The Contest (finished on 7/15)

[Anonymouse]

What: “The Contest”, a Metalocalypse fic.

Who: Everyone! (Even Charles, who’s coming in later.)

Where: Mordhaus.

When: Two in the morning on a random Saturday night.

Why: Because I could totally see this happening.

Warnings: A few curse words and references to anatomy. Everyone is going to sneeze, including Murderface, even though I know he repulses some people, so sorry about that!

---

Not since the clip of the guy sucking his own you-know-what had the members of Dethklok been so baffled by a YouTube video.

“What ams she doings?”

“Who cares? I’d totally does her.”

“Me too. She hash amazshing titsh.”

“What the hell…”

Pestered by his band mates’ comments, Pickles turned the volume up and continued to watch intently as the girl in the video slid a twisted-up tissue into her left nostril. He could feel (and smell) Murderface leaning over his shoulder, breathing heavily. “Juscht look at those titsch…”

“Ihptschiiiiew!”

Half the band recoiled as the unexpected sneeze burst forth from the computer speakers. Fumbling, Pickles turned the volume down just as another girly but high-pitched “Ischiiiiew!” ruptured their eardrums.

“Feck, sahrry, that was loud.”

Toki tilted his head. “Why ams she sneezings?”

“I guess that’s what happens when you shove shit up your nose.”

They stood there in contemplative silence, watching as the girl induced sixteen more sneezes in three minutes. When the video ended nobody moved. They were waiting to see if anything else would happen.

“Was that it?” Nathan ventured after a moment.

Pickles nodded in confirmation. “Yup. It’s over.”

This time the break in talking was filled with the nervous sounds of Skwisgaar plucking out scales on his guitar. Murderface cleared his throat. Toki sniffled, his own nose itchy just from watching the girl in the video tickle hers for four straight minutes.

Nathan let out a conclusive “Huh.” He took a swig of his beer and tossed the empty bottle aside, where it landed with a clank beside all the others that had piled up over the course of the night. “I didn’t know you could make yourself sneeze by doing that.”

“Ya learn shumthin’ new everyday.”

“Yeh know what would be fun?”

The others regarded Pickles warily. His idea of fun usually resulted in someone falling off the eighteenth floor balcony. When they refused to hazard a guess he flashed them a drunk, lopsided smile. “A sneezing contest.”

Skwisgaar looked mildly alarmed. “You means we haves to sticks t’ings up our nose like dat girl?”

“I’m sure it doesn’t hurt,” Pickles reasoned. “Otherwise she wouldn’t be doin’ it.”

Skwisgaar continued to look uncertain. Toki, picking up on this, piped in immediately. “I bets I can wins.”

As predicted, Skwisgaar let out a derisive “Pfft. You never wins at no’tins.”

“That amen’st true!”

“Hmm, let’s see…” Skwisgaar counted on his finger. “Monopolies, Scrabbles, footsball…”

“Halo,” Nathan added.

“Screws you all off,” Toki retaliated, folding his arms indignantly. “I always wins at Disney Seens-It.”

Skwisgaar snorted again. “I says we does de contest and see who de real winners is.”

“I’m in.”

“Me toos.”

“I guessh I’ll do it.”

“Alright,” Pickles announced, beaming. “Let’s get the toilet paper!”

And that’s how five grown men ended up crammed in a bathroom together, passing around a roll of toilet paper.

---

To be continued!

Edited July 15, 2012 by AnonyMouse

[NameTaken]

Hnnnnnng...Hnng...

This is probably the best scenario ever. I've been feeling so down lately, but this...omg.

I'm really excited.

<33333

[NameTaken]

Aghh, Anony, would it be totally inappropriate to get down on my knees and beg for more of this? I know it's only been a week, and that you have school and a life, and you said to be continued, buuut...

I'm such a needy fan of yours; I need my...fix? I'd most definitely be up for drawing something in exchange for more.

At 1:00 am, I realise how sad my life has become that I am in withdrawal of your insanely awesome writing. WTF. I hope you take my inane babbling as praise, and not as mithering.

So yeah, I'm gonna...stop being a weirdo and actually sleep.

[Spoo]

How is it that I JUST now saw this?

Fantastic scenario, man! The YouTube video was a clever idea. As always, you have their voices down perfectly. Like, I swears to Gahd I ams watching the [brutal] schow.

I'm with NameTaken. Please continue when you can!

[retrofan191]

Ive been watching alot of this show lately, which made me enjoy it even more

[Anonymouse]

Thanks guys! Retrofan191, I’m so glad you’re watching the show. It makes me so happy when other people get into it because it’s SO GOOD.

