High above the crowds and the smoke and the lasers, Lemmy sat on a dark cloud. Torrential rain poured from its gunmetal guts. Lemmy was an opaque shadow, seated at a cocktail table with another gentleman who could barely be made out in the darkness. Just then, a third man appeared and sat with them. The cloud pulsated and throbbed in the sky as a Pennywise themed balloon farted past limply, expending its last bits of hate filled air, and slowly began to plummet.
"Why did you do it, man! You remember when we saw Sun Ra, right at the end, when they wheeled him out on stage in a fuckin' wheelchair, man. As it happens, this Kilmister didn't have a say in the matter, my fuckin' body just gave it up."
The other gentleman barely distinguishable in the darkness sighed. It was Keith Emerson.
"Lemmy, it just hurts when you don't have it anymore, you know? You start to wonder, am I a joke? A has been? I couldn't bear going on stage giving lackluster performances after rising to the heights I got to. It wasn't fair to the fans, and it--"
"FUCK the bloody FANS, Keith, you had SO much LIFE left. You just don't fuckin' kill yourself when so many are getting taken so early for no reason, by cancer, fuckin' liver damage, overdoses, car crashes, heart attacks. You couldn't go on? What the fuck, man."
Lemmy ashed his smoke into the little aluminum ashtray on the cocktail table, and looked at Keith sadly. The ashtray was just like the ones they used to have at McDonalds, he thought, back when you could still bloody smoke in one.
The third man spoke up. He had on a black cowboy hat and a black Nudie suit, and he had a black owl on his right shoulder.
"Leave him alone."
"Aw, who fuckin' asked you, Merle?" snapped Lemmy, immediately regretting it.
"This ain't about you, partner," he continued, more gently. Lemmy was upset, but he didn't mean any disrespect to Mr. Haggard.
Keith put his head down on the table.
Down below, the band had fallen silent. The crowd was roaring and chanting.
"Can't you see it's not helping?" asked Merle. He pulled out a flask and took a swig and handed it to Keith. Keith took it and looked at it absently, then handed it back.
The cloud poured grey sheets.
Lemmy wept.
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
Phonobaloon Song
It was Pennybags. MUSIC MAKES ME GROW! he cackled disturbingly between laughs. MUSIC MAKES ME GROW! And he was large. It seemed to be true.
The lead singer of Kraftpark saw him, but unafraid, he said drolly in the badly faked German accent that was a part of his act, "Isn't your plan a bit stoo-pid?"
I AM NOT THAT SIMPLE, P-bags cackled and chuckled again.
"Yah, vee'll see. Zee Phonobaloon Song, guyss!"
Pennybags, fortunately, had not had time to think his plan through. He was unused to his newfound size and undextrous within it, was too clumsy to be all that destructive, though not for lack of trying. He lumbered towards the stage. Menacingly at first, but -
The marshmallow-cuckoo-clock tones of the Phonobaloon Song rapidly worsened his weakness. It inflated him much more rapidly than Milk Rock had. He swelled and ballooned. He floated into the air. The concert hall transformed into a stadium, and nobody felt it was strange. Pennybags floated higher and higher. Everyone present accepted that reality was malleable that day, and would have looked at you funny if you called it funny.
Pennybags floated higher still. He finally remembered to shoot lasers from his eyes, but it was too late. They danced colorfully across the stadium, and the crowd roared in psychedelic delight.
"Bye, George... I think I've got it..." Pennybags sighed as he floated off south over the Canadian-US border. Pilots that evening reported that the giant floating man seemed resigned, and defeated, but healthy. (Most of those pilots were then promptly fired for suspected mental illness or drug use.)
Not much later, Glenn Danzig sighed in relief and addressed our other protagonists in his best "you know I'm a protagonist too, right?" voice, cutting straight to the point:
"Uhh... where's Lemmy?"
The lead singer of Kraftpark saw him, but unafraid, he said drolly in the badly faked German accent that was a part of his act, "Isn't your plan a bit stoo-pid?"
I AM NOT THAT SIMPLE, P-bags cackled and chuckled again.
"Yah, vee'll see. Zee Phonobaloon Song, guyss!"
