Pickles (the Drummer) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
zazz) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2012-12-23 11:34 pm
zazz) wrote in capeandcowllogs2012-12-23 11:34 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
WHO: Pickles and the Shade
WHERE: Pickles' apartment
WHEN: Forward dated to Xmas Eve, nighttime
WARNINGS: Just inappropriate language and behaviour from Pickles
SUMMARY: Pickles doesn't like Xmas on principle of it not being fucking brutal, but the dude's still a lonely little drummer boy.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, then whatever Jill chooses to go with.
Pickles had never really liked Christmas. His parents had effectively ruined that holiday for him very early on by getting him stuff like his father's cigarette butts and one sock while his brother got a really cool toy GI Joe truck to tool around in (then crash and destroy all on the same day and claim it was Pickles' fault).
He managed to avoid the holiday most of his life after running away from home, except the times Toki got his way back in Mordhaus. Even then something would happen that would make the shit holiday worthwhile, be it spectacular deaths or public humiliation of other people, or both, if he was lucky. But he had a feeling he wouldn't have any treats like that here in the City. Nothing that could really satisfy him, at least.
He was feeling pretty bummed thanks to the stupid holiday he didn't even fucking celebrate, because he was sure everyone in the world had someone to spend the holiday with while his band--while Nathan--was a whole shitty universe away. Dethklok didn't even have a Christmas tradition that he was missing, it was more the fact that people out there were hanging out with their best buds and getting drunk off eggnog while he didn't have that was really getting him down.
Shit, he even had bought the wrong fucking alcohol-free eggnog by mistake!
He took another drink of his beer-and-eggnog, staring blankly at his third viewing of A Christmas Story, thinking up all the various things he and Nathan could be doing to torture Murderface right then instead of that, and sighed.
WHERE: Pickles' apartment
WHEN: Forward dated to Xmas Eve, nighttime
WARNINGS: Just inappropriate language and behaviour from Pickles
SUMMARY: Pickles doesn't like Xmas on principle of it not being fucking brutal, but the dude's still a lonely little drummer boy.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, then whatever Jill chooses to go with.
Pickles had never really liked Christmas. His parents had effectively ruined that holiday for him very early on by getting him stuff like his father's cigarette butts and one sock while his brother got a really cool toy GI Joe truck to tool around in (then crash and destroy all on the same day and claim it was Pickles' fault).
He managed to avoid the holiday most of his life after running away from home, except the times Toki got his way back in Mordhaus. Even then something would happen that would make the shit holiday worthwhile, be it spectacular deaths or public humiliation of other people, or both, if he was lucky. But he had a feeling he wouldn't have any treats like that here in the City. Nothing that could really satisfy him, at least.
He was feeling pretty bummed thanks to the stupid holiday he didn't even fucking celebrate, because he was sure everyone in the world had someone to spend the holiday with while his band--while Nathan--was a whole shitty universe away. Dethklok didn't even have a Christmas tradition that he was missing, it was more the fact that people out there were hanging out with their best buds and getting drunk off eggnog while he didn't have that was really getting him down.
Shit, he even had bought the wrong fucking alcohol-free eggnog by mistake!
He took another drink of his beer-and-eggnog, staring blankly at his third viewing of A Christmas Story, thinking up all the various things he and Nathan could be doing to torture Murderface right then instead of that, and sighed.