Spoo, I see what you did there! Thank you so much!

NameTaken, I’m sorry I haven’t continued yet! I have a bad habit of starting stories and then abandoning them for weeks, but your comment prompted me to finish this chapter. I started it this past weekend but things got busy. I have a 25-page paper due in two weeks and I only have three pages done, so I was freaking out about that, but it won’t hurt to take a break and relax and write about stuff I actually enjoy writing about. And I’m very flattered that you actually enjoy my writing! I hope this can tide you over until the next time I’m able to update. Oh, and if you would like to draw something… you don’t have to… but I’d love to see a sneezy Skwisgaar on the art boards… But you don't have to! I appreciate the offer regardless, even if it was a bribe

PART DOS!

---

After several failed attempts at twisting their toilet paper wads into the precise points the girl in the video managed to achieve, the guys returned to the rec room for a tissue-twisting review. They replayed the video, putting it on mute this time to avoid drawing the attention of the Klokateers passing by in the hallway. “Like this,” Nathan said, rubbing the paper between his massive thumb and forefinger, but it merely dissolved into powder. “Wait, no…”

“Dood, just twist it in the same direction,” Pickles said, demonstrating.

Skwisgaar was sprawled out on the love seat, having already figured his out a few minutes ago. He held the twisted tissue and waited patiently for his band mates to join him, smirking when he saw that Toki was the last to sit down. “Finally gets it, champs?”

Leering, Toki fell onto the couch next to him, forcing the Swede to sit up straight and make some room. The older men sat on the long couch perpendicular to them, each holding their own tissue. The toilet paper roll was placed on the coffee table where everyone would be able to reach it. “Alright,” Pickles said, fiddling with his dethphone for a moment before placing it on the table. There was a timer on the screen, set to count down from sixty minutes. “Whoever sneezes the most in the next hour wins.”

The others nodded, eager to get started. Pickles sifted through the junk on the coffee table and fished out a marker, which he promptly tossed to Toki. “Keep score,” he said, and the Norwegian, pleased to be given some sort of responsibility, leapt to his feet and dragged the white board over to the couch.

After erasing a few old penis scribbles, he wrote each of their names down, leaving ample space beneath for tally marks. “Readies?” he asked, resuming his position on the couch.

When everyone voiced their assent they got started. It was kind of funny watching each other shove rolled-up tissues up their noses, and Toki laughed softly, amused by the situation as well as how much it actually tingled. The tickle built up and throbbed, like an itch in desperate need of scratching, but whenever he felt his breath beginning to hitch the sensation would die down. He groaned in frustration, then gave an surprised cry when Skwisgaar suddenly snapped forward beside him.

“Hnnifsshhiehh!”

“Hey!” Toki exclaimed, the tissue falling out of his nose as he flailed indignantly. “No fairs!”

Skwisgaar managed to give him a smug, albeit wobbly, smile before a second and third sneeze overtook him. Steepling his hands over his mouth and nose, he lunged forward again, bending his long body in half. “HehhEFFSCHHuhh! Hh’ISHHHahh!”

Pickles laughed, his own tissue still dangling from his right nostril. “As always, Skwisgaar’s way ahead a’ all a’ us.”

Throwing his tissue and marker onto the floor, Toki folded his arms and frowned petulantly. “No fairs,” he repeated, earning himself a glare from his fellow guitarist.

“Sucks it uhh… ups and m-marks it,” he instructed, already working on his next fit with his now slightly-damp tissue.

“I nots counts those,” Toki retorted. “They’s fake.”

“Dood, I don’t think those’re fake,” Pickles said, watching as Skwisgaar’s face twisted into yet another pre-sneeze expression.

His slender frame trembled and his bottom lip quivered as he drew in a series of shaky breaths. Eyebrows lifting suddenly, he slammed his hands over his nose and jolted forward again, his shoulders hunching with each sneeze. “Hhihffschhiehh! Hh’ishhhahh! Hh’ihh… hh… hhhIHPFFSHHahh!”

“That makesch schix,” Murderface said, proud of himself for being able to count that high. “But I’m about to catsch up.”

