There Are Ways of Telling . . .
Title: There Are Ways of Telling
Fandom: Metalocalypse
Pairings: Mentioned Toki/OC, Uber-mild Charles/Nathan
Rating: Crack
Summary: Murderface is suspicious of Toki's new girlfriend.
Charles Ofdensen stared at the bass player standing before his desk. Nathan and Pickles stood behind him; whether there for support or just to watch the fireworks would remain to be seen.
“Excuse me?” he said politely.
“Toki’sh girlfriend ish a witch!” Murderface cried.
“I’m sorry if you don’t like her, William, but-“
“No, no, I don’t mean her attitude! I mean she’sh real witch! An actual one!” The bass player threw down an ancient book that was probably of incalcuable worth. “It shays here that witchesh can be identified by ‘Shatan’sh marksh’ on their body that won’t bleed. Those creepy extra fingersh of hersh? She papercut one, but it never bled! She’sh a witch!”
Charles stared at Murderface for a long moment.
“So . . . . you’re ready to condemn her over a deformity and a shallow papercut?”
“Dood, those extra fingers, they’re pretty fuckin’ creepy. I’m just sayin’,” Pickles offered.
“Um . . . wouldn’t it be metal to be fucking a witch?” Nathan asked. “Those fingers are weird though. I don’t know how Toki stands it.”
“Oooooooh Gahd! Don’t say anything else; I’m tryin’ naht to picture it!” Pickles wailed, pressing his fingers over his eyes.
“Good going, Nathan! Now all I can picture is twelve fingersh wrapped around Toki’sh cock!”
“I said naht to say anything!!”
“How do you know what Toki’s cock looks like?” Nathan asked.
“HE- WHAT?! I didn’t -- ! You guysh are fucking with me again! Hey, Dildo!”
This was directed at Charles, who had slid his own fingers up under his glasses and was rubbing his eyes.
“What are you gonna do about her?!” Murderface demanded.
“Well,” Charles sighed. “I suppose we’ll have to see if she weighs the same as a duck.”
There was a pregnant silence.
Then, the rumbling, growling noise that was Nathan Explosion chortling.
“Dood, did you just . . . . make a joke?” Pickles questioned, starting to grin.
“What?!” Murderface snapped.
“You see, William,” Charles slipped into a flawless English accent. “There are ways of telling if she is a witch.”
“Are there?!” Nathan blurted, not quite getting the accent right.
“Tell us!” Pickles urged.
“Do they hurt?!” Nathan snarled.
“Oh very fucking funny!” Murderface sneered. “ Fuck you! And fuck you! And fuck you!” He screeched, treating everyone present to a middle finger. “You’ll shee that I’m right! You’ll all shee!”
“Yeah, he’s gotta go think about Toki’s cock some more,” the drummer sighed as Murderface stormed out.
“Fuck you, Picklesh!”
“Well, that was fun; see ya later.”
After the redhead left, Nathan stared at the band’s CFO.
“I love Monty Python!” he blurted. “Ya wanna . . . . ya wanna, like . . . . watch the Holy Grail with us tonight?”
One brown eyebrow shot up behind Charles’ glasses.
“You want me to pal around with you?”
“Yeah. I guess. If you wanna. Murderface doesn’t know all the lines, Pickles can’t do the accents, and Toki only knows them all in Norweigan. You do a really good Sir Bedevere!”
“Oh. Thank you. Yes. Yes, that sounds like fun.”
“Okay, cool. Uh . . . . . bye.”
“Good bye, Nathan. I’ll see you later.”