Pennybags, fortunately, had not had time to think his plan through. He was unused to his newfound size and undextrous within it, was too clumsy to be all that destructive, though not for lack of trying. He lumbered towards the stage. Menacingly at first, but -
The marshmallow-cuckoo-clock tones of the Phonobaloon Song rapidly worsened his weakness. It inflated him much more rapidly than Milk Rock had. He swelled and ballooned. He floated into the air. The concert hall transformed into a stadium, and nobody felt it was strange. Pennybags floated higher and higher. Everyone present accepted that reality was malleable that day, and would have looked at you funny if you called it funny.
Pennybags floated higher still. He finally remembered to shoot lasers from his eyes, but it was too late. They danced colorfully across the stadium, and the crowd roared in psychedelic delight.
"Bye, George... I think I've got it..." Pennybags sighed as he floated off south over the Canadian-US border. Pilots that evening reported that the giant floating man seemed resigned, and defeated, but healthy. (Most of those pilots were then promptly fired for suspected mental illness or drug use.)
Not much later, Glenn Danzig sighed in relief and addressed our other protagonists in his best "you know I'm a protagonist too, right?" voice, cutting straight to the point:
"Uhh... where's Lemmy?"
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Pennybags Gets Mad Now
At Mama Brain's Arcade, there had been a dark haired biker looking dude with his back turned playing a game of Galaga II through the entire conversation. As the number by The Organization drew to an end, he stopped playing, and turned and looked what must have been almost seventy five yards, at Lemmy, who gazed at him from the audience at the front of the stage. Lemmy walked towards the arcade, weaving in a trance, meandering between drunken and stoned concert goers, ("Hey, buddy, you wanna hit?" a long haired kid shoves a joint in his face), "Nah!!" Lemmy pushes it away, instead feeling in his back left pocket, and pulling out his half pint bottle of Jack. He keeps walking towards them but he never gets any closer. He is lost in a crowd of ecstatic revelers who'd just had their minds blown.
The arcade seems to stretch away further than before from the stage, like the door in a hallway in that one horror movie, when the poor protagonist can never get to the end of the hall to safety and get away from what was coming behind--
Something ripped in space time and the dark haired biker turned toward Mama Brain and Lemtata.
It was Glenn Danzig. He looked truly frightened.
"He's coming." He said, looking further away from the stage and behind the ladies.
"I think he's mad now."
Then they heard the laughing.
The arcade seems to stretch away further than before from the stage, like the door in a hallway in that one horror movie, when the poor protagonist can never get to the end of the hall to safety and get away from what was coming behind--
Something ripped in space time and the dark haired biker turned toward Mama Brain and Lemtata.
It was Glenn Danzig. He looked truly frightened.
"He's coming." He said, looking further away from the stage and behind the ladies.
"I think he's mad now."
Then they heard the laughing.
Friday, September 4, 2015
Milk Rock
“The will to do it a twist!” cried the Lonely God.
“Uh… what?” exclaimed everyone else in the room. Which was kind of somehow a store and kind of somehow a bar, because it was funky that way.
“You have committed all the sins!”
“That was surprisingly comprehensible,” mumbled Lemtata.
“Any you do not have to have an Candice! No, I will send of you all to another place and time! To Toronto in 2013! And—”
Mama Brain interrupted. “Yeah, babe. *Which* 2013?”
“Uh… what?” exclaimed everyone else in the room, except the Lonely God.
His response was “Funky woman really talk!”.
“What is he talking about, hon?” Lemtata asked Mama.
“Oh, everybody died.”
“What?”
“Just like that. Suddenly, everyone died. Just us humans, not anything else. It was about, I don’t know, 2016 or so? I wasn’t following that closely. Then human history started over again from the monkies and, well, a few billion years later, here we are, honey.” Mama Brain was now on UFO stage of Time Pilot, but did not seem to be giving it any attention while sailing unscathed through the hails of on-screen bullets.
“Yeah... right. Some kind of weird poison or something?”
“Oh no, the authors were just bored I think.”
“The AUTHORS?”
“Oh, they’re all right. Hey look, we’re there!”