He jammed his tissue up his nose, thrusting it in and out uselessly. His technique wasn’t good as the others'. Nathan’s tactic to keep quiet and keep working at it seemed to be paying off, however. As Toki grudgingly tallied up Skwisgaar’s score with the tiniest tally marks he could make, the frontman’s eyelids began to droop, his nostrils distending slowly. “Huuuhhhh…”

Everyone else froze for a moment, having not considered the full implications of their decision to participate in such a contest. Nathan rarely sneezed, but when he did it was louder than a legion of Hell’s Angels tearing through a Sunday morning church service. Toki preemptively marked a tally under Nathan’s name before diving back onto the loveseat and covering his ears. Pickles and Murderface scooted towards their respective ends of the couch as the singer’s body shook with massive breaths. Skwisgaar continued on tickling his own nose as if he wasn’t about to get his eardrums blasted into smithereens. He figured if he could endure Toki’s guitar playing, one of Nathan’s monster sneezes couldn’t be much worse.

“… huuuuhhhh… HRRAHHSCHHHahh!”

The sneeze was directed, uncovered, at the coffee table, causing some magazines to skid a few centimeters across the surface. Fortunately most of the stuff was anchored down by half-empty beer bottles and plates of old food. Nathan straightened up, blinking as if confused, then sniffled and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “Lost my fucking tissue,” he growled after a moment of glancing around.

“Mine’sch all wet,” Murderface grumbled, tossing it to the floor.

Pickles looked at his contemplatively. Once as firm and pointy as a sewing needle, the tip was starting to droop “I wonder if theere’s somethin’ better…”

Skwisgaar scoffed. If he was able to do it with the tissue, there was no excuse for the rest of them not to be able to. “Somet’ings betters like whats?”

The drummer stared at him for a moment before breaking into a slow smile. “Gaht any hairpins?”

---

Edited October 29, 2011 by AnonyMouse

[Spoo]

“I nots counts those,” Toki retorted. “They’s fake.”

!

That was hilarious. Loved the update! And pretty much the whole plot. It's awesome. Yay!

[retrofan191]

This story made me -really- happy. in both the conventional and non-conventional sense. seriously. this scenario is so awesome. and especially fun to picture considering deathklock has like, the best cartoon noses ever ://]

[NameTaken]

Haha, yes, my shameful plea worked! Good luck with your essay!

Ooooh my god. I am so. So. In love with this story. You always keep everyone perfectly in character, like the penis doodles. Lol. I also love your consistency with the way they all sneeze, like Skwisgaar's triples I can't imagine them sneezing any other way now. They're all so adorable; confused-looking Nathan and babyish Toki, guh. <3 I also have to say that Pickles is pretty much a genius. Hairpins...ohhh, the suspense!

Of course I love your writing! Your style is so recognisable and witty I'd love it regardless of whether it was Dethklok or not. And I will totally draw Skwisgaar. I've been meaning to do some more fetish art, and it's the least I can do to express my thanks for your awesomeness. *Any particular scenario? *

This story made me -really- happy. in both the conventional and non-conventional sense. seriously. this scenario is so awesome. and especially fun to picture considering deathklock has like, the best cartoon noses ever ://]

So true...

[AppleBlossom]

Loving the story so far! Keep it up!!

[Masking]

Oooooooooh gahd. *falls over, pants dead*

Oh, boys. Such sneezy brutals peoples. I think I want to hug all of them, and then watch them sneeze. Which you can interpret as me wanting more.

[Anonymouse]

Thanks again for the comments guys! They make me happy (in the conventional way ). I love writing this story. I feel kind of bad for writing this when I should probably finish the last chapter of The Mono Duo, but it’s just so much easier to write the lighthearted stuff. None of this is really planned out either, so I’m making the plot up as I go. Also, you guys will notice that I have added the scoreboard for everyone's convenience. There are going to be a lot of sneezes to try and keep up with. Oh, and NameTaken, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THAT SKWISGAAR. Everyone should check it out on the art board, it's gorgeous.

PART TRES.

---

The hairpin idea was genius. Pickles could feel it working in a way the twisted tissues had not. It was as if some small, thousand-legged creature had climbed up his nostrils to burrow deep into his sinuses, and now it decided it wanted out.

“F-fuhhck… hihngxsh! Hhgnxsht! Kshxsht! Hh’knscht! Hihngxt’choo!”

By the time he finished he was out of breath, and the others were staring at him, impressed. Skwisgaar looked slightly threatened. Patting his stomach, Pickles let out a relieved sigh. “Shit, if I keep sneezin’ like that I’ll have a six pack in no time.”

Skwisgaar, whose stomach was flatter than Toki’s E string on most days, understood completely. Sneezing so forcefully so many times in a row made his abs feel sore, but he was eager to keep going. Only one tally mark separated his score from Pickles’. He inserted the hairpin into his right nostril and brushed it in light circles around the expanding circumference, his eyes starting to shut of their own accord, but before the tickle could build up to a sufficient level he was distracted by a sudden gasp beside him.

