1349 III
Part Three of 1349:
The battle with the Liberals had been over only a few hours when 1349, growing exhausted from lack of sleep, were confronted with yet another attack. Assorted members of the Michigan Militia laid down a supressing fire with their illegally-purchased assault rifles, forcing 1349 to take cover behind their amps... then the earth began to shake. Looming before them, being goaded on by a team of handlers with chains and pikes, came a beast from the darkest corner of Bush's empire. It was huge... drooling... furry.
"What is it?" Ravn asked.
"It may have been normal once..." said Frost. "Now its body has been bloated and distended beyond all natural recognizability by American food. Once these creatures were fed the minimum of nutrition for such a beast, but now their owners give them more and more-expensive food than what 98% of the world's humans receive. But it is mortal! We shall triumph over this new horror!"
The huge beast waddled slowly towards them, stopping occasionally to scratch itself or whine at the handlers. At one point a small animal darted over a nearby mountainside and the creature, its fat tongue hanging out, tried to chase it and crushed one of the handlers to death, but ran out of breath after two or three bounds. It then resumed its glacial advance towards the Norwegians.
Archaon stepped forward, guitar raised. An average black metal riff would do little more than scratch such a monster. No... this demanded precision. He took a deep breath... concentrated... and played the first minute or so of "Blood is the Mortar". A razor-thin lightning bolt leapt from his guitar, straighter than the Russian bullets fired by the Michigan Militia, and pierced through the beast's eye. It grunted and slumped over, dead. The Americans all cried at once, "Awww!" Then they were scattered as the remainder of the band joined in playing the rest of the song.
Later that day, Bjorn spotted a swarm of American dump trucks circling around the ridge, emptying huge piles of garbage into the valley behind them. "Shit!" he said. "Their candy wrappers, disposable cameras, and empty bottles of Axe Body Spray will soon form a pathway by which they can attack us from the rear! I must warn the others!" And he did.
"We will be overwhelmed, but we have no choice." said Frost. "We must never retreat nor surrender, or else everyone in Norway will gain 50 kilos. Bandmates... a new age is beginning. An age of Thinness! If we should die here tomorrow, the world will know that a small band of people would not succumb to beer guts, love handles, thunder thighs, moobs, and multiple chins. Bjorn... go! Tell the people of Norway what has happened here. And rally the other black metal bands! You are now the bassist in Shining and you get drunk with Roger Nattefrost a fair amount. If the Americans should defeat us, then let us inflict enough losses on them that a second line of defense will force them all the way back to suburbia!"
Bjorn nodded gravely. He grapsed hands with his temporary/touring bandmates, and then he was off, down into the valley. A few Americans tried to follow him, but as soon as they reached the far side of the valley and had to go uphill without an elevator, they had heart attacks and died.
Darkness began to creep over the mountains of Norway as trash in the valley piled up high enough to walk across. A huge mass of Americans gathered - Bush would be flinging almost his entire army at them at once, from the front, and from the rear would come a force of Liberals accompanied by a few fat people used as human shields. 1349 would, at last, be defeated.
"Eat, men, even though as non-Americans we don't do such things very often," said Frost, "for tonight, we dine in Hellfire!"
Back in Oslo, Bjorn arrived to see Prime Minister Vikernes holding a press conference.
"Drunken metalheads continue to ruin our culture with their non-Aryan behavior." the Prime Minister said to the assembled journalists and bureaucrats. "In light of this fact, and the fact that censorship is less frowned on in Europe than in the U.S., I propose a ban on all metal except Burzum and mandatory detention camps for musicians who use things other than synthesizers. It is the obnoxiousness of metal that has brought the Americans' wrath down upon us. Soon the Americans will start forcing us to breed with people with brown eyes as part of their campaign of multiculturalism, not to mention forcing Evangelical Christianity upon -"
"Hey!" Bjorn shouted.
Everyone turned and looked at him.
"Has anyone seen Roger Nattefrost?" he asked.
"Wretched metallist!" Vikernes squealed, running towards Bjorn, his pigtails flapping gaily in the breeze. "Arrest this man! Odin will -" Bjorn punched him in the face and he fell unconscious immediately, a wad of American $20 bills spilling out of his pocket. He was subsequently convicted of treason and sentenced to Norway's harshest criminal penalty - two months of community service.
