Posted 21 February 2012 - 09:14 PM
On a brisk, February night after the seventh failed performance of the Death Klowns in the King's Castle casino in Las Vegas, the lead guitarist Frankie Firecracker and bassist Chugs Mckill meet backstage in the musty stage room. "Frankie, man this seems beyond stupid, this is just plain insane man," Chugs remarked. "Oh Chugs you ignorant fool, this isn't about risk, or about reward," Frankie announced. "I've seen Metalacolypse, I know how we're suppose to be."
"We aint Death Klok though, we're the Death Klowns," Chugs reiterated. "You think I don't know that?," Frankie smacked Chugs away. "We're about to pull the biggest practical joke in history." "And the best part is, nobody will ever know we did it," Frankie added. Stepping in back of room, Frankie pushed an old, rusty cart back up to the front of the room. Frankie then walked back up to the front of the room, grabbing a hard shelled like object from the cart.
"This is a Graboid egg," Frankie smiled. "I have at least twenty more of these suckers, but I figure a mere ten will be enough to get this job done." "What job?," Chugs asked. "We're going to destroy Las Vegas," Frankie smiled. "And these sand worms are going to help us do it." "Frankie," Chugs grabbed his camo jacket's sleeve as Frankie put the egg down.
"That's terrorism." "Uh..., duh," Frankie rolled his eyes. "No way," Chugs muttered. "No way man," Chugs took a few steps back out of fear. "We can't do that, we...we can't." "Look we have to do this," Frankie replied. "If we don't the people will never take us seriously." "Vandalism, graffiti, mailbox baseball, stink bombs, any of that I'm with you," Chugs stated. "But this, this is just far from being on the grid of decency." Frankie pulled out an ace card from under his sleeve.
Flicking the card a couple of times, a flashing light appeared and Chugs fell to the ground in a pool of crimson blood. "No one calls me indecent," Frankie blew the smoke off of the card. "You just can't find good help these days." Picking up the egg once again, Frankie looked at the squirming, gray, little creature within the jelly pouch of the egg. Meanwhile Antonio Rodriguez, or better know as Armadillo, was heading to Vegas thorough an old lady's casino bus.
"If I can find a way to extract all the money out of these high rollers, and rich fruitcakes, I might just be lucky enough to collect enough money for my operation," he muttered. Stepping off the casino bus, Armadillo took his first breath of the glitzy Vegas air. "The city where money flows like rivers," he remarked. "Surely there'll be enough in one of these dumps to bust open the walnut on my back." Armadillo began his gambling at casino after casino, from Caesar's Palace, to Bandit's Way, to Klonko the Clown's Circus Dome, but at each place, either the hands he got were bad, the dice spontaneously rolled into zeros and negatives, or he got all lemons and no cherries on the slots, but whatever the case Armadillo's luck was pitiful.
Finally stepping out of Castile's Buckingham Palace, Armadillo turned around to notice a dirt mark slightly above his tail. "Damn it." he sighed as he collapsed onto a colorful neon bench. "This must be the Devil's town, because no matter where I go..."
"Everything I touch turns into shit." Struggling to close his eyes, Armadillo managed to moan himself to sleep that night. Towards the middle of the night, Frankie arrived in Vegas, and started placing the eggs in high traffic areas. "The gates of hell will never have seen the amount of slaughter that'll happen here tomorrow," Frankie smirked to himself.
Stopping for a second, Frankie pulled out a small trinket from his pocket. "We were like brothers once Chugs," Frankie announced. "Then you had to go and become all lame on me." "At least you died with some honor." Flicking the trinket into the newly dug Graboid hole, Frankie gave the object a two finger salute and walked away.
On his way into the desert, Frankie pressed the red button on a model detonator. Waking up the next morning to a heavy amount of screams, Armadillo barely opened his eyes fully, before a funnel like creature grabbed him in it's soft tissued jaw.
"Not even the patience to let a man get a cup of coffee in the morning," Armadillo commented in frustration. Splitting the Graboid open through it's head, Armadillo rolled into fighting position as he hit the ground. Despite the attack, the worm continued to not only move, but also call the nine other worms that were loose in the city. "Fun," Armadillo remarked as he readied his claws.