“Hhh! … ahpffschahh!”

“Fucks, Toki, you distracteds me!” Skwisgaar exclaimed, his own tickle swiftly fading as Toki built up to another sneeze.

“S-sor… hihh!” He crinkled his nose and drew in a quick, deep breath, his broad chest expanding under his shirt. “Hihh’ihpffschahh!”

Snuffling, he cupped one hand over his nose and leaned forward to grab the toilet paper roll with the other. Skwisgaar, still irritated at having been distracted, snatched the white board marker from between them and tossed it across the room. “Hey!” Toki protested, his voice muffled against the tissues.

As he scrambled after it Skwisgaar seized the opportunity to try again, this time with the added advantage of not having a distracting Norwegian beside him. By this point Pickles looked like he was about to catch up and maybe even surpass Skwisgaar’s score. Probing his left nostril with the hairpin, he fell back against the couch dramatically, his eyes sliding closed and his nostrils flaring slightly as he drew in an audible gasp. “Heehh… hnxgsh’shhoo!” He snapped forward, directing the half-stifles openly at the floor, his dreads swinging every time his small body shook with each sneeze. “Khgnxshoo! Ehh… ehhnxgtchoo!”

Murderface was quick on his heels with a messy “Ahffschmff!” that he had fortunately enough had the foresight to prepare for with tissues.

As he blew his nose noisily Nathan’s body shook beside him with a series of massive, shivering breaths, his head tilting back and his nostrils flaring wildly. “Huuuhhh… hh’huhhhh… huhhrrASCHHHHuuh! HRAHSCHHHHuuuhh!”

“Stops it!” Toki and Skwisgaar cried in unison, the former still fumbling to find the marker and keep score while the latter was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on his own sneezing with all these distractions.

“Don’t be a shore losher, Shkwishgaar.”

“I ain’ts losings!” he replied indignantly, indicating the scores on the whiteboard with a sweeping gesture.

“Not to Murderface, maybe, but I definitely have more’n you.”

Skwisgaar once again pointed at the whiteboard, prompting a vicious reply from the drummer. “Dood, you know I jus’ got three more!”

“I got one too!” Murderface piped in, not wanting his solitary contribution to be forgotten.

“I don’ts thinks it was three, Pickle,” Skwisgaar replied, completely disregarding the bassist, as usual.

“Dood, c’mahn, it’s not fun if you cheat!”

The moment Toki returned to his post with the marker he had four voices shouting at him at once.

“Don’t listen ta Skwisgaar, I gaht three!”

“He gots two!”

“I got two. Pickles got three.”

“Hey, don’t forget me, I got one too!”

Toki struggled to reconcile what he had heard with what he was being told. He was pretty sure Pickles had gotten three, and even if he hadn’t he wasn’t going to listen to the lead guitarist anyway. Murderface had sneezed once, and he’d definitely heard the two from Nathan. “Okays,” Toki said, sitting back to look at the whiteboard and tapping the end of the uncapped marker against his chin. “Lets me sees if I gets it all. Nathans gots two, and Pihh… Pickle gots…”

He tried to continue on through the sudden tickle, but it was no use. Eyelashes fluttering, he ducked his head between his shoulders and sneezed down openly at his lap. “Hh’kshhahh! Hh… hihhKSHH!”

“Gesundheit,” Pickles said, tilting his head when he realized Toki hadn’t been tickling his nose with his hairpin. “Those came outta nowhere.”

“I thinks dis marker ams m-makes…” He trailed off for a few seconds, sniffling helplessly. “M-makings me… hihh…”

“Do those count?” Nathan inquired, glancing towards Pickles and pointedly ignoring Skwisgaar, who was shaking his head.

It was Pickles who had proposed the contest in the first place, so as far as the front man was concerned the rules of the game were all up to him. “All I said was it’s a sneezing contest,” Pickles said. “I don’t care how they heappen. Doesn’t hafta be from the hairpin.”

Toki, whose breath had been hitching throughout the discussion, finally snapped forward with a satisfied-sounding “Ihktchhiew!”

“Three fer you, Toki.”

Giving Pickles a slightly dazed smile, the rhythm guitarist reached up to add three tallies to his score. Skwisgaar threw his hairpin on the ground and stormed out of the room silently. Nathan was still taking a moment to process what Pickles had said, but after a moment he too threw down his hairpin and got to his feet. “Fuck that shit, then, I’m getting some pepper.”