Bjorn then found Nattefrost in a porno shop and began rallying the second line of defense.
Meanwhile, back at the Sognefjord, the final battle had begun. Thousands of Americans attacked 1349 simultaneously, but the band had begun playing "Chasing Dragons" and laid waste to hundreds. But the band had run out of alcohol a day ago, and their strength was flagging. Finally a middle-aged housewife succeeded in sitting on their amps, and then the Liberals took their weapons away, holding bladed peace signs to their throats.
The giant litter appeared once more and President Jeb Bush stood towering over the band, smirking his family's ancestral smirk. "I done warned y'all." he said. "Hasta la vista! Nothing is over! Today, we celebrate our Independence Day!"
Frost's vision narrowed. The Liberals had taken away all his hidden weapons, since they had no problem frisking his crotch. But not everything had occurred to them. He took a step forward, unfastening the belt buckle, his eyes fixated on the strutting figure upon the litter before him. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Uttering a final bestial war-cry, Frost dropped his pants.
"NOOOOOO!" Bush screamed. "Ain't no one got a bigger cock than a Bush! No one! IT CAN'T BE!" He fell down in a delirium, barely managing to utter with a choking gasp, "Kill them!"
NRA members opened fire, suburbanites lashed out with their cuisinarts, Liberals hurled bladed Michael Moore DVDs, and 1349 fell. As he lay dying, Frost could only think of how proud he was of his son, who, when last he saw him, had drinken two-thirds of a bottle of Jack Daniels without vomiting.
So it was that Bjorn succeeded in rallying Carpathian Forest as well as Shining, even though the latter band is based in Sweden, and Maniac joined in as well, since it's not like he had anything better to do. At a battle near Lillehammer the black metallers routed the remainder of the American horde, which retreated, despite the President's speeches in which he just kept saying the same things over and over again, and Norway remained a thin country.
REMEMBER. REMEMBER 1349!
The End.
I'm also going to x-post the entire thing to
metal_community.
The battle with the Liberals had been over only a few hours when 1349, growing exhausted from lack of sleep, were confronted with yet another attack. Assorted members of the Michigan Militia laid down a supressing fire with their illegally-purchased assault rifles, forcing 1349 to take cover behind their amps... then the earth began to shake. Looming before them, being goaded on by a team of handlers with chains and pikes, came a beast from the darkest corner of Bush's empire. It was huge... drooling... furry.
"What is it?" Ravn asked.
"It may have been normal once..." said Frost. "Now its body has been bloated and distended beyond all natural recognizability by American food. Once these creatures were fed the minimum of nutrition for such a beast, but now their owners give them more and more-expensive food than what 98% of the world's humans receive. But it is mortal! We shall triumph over this new horror!"
The huge beast waddled slowly towards them, stopping occasionally to scratch itself or whine at the handlers. At one point a small animal darted over a nearby mountainside and the creature, its fat tongue hanging out, tried to chase it and crushed one of the handlers to death, but ran out of breath after two or three bounds. It then resumed its glacial advance towards the Norwegians.
Archaon stepped forward, guitar raised. An average black metal riff would do little more than scratch such a monster. No... this demanded precision. He took a deep breath... concentrated... and played the first minute or so of "Blood is the Mortar". A razor-thin lightning bolt leapt from his guitar, straighter than the Russian bullets fired by the Michigan Militia, and pierced through the beast's eye. It grunted and slumped over, dead. The Americans all cried at once, "Awww!" Then they were scattered as the remainder of the band joined in playing the rest of the song.
Later that day, Bjorn spotted a swarm of American dump trucks circling around the ridge, emptying huge piles of garbage into the valley behind them. "Shit!" he said. "Their candy wrappers, disposable cameras, and empty bottles of Axe Body Spray will soon form a pathway by which they can attack us from the rear! I must warn the others!" And he did.
