Epilogue:
Magnus Hammersmith sat in the living room of his small, fibro-board house as the nightly news blasted from the television.
'Mordhaus attacked. Dethklok missing. Manager dead.' Scrolled along the bottom of the screen as the news helicopter circled Mordhaus lit up like a Norwegian Church. He laughed to himself and cracked another beer, watching their world burn.
A rapid banging on his door made him jump in his chair. He delicately put down his beer, then carefully extracted his gun from the drawer of the side table. Each footstep was slow as he approached the persistent knocking. Cocking the pistol, he spied through the peep hole. There was a tall, thin, blonde man, covered in blood standing on his porch. Fuck, not this guy.
The door chain drew back and he cracked the door ajar. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Magnus barked. "I told you guys I didn't want anything to do with your shit."
"And because of that, I knew you'd be home." Pelle pushed his way into the house, disregarding the loaded gun. "They're alive. After all that planning, they fucking escaped."
Magnus darted to the windows to draw the curtains closed in the living room; He didn't want anyone to see him with this weirdo, people might talk. That's when he saw the totally inconspicuous bright red Aston Martin out the front with 'Pickles007' for a licence plate. Pelle was burned, bloody and scraping the bottom of the friendship barrel.
"Fuck. You were there?" Magnus sat back down, gun on his knee, watching the news reel with new eyes.
"Yep, managed to take out a few guards and get away in the confusion. Saw the bastards fly away. They could be on the other side of the world by now." He fell onto the sofa next to Magnus's armchair and put his head in his hands.
"Don't get comfortable." Magnus said, tapping the gun with his forefinger. "In fact, I think it's about time you were leaving. I already told your man, I'm not interested."
Pelle sighed, "There's only one man for me. And I would have had him too, if" his lip curled in disdain, then pulled upward into a malicious smile. "Shit, that's it. That's how we bring them down."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Magnus stood, "You know what? I don't fucking care. Time to go." He pointed the gun at Pelle, but he ignored it completely.
"Fuck it's so obvious. I just didn't want it to be true." Pelle turned his head up to look at Magnus. "I know how to bring Skwisgaar down. If you bring him down, you bring down Dethklok."
"Fucking please. That little whelp?" Magnus narrowed his eyes at him.
"Tell me it's not true? Nathan may be the creative vision, but my Skwisgaar, he's the engine. He does the work to make the dream into reality. And, I know how to stop that. How to kill that engine." He laughed to himself, like an addict thinking clearly for the first time in years.
"Really?" Magnus lowered his weapon. Shit, now he was intrigued. He hated that blonde dipshit the moment he met him. "How do you take down a 'God?'" He said 'God' in the most mocking tone he could.
Pelle smiled through his blood drenched teeth, "Toki."