---

Edited October 29, 2011 by AnonyMouse

[AppleBlossom]

Yay! Updation!! Omg! I am loving this fiction!!

[March Hare]

This is THE funniest idea EVER. I love it! It's brilliant! You're fantastic! The way you write the Metalocalypse characters has me in stitches every effing time. Seriously. Also it makes my pants happy.

Hurrah! I think I know who's going to win...

[Masking]

Yay, more sneezes from Dethklok! :clap: <-- THAT is what I think of that.

[NameTaken]

Omg. T-that tally chart. It's so precioussss... I'm loving this so much, it's ridiculous.

Pickles. Unf. Unfff. I just- agh. So hot, in fact all of them, inducing with hair pins. Aghhh. They really do work well, haha. And Toki and the marker is just so cute. It's all cute, dammit!

I really hope Skwis comes back. And that ending leaves me so on edge. Nathannn...

Omg, I just noticed the PR club thingy- even with Toki's name crossed out. Hahaha, Anonymouse, let me love you! :'D

Edited October 30, 2011 by NameTaken

[Anonymouse]

AAHH thanks for the comments guys! Guess who’s been working on this fic more than her thesis paper. Ah, well…

Since Maru-Chan thinks she has an idea of who might win, I think I might actually start taking bets. I do already know who’s going to win, even if I don’t know where I’m going with the rest of this. So it might be interesting to have a contest within a contest. Whoever guesses correctly will get a small fetishy drawing or story from me, if they want.

PART CUATRO.

---

When they followed Nathan into the kitchen they were surprised to find Skwisgaar there as well. He was sitting in a stool at the counter and flicking a twisted paper towel around his nostrils delicately, his brow furrowed with concentration as if he were performing a very precise operation. As they shuffled in he glanced up and groaned, rolling his eyes. “Why’re ya doin’ that in here?” Pickles asked.

“Why are you doing that at all?” Nathan added. “It makes you look like a fucking dumbass.”

“Because you ams all distrahhh… distracteds me…” He paused to give an irritated sniff, tossing the paper towel aside. “And now you does it again.”

“Well dood, they don’t count unless they rest of us hear ‘em.”

Skwisgaar sniffled again, his nostrils flaring slightly. Pickles continued to speak but the Swede held up a hand to stop him, his lips parting slowly as his eyelashes fluttered. Everyone kept completely silent. If they interrupted another one of his attempts at sneezing the guitarist would throw a huge diva fit for sure. “Hihh…”

CRASH.

Everyone spun to face the kitchen door, including Skwisgaar, who was glaring daggers out into the hallway where Toki was sprawled on the floor, crushed underneath the massive whiteboard he’d been attempting to drag to the kitchen. “Way to go, Toki!” Murderface chastised, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Thish is why we can’t have nische thingsh.”

Grumbling to himself about needing a drink, he went over to one of the cabinets, pulled out a diamond-encrusted goblet, and helped himself to some of Pickles’ $5000 whiskey. Nathan merely folded his arms and frowned at the rhythm guitarist. “Why’d you try to bring that here all by yourself?”

“I asksed for helps but nobodies listens,” Toki wheezed, pushing the board off himself as the rest of them just stood around watching, Skwisgaar back to brooding silently in the corner of the kitchen.

The front man lifted the board off the ground and set it up against the wall, stepping back to observe the scores. Toki continued to lie on the ground, loudly insisting that he was fine, though nobody was paying attention anyway.

“Shit, I’m way behind,” Nathan observed, eyeing the tally marks under his name. “I had an idea though… fuck, what was it…”

Smirking, Pickles picked up the pepper shaker and shook it so that the little black grains clinked around inside the glass. Oblivious to the hint, Nathan continued to scrutinize the whiteboard. Skwisgaar let out a disdainful scoff. “Pffft. Peppers? Dat ams only works in de cartoons.”

“Wanna bet?” Pickles challenged, grinding some out onto the kitchen counter. “This shit fuckin’ burns.”

“How ams you knows dat?”

“Snorted some once by accident. Though it was black tar heeroin.”

Toki, who finally got up off his ass to join the group around the counter, wrinkled his nose in sympathy. Skwisgaar merely shook his head and went back to probing his nostril with his paper towel, turning away from the rest of them so he could concentrate.

“That’s what I came here for,” Nathan realized after a moment, pointing to the pepper, but now that he knew what he came for he didn’t seem so sure. “You said it burns?”

“Like hell,” Pickles said, nodding. “Made me sneeze a few times, but I don’t think it’s worth it, personally.”

