his guitar and strapped it over his shoulder, then slipped on his shoes and slowly began to walk towards the door, where his friends were waiting to give him a ride home. The doctor was right, Edd felt a little wobbly when he walked, but hey, his playing hadn't suffered at all. If worse came to worse, he could always use that chair idea he thought up.

"Take it easy, man," Eddy said, "We don't want you to have to come back here anytime soon."

"Alright, Alright…" Double D muttered, "You're worse than my mother..."

"That was a good one, Double D!" Ed chuckled.

Edtallica walked to the receptionist and checked Edd out, then made their way to the parking lot. They let Double D ride shotgun in Eddy's truck while Christian and Ed piled into the back. As they drove home, Double D felt nervous. It wasn't just the pre-gig jitters that were slowly overtaking him before Mosh Rock, but he was also nervous about the future. Would he be able to quit the drink for good? Then he looked around at his band mates. That answered his question, with a little help from his friends, he would probably be able to do lots of things.

A/N: Whoa, long chapter! My wrists and fingers are killing me, but I don't care. It looks like we're nearing the end of Edtallica's wild ride, but cheer up, faithful readers; it's not over yet! Read and review this bad boy while I go dunk my hands in a bucket of ice.