To Lemtata’s amazement, they really were there. Mama Brain’s arcade corner, where Lemtata was standing to chat, was still an arcade corner, but it was further away from everyone else in the concert hall. They were in a concert hall. Some band was giving a concert.
“This piece is by The Organization,” announced the band leader. “It doesn't have lyrics, so we gave it some, because it's no fun just being a cover band all the time. Can we hear it for creativity?”
The crowd roared.
“All right. Bear with us, this song doesn't have much room for lyrics, so it might sound pretty strange. But it sounds pretty strange anyway. All you big fans, you know what we're talking about! Get ready for Milk Rock!”
Into various points in the melodious cacophony that ensued they moaned and shouted:
Fantastisch,
Elektrische,
Melancholisch,
Irrsinnig,
Romantisch,
Statistische,
Poetisch,
weiß, schmelzende Musik...
Lemmy stood at the front of the audience throughout the whole song, his jaw hanging low.
“Uh… what?” exclaimed everyone else in the room. Which was kind of somehow a store and kind of somehow a bar, because it was funky that way.
“You have committed all the sins!”
“That was surprisingly comprehensible,” mumbled Lemtata.
“Any you do not have to have an Candice! No, I will send of you all to another place and time! To Toronto in 2013! And—”
Mama Brain interrupted. “Yeah, babe. *Which* 2013?”
“Uh… what?” exclaimed everyone else in the room, except the Lonely God.
His response was “Funky woman really talk!”.
“What is he talking about, hon?” Lemtata asked Mama.
“Oh, everybody died.”
“What?”
“Just like that. Suddenly, everyone died. Just us humans, not anything else. It was about, I don’t know, 2016 or so? I wasn’t following that closely. Then human history started over again from the monkies and, well, a few billion years later, here we are, honey.” Mama Brain was now on UFO stage of Time Pilot, but did not seem to be giving it any attention while sailing unscathed through the hails of on-screen bullets.
“Yeah... right. Some kind of weird poison or something?”
“Oh no, the authors were just bored I think.”
“The AUTHORS?”
“Oh, they’re all right. Hey look, we’re there!”
To Lemtata’s amazement, they really were there. Mama Brain’s arcade corner, where Lemtata was standing to chat, was still an arcade corner, but it was further away from everyone else in the concert hall. They were in a concert hall. Some band was giving a concert.
“This piece is by The Organization,” announced the band leader. “It doesn't have lyrics, so we gave it some, because it's no fun just being a cover band all the time. Can we hear it for creativity?”
The crowd roared.
“All right. Bear with us, this song doesn't have much room for lyrics, so it might sound pretty strange. But it sounds pretty strange anyway. All you big fans, you know what we're talking about! Get ready for Milk Rock!”
Into various points in the melodious cacophony that ensued they moaned and shouted:
Fantastisch,
Elektrische,
Melancholisch,
Irrsinnig,
Romantisch,
Statistische,
Poetisch,
weiß, schmelzende Musik...
Lemmy stood at the front of the audience throughout the whole song, his jaw hanging low.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Lonely God
As the battle commenced, Joe happened to be eating a bag of asian potato twists. He watched from a bar stool, semi-interested, and nudged Lemtata. A fight for the soul of Candace began, Mama Brain against the two Pennys, and one Penny against the other. There was lightning and electricity and strange ooze and screaming. Most of the bars patrons split when it started, except for Joe, Lem, Lemmy, and Nik Turner, who was too busy rolling a joint on the bar to notice the commotion.
"She's mine!!!" screamed Pennybags, his monocle steamed up with perspired moisture.
"You can't just make up the rules!! She still has a choice in this!" replied Pennywise, his long green teeth oozing and dripping, his eyes like a sickened reptile.
Pennybags shot a laser out of both his eyes, chuckling and grimacing.
"It's too late. You know it. I know it."
Mama Brain was not having it. She had not come for anything less than Candace and the end of both of these monsters.
Joe stood up and briskly walked into the fray in-between the three of them.
"Stop," he said. "This matter is outside the authority of all of you. The Lonely God will decide. Let him come forth."
Joe threw down his bag of twists and motioned to the others to look.