Nathan turned to the bassist, who was off across the room filling his chalice to the brim with some more outrageously expensive whiskey. “Murderface, you try it.”

“Try what?”

“That,” he said, pointing to the pepper. “Snort it.”

He shrugged and stumbled over, drunk enough to oblige. Toki got his marker ready, watching as Murderface bent over the counter and snorted up the pepper like it was a line of black cocaine. At once he recoiled, clasping his hands over his face and mumbling incoherently.

The guys laughed, even Skwisgaar, who never missed an opportunity to join in on making a mockery of Murderface. The bassist pawed at his nose, shaking his head slightly as he tried to rid himself of the irritating sensation. “Shit, you m-motherfucker, why’d you make me do that?” he griped, inciting another bout of laughter from Nathan.

“I didn’t make you do anything.”

“Fuck you, you shmuhh… shmug assh… ahh… ahh’HHFSCHH!” He dropped his hands to his sides and snapped forward, his body bending in half as he directed the sneezes at the tiled floor. “Ehhhfschh! Ehh… hehh…” He leaned back, his chest swelling with each desperate inhalation, before the next sneeze sent him wrenching forward once more. “Hh’ahffschuhh! Hehh… hhihhffschh! Hehhh… hh’ahfschh!”

Toki waited to see if there would be more. When a few sneezeless moments passed he applauded, then uncapped the marker and scrawled some tallies under Murderface’s name. “Fives for Moidaface!”

The bassist, whose eyes were watering so badly it looked like he just got finished watching Sophie’s Choice or Grave of the Fireflies or some other terribly depressing movie I haven’t seen yet because I’m scared of how terribly depressing it might be, gave a slight nod when he saw that he was now tied with Skwisgaar for second place. “Worth it,” he said, sniffling harshly.

Pickles helped himself to Murderface’s goblet and some of his own whiskey as he watched Nathan debate whether or not to snort some pepper. By this point he seemed more content with watching than participating. “Goin’ for it, big guy?”

“Think so… give me that… the thing…”

One large finger pointed towards the pepper grinder and Pickles passed it over. The front man took one look at it before smashing it open and dumping a gratuitous amount of pepper out onto the counter. “Dood, I don’t think that’s how yer s’posed ta do dat,” Pickles pointed out, but Nathan ignored him, trying to sweep the pile into a snortable line and sending up small dark clouds in the process.

Toki, who was standing the closest to Nathan, took a few steps back and pressed his knuckles against his nose, sniffling. “I think dat ams a l-lots, Nate’n…”

Ignoring the guitarist’s comment, the singer stooped over the pepper and pinched one nostril closed, snorting a line with the other. Everyone watched with bated breath as he straightened up calmly, blinking. He glanced down at the pepper that remained on the counter with a contemplative look. “Huh. Brutal.”

If anyone could snort a shit ton of pepper and keep a straight face, it was Dethklok front man Nathan Explosion.

Murderface folded his arms. “How isch that not fucking schcalding your insh-”

“W-wait… there it goes…” He gasped breathily, his chest rising with air. “Hh’uhhh… f-fuck, yeah, that real… – huhh… - really fuckin’ tihh… tihihhckles…”

Nostrils flaring wildly like a raging bull, he tilted his head back and drew in a massive breath, letting it out heavily before his body expanded with an even bigger breath. “Huhhh… huuuhhh!…”

“Oh shit,” Pickles exclaimed, realizing too late what was about to happen.

“HuhhRAHSCHHahh!”

Nathan directed the explosion at the counter, sending the pepper flying in every direction like a swarm of the Wicked Witch of the West’s evil flying monkeys. The grains settled on their clothing and hair, and Pickles frowned into his goblet. “Y’got pepper in my whiskey, ya douschebeag.”

Apparently he’d gotten some in his nose, too, because after this accusation he gave an irritated sniffle, his expression crumpling slightly. “S-sahhh… sorry,” Nathan managed through hitching breaths, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring to the size of caverns. “F-fuhh… huhASKCHHHahh! HRUHSCHHHAHH!”

Learning from his earlier mistake, he covered his nose to avoid blasting pepper around the room again, but the damage had been done. His fellow band mates were already in various stages of sneeziness. Placing the goblet shakily and haphazardly on the edge of the counter, Pickles leaned forward and scrunched his eyes closed, covering his face with both hands. “Hhnxgshoo! Ihngxt’shoo! Hh… ishoo! Ehschoo!”

