Metalocalypse Drabble Challenge #16
Jul. 18th, 2007 06:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsPrompt: Magic
Pairing: Rockso/Murderface
How? How did that fat, hairy, David Lee Roth-wannabe douche bag keep appearing out of nowhere? It was an awful form of black magic but as far as Murderface knew, clowns weren’t supposed to have magic powers. Sleight of hand and an ability to frighten children and readers of Stephen King novels, but no actual magic. Then again, considering the band had summoned a troll and met the Blues Devil, magic did exist. Perhaps Rockso had sold his soul to the demon of cocaine for an endless supply of snow and his limited, but admittedly horrifying, talent to teleport into his presence. Regardless of whether or not it was magic, the damn clown was a plague upon the bassist’s existence.
Even more than how, Murderface wanted to know why. Why in the world did Rockso choose to harass him? After all, Toki was his alleged friend and the rest of the band, despite the overall dislike they harbored for the clown, was less likely to savagely maim or kill him. Lately the pasty-faced, pink-haired dildo had gotten smart, dancing out of the way immediately after making Murderface aware of his presence and freaking him out. His knife arm was fast but not THAT fast and as yet Dethklok’s resident masochist and small arms enthusiast had yet to manage more than a few scratches and decidedly unwanted tears to the rock ‘n’ roll clown’s attire.
Worst of all, Rockso was getting bolder. The whispers in his ear, the hand in his pocket, the unwanted faint squeaks from the spiked, round rubber nose when it rubbed against his cheek had been bad enough but lately things had escalated. Fingertips covered in the lint-speckled fabric of his pockets drifted too far and rubbed against regions few groupies cared to explore. Whispers had become murmured obscenities accompanied by a hint of tongue around the shell of his ear. And there had been something else poking into him against another cheek the last time Rockso had the gall to show up in Mordhaus and that had been the most disquieting of all.
His dreams were haunted; twisted carnival nightmares in which he was chased through a hall of mirrors – the only reflections worse than his own ugly countenance were the ones with the grinning, painted fiend – and found the exit at the end of a clown’s mouth tunnel. He woke up before the chewing was finished, shaking and angry and he’d destroyed five chairs already taking out his fear and anger. Only once had the dream turned his way. He’d shoved an air pump right up the bastard’s hairy ass and inflated him like a balloon, contorting him with all the skill of a circus performer into screaming parodies of various animals before Rockso finally exploded in a flurry of white powder from all the pressure.
The sheets were sticky after that dream and Murderface had stared down at himself and wondered if it wasn’t more of the clown’s sick and twisted magic at work.
Pairing: Rockso/Murderface
How? How did that fat, hairy, David Lee Roth-wannabe douche bag keep appearing out of nowhere? It was an awful form of black magic but as far as Murderface knew, clowns weren’t supposed to have magic powers. Sleight of hand and an ability to frighten children and readers of Stephen King novels, but no actual magic. Then again, considering the band had summoned a troll and met the Blues Devil, magic did exist. Perhaps Rockso had sold his soul to the demon of cocaine for an endless supply of snow and his limited, but admittedly horrifying, talent to teleport into his presence. Regardless of whether or not it was magic, the damn clown was a plague upon the bassist’s existence.
Even more than how, Murderface wanted to know why. Why in the world did Rockso choose to harass him? After all, Toki was his alleged friend and the rest of the band, despite the overall dislike they harbored for the clown, was less likely to savagely maim or kill him. Lately the pasty-faced, pink-haired dildo had gotten smart, dancing out of the way immediately after making Murderface aware of his presence and freaking him out. His knife arm was fast but not THAT fast and as yet Dethklok’s resident masochist and small arms enthusiast had yet to manage more than a few scratches and decidedly unwanted tears to the rock ‘n’ roll clown’s attire.
Worst of all, Rockso was getting bolder. The whispers in his ear, the hand in his pocket, the unwanted faint squeaks from the spiked, round rubber nose when it rubbed against his cheek had been bad enough but lately things had escalated. Fingertips covered in the lint-speckled fabric of his pockets drifted too far and rubbed against regions few groupies cared to explore. Whispers had become murmured obscenities accompanied by a hint of tongue around the shell of his ear. And there had been something else poking into him against another cheek the last time Rockso had the gall to show up in Mordhaus and that had been the most disquieting of all.
His dreams were haunted; twisted carnival nightmares in which he was chased through a hall of mirrors – the only reflections worse than his own ugly countenance were the ones with the grinning, painted fiend – and found the exit at the end of a clown’s mouth tunnel. He woke up before the chewing was finished, shaking and angry and he’d destroyed five chairs already taking out his fear and anger. Only once had the dream turned his way. He’d shoved an air pump right up the bastard’s hairy ass and inflated him like a balloon, contorting him with all the skill of a circus performer into screaming parodies of various animals before Rockso finally exploded in a flurry of white powder from all the pressure.
The sheets were sticky after that dream and Murderface had stared down at himself and wondered if it wasn’t more of the clown’s sick and twisted magic at work.
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-18 02:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-18 10:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-19 09:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-19 04:10 am (UTC)*twitch*
That was... funny, yet oddly disturbing...
Lol, cocaine explosion. XD
no subject
Date: 2007-07-19 09:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-19 05:21 pm (UTC)Pennywise and Dr. Rockso.
And Pennywise has NOTHING on Dr. Rockso.
I mean seriously, Pennywise doesn't do cocaine, and probably wouldn't dare to venture near Murderface's pocket. XD