After a minute of suspicious glaring, they all gazed down to look at what he had discarded.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Micro Mini Cool
Penny and Penny each strode to the Soups and Pasta aisle, each full of the urge for confrontation, and stared down it at each other as Mama seemingly wove incomprehensible plans of her own on that Time Pilot cabinet.
Pennywise broke the silence first.
"I think it's time to put a new record on the turntable, Bags.
It's strange that it's all gone so wrong... these guys freaking on the floor before us... these spiderwebs of horror... Don't you agree?"
"It's always the small things, young man."
"...Sigh. You were always so crude, and you haven't changed."
"And so refined about it, Wiseguy!"
"And so refined. Yes, she was small. But she's no thing."
"She's a thing for us. A prize. I'm just honest about it."
"...It didn't have to be."
"But it is."
"But it is, but... she was such a treasure. I mean, a good person. Great to be around. Cool!"
"I am not interested in 'cool,' young man."
Pennywise ignored him. "Why did we go to the store late last night looking for this fight?"
(Jose checked his watch. It really was a new morning... where had the time gone?)
"I no longer care about the girl. But I won't forget your slights."
"You don't care? Then burn this." Pennywise threw a heavy framed photo at Pennybags. The glass in front shattered as it landed. "You don't care, right?"
The photo of Candace was shoulders-up, so here she stood as tall as anyone. Her smile in it could radiate happiness into the hardest of hearts. Pennybags lost his composure after just a glance, then regained it. "It doesn't matter. She's gone," he sniffed.
"You mean she's gone to where we wouldn't follow."
"I'll only follow without you. That's why you're going to die, Wiseguy."
"I know you'd only follow without me. And for years, I would have only followed without you. But now, you're going to follow me."
The scenery began to change. The characters did not. "I'm sorry," muttered Pennywise.
Pennywise broke the silence first.
"I think it's time to put a new record on the turntable, Bags.
It's strange that it's all gone so wrong... these guys freaking on the floor before us... these spiderwebs of horror... Don't you agree?"
"It's always the small things, young man."
"...Sigh. You were always so crude, and you haven't changed."
"And so refined about it, Wiseguy!"
"And so refined. Yes, she was small. But she's no thing."
"She's a thing for us. A prize. I'm just honest about it."
"...It didn't have to be."
"But it is."
"But it is, but... she was such a treasure. I mean, a good person. Great to be around. Cool!"
"I am not interested in 'cool,' young man."
Pennywise ignored him. "Why did we go to the store late last night looking for this fight?"
(Jose checked his watch. It really was a new morning... where had the time gone?)
"I no longer care about the girl. But I won't forget your slights."
"You don't care? Then burn this." Pennywise threw a heavy framed photo at Pennybags. The glass in front shattered as it landed. "You don't care, right?"
The photo of Candace was shoulders-up, so here she stood as tall as anyone. Her smile in it could radiate happiness into the hardest of hearts. Pennybags lost his composure after just a glance, then regained it. "It doesn't matter. She's gone," he sniffed.
"You mean she's gone to where we wouldn't follow."
"I'll only follow without you. That's why you're going to die, Wiseguy."
"I know you'd only follow without me. And for years, I would have only followed without you. But now, you're going to follow me."
The scenery began to change. The characters did not. "I'm sorry," muttered Pennywise.
Penny for Candy
As it turns out, Pennybags and Pennywise both adored Candy. And they both went to extremes to taste a little.
Like infiltrating the store and rewiring the security system. Like conning Joe and his crew, as well as the British Hawklord rockers into acting as a distraction.
Like creating an entire virtual computer landscape to house the secret.
You see, Candy was no ordinary virtual concubine. She had once been a real girl. Like an inverse female digital Pinocchio, she had become their private puppet. And she just happened to be Lemtata's long lost sister Candace.
Like infiltrating the store and rewiring the security system. Like conning Joe and his crew, as well as the British Hawklord rockers into acting as a distraction.
Like creating an entire virtual computer landscape to house the secret.
You see, Candy was no ordinary virtual concubine. She had once been a real girl. Like an inverse female digital Pinocchio, she had become their private puppet. And she just happened to be Lemtata's long lost sister Candace.
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