Skwisgaar, who had been so desperately trying to sneeze, was now actively trying to resist the urge. The burn was unholy, and he wriggled his nose around, rubbing it with his fist, but to no avail. Eventually he succumbed, his shoulders tensing up as he pitched forward, nearly falling off his stool. “Hhghsshuuh! HhISHHHehh! Hihh… ihh… hh’KSHHHHuuhh!”

Even Murderface wasn’t immune to the sinister little granules he had faced on his own only moments before. “Ahhschhff!” Blinded by tears, he reached out clumsily to grab at the roll of paper towels, tearing a few sheets off and burying his face in them. “Hhsshffhh!”

The scorekeeper struggled to record all the sneezes in the midst of his own fit. “Shits, w-was that three… – heehh… hihhKSSHHuu! Hh’KSCHHahh!”

Trying to brush away the grains of pepper that had settled in his fu manchu, Toki scrawled sloppy tally marks under everyone’s names. It was getting harder and harder to decipher between who was sneezing and how many times, but when everyone finally calmed down and wiped their eyes and noses and got a chance to look at the scoreboard, there were no complaints. The scores were closer than they had been all night. Skwisgaar and Pickles were tied for first, with Nathan, Toki, and Murderface only a handful of sneezes behind. They looked around at each other, their eyes red and watery. This shit was starting to get real.

Despite how well the pepper worked, they all made a mutual agreement to never fucking do that again.

Edited November 1, 2011 by AnonyMouse

[AppleBlossom]

OH MY-- HOLY--! Agjixgxdn! *dies*

More.. dear god please MORE!!

[Masking]

DETHSNEEZES. So many Dethsneezes! And they're all hot - even Murderface's. *hugs him*

[TwitchNose]

This story is so much like an actual episode of the show! Those crazy Dethklok boys would so do something like this, and I am just loving the competition between them. Please continue!

[Akahana]

I haven't watched this show since I was at least like,11 years old and I still love this!!! Toki is so cute!! <3

[NameTaken]

...

I'm so very in love right now. Dear God. Just so, so hot and creative. Wow wow wowww.

Also, I have no clue who's going to win. No clue whatsoever, I'm sorry! It's either one of the really obvious ones, or someone you'd least expect...either way, this fic is so amazing I wouldn't mind if it was Murderface even.

Psst. Good luck on your paper. I'll be waiting here. Impatiently.

[Da Greenz Yo]

T____T;; why is this so cute and funny and freaking awesome?! uhuuu, I love all of your writings

[inactiveaccount]

Even though I've never seen the show I'm thoroughly enjoying this. Ohhh... am I.

This last scene with the pepper was just so LKJADFAD;LK AALD. PERFECT. I was fangirling and giggling the whole time it was unreal. xD

More!

[Anonymouse]

Thanks again for the comments! I really enjoy reading them and I'm happy to see that so many people like it. Sorry I haven't updated much of my stuff in a while, things are hectic (as always) but I took a moment today to write this next chapter (mostly because I saw somewhere that NameTaken was bummed out, so hopefully this makes her a little happier? But also because I really miss writing about these guys). PLOT TWISTS ARE COMING IN...

PART CINCO!

---

On the way back to the rec room the guitarists broke away from the group, bickering to one another in hushed tones. They began to move quickly down the hallway, pushing each other like a couple of catty teenage girls. Skwisgaar managed to knock Toki to the ground, causing him to scrape his face and elbow against the floor, before sprinting out the front entrance. The others took a moment to properly acknowledge Toki’s injuries with a round of hearty laughter before continuing on to the rec room.

“What was theat about?”

“Who knowsch,” Murderface replied, shrugging as he settled on the couch. “Thosche two are alwaysch up to shumthin’ weird.”

Nathan grunted in agreement, picking up his hairpin. “Back to the fucking drawing board,” he said, beginning to probe around in his right nostril. Just as it began to flare he stopped, looking at the empty loveseat with alarm. He leaned over to peer out into the hallway, but it appeared as if Toki had gotten up and left. “Fuck, our scorekeeper’s not here.”

“I brought the board,” Pickles said, also holding up the marker he’d grabbed after Toki abandoned it and the board in the hallway. “I’ll jes’ do it. Without him and Skwis here we all gaht more of a cheance to win. Their sneezes don’t count if they’re not here, right?”

The other two shrugged and nodded. It seemed fair enough. Sure, Skwisgaar would probably throw a bitch fit if they didn’t count his sneezes and Toki would do that annoying whining thing, but it was Pickles’ idea in the first place. It should be up to him what did and didn’t count.

