Hindu Hell (Mythklok, Chapter 66)
Title: Hindu Hell (Mythklok, Chapter 66)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Chasing down paperwork.
Warnings: Swearing
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Shri Brahma Vishnu Maheshwara Elias Ogoun Sen Michel: that's a lot of names. The kid is gonna need three pages in the phone book. Anyways, they need to arrange for his Naming ceremony (you thought I forgot - ha!).
This week I spend a bit of time ragging on Bollywood. This being MythKlok, you guys probably aren't gonna have any clue what's going on anyway, but in case you wanna be in on at least one silly joke: there really is a Bollywood couple named Saif and Rani. Here's a video of one of their numbers.
Bollywood has gotten a bit more relaxed, but it has traditionally been REALLY conservative, where lovers literally couldn't kiss onscreen. And one Bollywood actress actually got in trouble for kissing a guy in real life! So for some reason, the lovers almost inevitably end up getting caught in a rainstorm instead. Not sure why all the Indian actors don't have pneumonia or something.
And just to warn you so everybody isn't pissed off at me again this week, this one is the first of what's probably gonna be two parts. As a sorta general thing, I just got a new job, and they expect me to, you know, DO STUFF, so MK stuff is gonna slow down a bit. I'll still keep writing this nonsense as long as it amuses me, but there will be less of it.
Valhalla....
Auntie Raziel had sad eyes, and so Elias did what his Daddy often did when there were tears, he took his little wings out, because wings were good for sad eyes. He couldn't actually rock her, as he was too small, but he currently occupied her lap, and so was situated nice and close.
Unfortunately, Auntie Raziel seemed to function today in a counterintuitive manner (Elias was noticing that this happened sometimes, especially with female beings), and, if anything, this only seemed to increased the tear emission. His Daddy, who was also known to function in a counterintuitive manner, did not get his own wings out, but rather shook his head and held the bridge of his nose, as he was wont to do with Auntie Raziel. Fortunately, his Daddy, who was also there, employed the alternate solution of many, many arms, taken out and wrapped around the both of them, Raziel and Elias, and this finally seemed to soothe matters.
"You really want me to be his Naming sponsor?" Raziel sobbed when she was at last released from the Hindu god's many grips.
"No, we just love watching you bawl, Raziel," Charles sighed.
"It would be our honor, Lady Raziel," said Ganesh, shooting Charles an annoyed glance. "And much merited. You did, after all, coin his name."
“I never expected....” said Raziel.
"Aw, c'mon, Raziel," said Charles. "You don't believe in any of this crap either."
"It's an important responsibility," she said.
"They're scared of him, and they're scared of you, simple as that," said Charles.
"What's all the fuss and holler?" boomed Wotan, who had just stormed in.
"They want me to be Boonie's Name sponsor," sniffed Raziel.
"Well, so you're gonna be family?" said Wotan, snatching the child from his wife's lap. "Then there are a few rules you'll need to hear! First, no peanut butter near my saddle!"
"Beaner burr?" inquired Elias as they slammed out the door. Was it lunchtime already? He hoped there would be Frenchie fries.
"Have you guys picked a day yet?" Raziel asked.
"This thing is gonna be low key, Raziel,” Charles warned.
"Or, as low key as one may get with dancing elephants," smiled Ganesh.
"So you have all the paperwork filed?" Raziel asked as she dabbed at her streaking mascara with a handkerchief.
Charles and Ganesh looked at each other.
"Uh-huh. Successful executives," laughed Raziel, hitting a button on her speed dial. "Pie! How are you, dear?"
"Why is my receptionist on her speed dial?" asked Charles suspiciously.
"Did you like the book of Cherubic lyric poetry? Uh-huh,” prattled Raziel.
"They're probably all poems about sheet cake," muttered Charles.
"Would you approve if it were sonnets to pie?" Ganesh grinned.
"Maybe!"
"We were wondering, sweetie, do we have all the paperwork filed for Elias's Naming?” asked Raziel. “Can you look? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. The TK-421? I'll check into it. Goodbye, my darling!"
"Raziel, don't air kiss my receptionist!" Charles told her.
"Why not?" she said, hanging up.
"He's a former Green Beret! It's undignified!"
"Anyway, forget Cherubs, we have a paperwork hangup on the multi-limbed side of the family," said Raziel, pointing to Ganesh, who had already extracted an elegant cell phone from a jacket pocket.
“Namaste, Auntie Sarasvati. Yes, dear, it has been far too long since we visited. We shall have to schedule a Sunday dinner. And thank you for the elephant chopsticks for Boon. Yes, and the elephant bib. And elephant jammies. And elephant potty seat. I wasn't even aware they manufactured something of that nature, you are a marvel! What I was wondering.... Oh, no, he is looking quite fit, not visibly pining away at present. I wanted to ask.... Why, yes, a pie is always appreciated. Strawberry rhubarb?”
Charles started nodding frantically and rather rudely mouthing, “key lime.”
“Why yes, that would be fine. And....” Ganesh tried to shoo away his partner, but finally said, “And, if it's not too terribly much trouble, a key lime as well? Thank you so much dear. But, I was wondering if I could speak to Uncle? Yes, that's right. Yes, hello, Uncle? Sariel wishes to speak to you!”
There followed some moments of a great pantomime routine of Ganesh urging the phone on Charles and Charles trying his best to duck. Charles at length relented and put the phone to his ear.