"We will be overwhelmed, but we have no choice." said Frost. "We must never retreat nor surrender, or else everyone in Norway will gain 50 kilos. Bandmates... a new age is beginning. An age of Thinness! If we should die here tomorrow, the world will know that a small band of people would not succumb to beer guts, love handles, thunder thighs, moobs, and multiple chins. Bjorn... go! Tell the people of Norway what has happened here. And rally the other black metal bands! You are now the bassist in Shining and you get drunk with Roger Nattefrost a fair amount. If the Americans should defeat us, then let us inflict enough losses on them that a second line of defense will force them all the way back to suburbia!"
Bjorn nodded gravely. He grapsed hands with his temporary/touring bandmates, and then he was off, down into the valley. A few Americans tried to follow him, but as soon as they reached the far side of the valley and had to go uphill without an elevator, they had heart attacks and died.
Darkness began to creep over the mountains of Norway as trash in the valley piled up high enough to walk across. A huge mass of Americans gathered - Bush would be flinging almost his entire army at them at once, from the front, and from the rear would come a force of Liberals accompanied by a few fat people used as human shields. 1349 would, at last, be defeated.
"Eat, men, even though as non-Americans we don't do such things very often," said Frost, "for tonight, we dine in Hellfire!"
Back in Oslo, Bjorn arrived to see Prime Minister Vikernes holding a press conference.
"Drunken metalheads continue to ruin our culture with their non-Aryan behavior." the Prime Minister said to the assembled journalists and bureaucrats. "In light of this fact, and the fact that censorship is less frowned on in Europe than in the U.S., I propose a ban on all metal except Burzum and mandatory detention camps for musicians who use things other than synthesizers. It is the obnoxiousness of metal that has brought the Americans' wrath down upon us. Soon the Americans will start forcing us to breed with people with brown eyes as part of their campaign of multiculturalism, not to mention forcing Evangelical Christianity upon -"
"Hey!" Bjorn shouted.
Everyone turned and looked at him.
"Has anyone seen Roger Nattefrost?" he asked.
"Wretched metallist!" Vikernes squealed, running towards Bjorn, his pigtails flapping gaily in the breeze. "Arrest this man! Odin will -" Bjorn punched him in the face and he fell unconscious immediately, a wad of American $20 bills spilling out of his pocket. He was subsequently convicted of treason and sentenced to Norway's harshest criminal penalty - two months of community service.
Bjorn then found Nattefrost in a porno shop and began rallying the second line of defense.
Meanwhile, back at the Sognefjord, the final battle had begun. Thousands of Americans attacked 1349 simultaneously, but the band had begun playing "Chasing Dragons" and laid waste to hundreds. But the band had run out of alcohol a day ago, and their strength was flagging. Finally a middle-aged housewife succeeded in sitting on their amps, and then the Liberals took their weapons away, holding bladed peace signs to their throats.
The giant litter appeared once more and President Jeb Bush stood towering over the band, smirking his family's ancestral smirk. "I done warned y'all." he said. "Hasta la vista! Nothing is over! Today, we celebrate our Independence Day!"
Frost's vision narrowed. The Liberals had taken away all his hidden weapons, since they had no problem frisking his crotch. But not everything had occurred to them. He took a step forward, unfastening the belt buckle, his eyes fixated on the strutting figure upon the litter before him. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Uttering a final bestial war-cry, Frost dropped his pants.
"NOOOOOO!" Bush screamed. "Ain't no one got a bigger cock than a Bush! No one! IT CAN'T BE!" He fell down in a delirium, barely managing to utter with a choking gasp, "Kill them!"
NRA members opened fire, suburbanites lashed out with their cuisinarts, Liberals hurled bladed Michael Moore DVDs, and 1349 fell. As he lay dying, Frost could only think of how proud he was of his son, who, when last he saw him, had drinken two-thirds of a bottle of Jack Daniels without vomiting.
So it was that Bjorn succeeded in rallying Carpathian Forest as well as Shining, even though the latter band is based in Sweden, and Maniac joined in as well, since it's not like he had anything better to do. At a battle near Lillehammer the black metallers routed the remainder of the American horde, which retreated, despite the President's speeches in which he just kept saying the same things over and over again, and Norway remained a thin country.
REMEMBER. REMEMBER 1349!
The End.
I'm also going to x-post the entire thing to
metal_community.