Having reached a consensus Nathan returned the hairpin to quivering nostril. His nose was starting to react now at just the sight of the hairpin. It was like his body was learning what to expect. Sometimes he thought his body was smarter than he was.

“Huuhh… hh’huhhh… huhhrrASCHHUUuuh!”

He directed the sneeze down at his lap. It was so wet he could feel the spray against his legs, even through the fabric of his jeans. Snuffling, he pressed the back of his large hand against his nose, feeling it starting to run against his skin. “Fuck, I deed a tissue.”

Pickles added a tally under Nathan’s name before passing the box to him. He grabbed it and pulled out a few tissues just in time to catch another massive “HH’ASCHHHUUUAHH!” that nearly tore the tissues in his hands asunder.

His sneezes seemed to shake the very foundation of the haus, and Pickles and Murderface were so enthralled by the display that they set their own hairpins aside and just watched as Nathan built up to yet another mammoth sneeze. The tissues fluttered as he breathed in and out slowly, deeply, his chest swelling as his lungs filled with air. “Hh’hh’hhuhhh…”

His dark eyebrows twitched upward and he tilted his head back slightly, giving his band mates a full view of his distended nostrils. He stayed frozen like that for a moment, everything still except his fluttering eyelashes, before wrenching forward into the crumpled tissues with a satisfying-sounding “HHRUHSCHHHHHHahh!”

“Fuck,” Murderface muttered, sounding impressed.

Squeezing his eyes shut the front man hunched over, blowing his nose loudly into the dissolving tissues. “Fuck,” he repeated, letting the drenched wad fall to the floor by his feet. He sniffled and sat back, an uncharacteristically contemplative look on his face. “That felt kinda awesome.”

Suddenly one of the many widescreen televisions that had been affixed to the walls around the rec room fell, smashing to pieces as it slammed to the floor. The three men stared at the wreckage for a moment, stunned, before Nathan whirled back around to face Pickles. “Dude, you should give me a bonus point for that.”

Pickles looked tempted but he shook his head fervently. As awesome as that was, he was still in this contest too, and he’d be damned if he lost because Nathan got an extra tally. “Nope.”

“Aw, come on.”

“Nope.”

There was another loud sound at the door and they all jumped again, still shaken up from the falling television, but all that came crashing through the doorway was a pair of Scandinavians. They each had an armful of flowers, which they deposited on the coffee table, bitching at each the whole time. Listening to them argue in their respective languages was like trying to translate an intercepted Martian radio signal.

“Whatcha got there?” Pickles inquired, leaning forward curiously.

Toki tried to answer but he seemed to be having some difficulty. His face screwed up with obvious irritation before he whirled away from the group, sneezing openly and fiercely at the floor. “Ehhptchahh! Hhh’EHFSCHHahh!”

Pickles, not quite used to his scorekeeper duties yet, scrambled to uncap the marker and record the sneezes.

“Why’s you always gots to copy me?” Skwisgaar griped. “Dis was my ideas.”

“I was m-my idee-… heeh… hh’ahhptschoo! Ahptchhahh! – by ideas first!”

Skwisgaar glanced at the board, bristling with indignation when he saw that he and Toki were now tied. “I sneezes like twenty times outsides!” he insisted, but Pickles merely shook his head.

“Nope. Don’t count.”

Skwisgaar’s jaw dropped. “Why nots?!”

The redhead smirked. It was fun being a withholding bastard. “Those are the rules.”

“Fucks you’s rules,” the Swede spat back, bristling. He could hear Toki’s breath hitching beside him and he spun around, giving the rhythm guitarist a threatening glare. “Don’ts you dares.”

For a moment Toki looked scared, but his fearful expression quickly crumpled into one of discomfort.

Skwisgaar scowled warningly. “Stops it.”

“I c-cahh… can’t, Skwisgaar…”

The Swede maintained his disapproving expression, hoping to intimidate the sneeze away, but his Jedi mind tricks held no sway over Toki, who eventually succumbed to the urge. Taking a couple steps back, he sneezed openly between them. “Hh’ehpffschahh! Hh’ihh’EHFSCHahh!”

Immediately his hands flew up to cup his nose and Nathan passed him the tissue box knowingly. Toki accepted it with a small sound of gratitude, turning away from them so he could have some privacy, but gasped when he saw a robed figure in the doorway. The others glanced over in alarm, eyes widening when they saw who it was.

“What od Earth are you boys doihg?”

Oh shit. They’d woken Charles up.

Edited December 7, 2011 by AnonyMouse