“Uh, hi Uncle Brahma. Uh, yeah. Yeah, the market has been a bunch of nonsense lately. Yeah. Wish I had hidden my money in a mattress. Anyway. We called because we need to have a Naming thing for Boon. Uh, yeah, it's about time. Well, uh, he's got a lotta names, so it took a while. No, that was a joke. But, we evidently need another form? Well, it's from you guys. The TK-421? Oh, it would be.... Where...? Oh, there. Huh. No, I guess that's where I'd send my bureaucrats too. OK, can we send...? We hafta all be there? In person?” Ganesh and Raziel exchanged a glance. Charles was tugging on his tie, which was always a bad sign. “OK, OK. Yeah, Sunday, right. Sacred cow?” He glanced at Ganesh. “And maybe some of Auntie's vegetarian lasagna? Why, yes, he's still on that vegetarian nonsense. No, I assure you, I am not pining away. At least, not when we get our key lime. Yeah, to Auntie too. Bye.”
“What?” said Raziel.
“The paperwork's backed up in your underworld,” Charles told Ganesh.
“Hindu Hell?” asked Raziel.
“Madarchod,” swore Ganesh.
“BEANER BURR!” came the cries as toddlers variously fluttered and ran into the room.
“You guys need lunch?” asked Charles.
“You hadda remind them about peanut butter!” Raziel giggled at Wotan, who followed after the children, frown on his bearded face.
“I told them NO peanut butter!” Wotan fumed.
“That's like tellin' 'em not to think about French fries,” Charles laughed.
"FWENCHIE!" came the inevitable cries.
“Should we go grab some Blackness of Despair meals at Dimmu Burger?” Raziel asked.
“Do they still have the Amon Amarth toys?” asked Wotan hopefully.
“I think so,” said Raziel.
“Wait, you take the Blackness of Despair meal toys from your kid?” Charles asked.
“They have plenty of playthings! And I'm trying to complete my set!” Wotan replied. "Viking rock! It is quite marvelous!"
“Huh. Dimmu Burger toys,” Charles mused.
“I am making arrangements for us to complete the paperwork,” said Ganesh, who had been talking on the phone in rapid Hindi with someone.
“Tell me when, so I can come with,” said Raziel.
“What? Why are you going along?” asked Charles.
“I'm your publicist. Of course I'm going!”
“Where are you goin'?” asked Wotan.
“Hindu hell!” Raziel told him. “To finish Boonie's Naming paperwork.”
"Daming!" echoed Elias, who at least recognized his own name.
Wotan raised an eyebrow. “Hindu Hell. Have you been before?” he asked Charles.
“No. Why?”
Wotan roared with laughter. “Well, you're in for a time!” he said, slapping Charles on the back. “Now gather up, you useless Seraphim! We're going in the car.”
Charles choked. Why the hell did big guys always seem to consider it a sign of affection to whack the breath out of you? He considered offering to go along, as he wondered if the spectacle of Wotan in the Dimmu Burger drive through was anywhere near as awesome as Ganesh handling similar duties (“And are you Chicken Yum Yums certified as organic, cruelty-free Fair Trade?”). But then he saw Raziel grin and jiggle the car keys, and decided he and his stomach might be better off going back to Mordhaus. So, he excused himself and Walked.
“Pie? I mean, 31415? I mean, oh hell, Pie?” asked Charles, suddenly appearing in his outer office at Mordhaus.
“Yes, Sire?” said the Klokateer, sitting behind his desk. Charles noticed he was dressed in a new suit. A very nice new suit.
“Get me the CEO of Dimmu Burger on the phone.”
“Yes, Sire,” said 31415.
Charles continued into his office.
“YOOOOOOUUUUUUUU!”
Charles sighed deeply. “Yeah, you too. Aren't you supposed to be in the recording studio, doing your moaning thing or whatever the fuck?” he asked the vengeful Italian ghost.
“I need representaaaaaaaation!”
“You want an AGENT?” Charles asked it.
“I'm being exploooooooited!”
“Of for.... All right. All right.”
“I have demaaaaaaaands! I don't like green M&MMMMMMMMMMMs....”
“Yeah, I see how it would be difficult to work in such a soul-crushing environment. We'll get you representation, OK?”
“And I need a white dressing roooooom! With white floooooooowers and cannnnnnndles!”
“All right! I'll see to it!”
The spirit evaporated to a distinct whiff of ozone. Charles picked up his ringing phone. “Sire! Snorri Snorrglessen, CEO of Dimmu Burger, is on the phone, from Oslo," came 31415's voice.
“Yeah, hello, Snorri? This is Charles.... Uh.... Raziel!” he said to the angel who had just appeared sitting on his desk. “This guy is speaking Swedish!”
“Norwegian,” giggled Raziel.
“Why is he speaking Norwegian?”
“Maybe 'cause he's, ya know, in Norway. Wanna hand?”
Charles nodded and Raziel picked up the extension. “Tell him I wanna talk about doing a Dethklok Misanthropic Meal toy line," Charles told her.
Raziel prattled something into the phone.
“What does he say?”
She covered the mouthpiece. “He says I have a Swedish accent.”
“What does he say about the Misanthropic Meal?” Charles sighed.
Raziel babbled away some more. “In summary, he thinks it's a fabulous idea.”
“Fabulous?” asked Charles, who was literally choking.
“Uh. Brutal and metal?” tried Raziel.
“OK.”
“But....”
“But?” Charles leaned forward.
“They're only gonna do figures of one guitarist.”
“What, no Toki? Tell them.”
“Uh,” said Raziel, suddenly sounding not unlike her angelic cousin. “Actually, no Skwisgaar. Due to the whole thing of him being Swedish.”
“WHAT?”
Raziel proceeded to “translate,” which, oddly enough, took two or three minutes more of babbling. Finally she said, “Nope, no Skwisgaar.”
“But, they did Amon Amarth! They're all Swedish.”
More babbling. “He says they're not THAT Swedish.”
Charles frowned. “Look, you hafta do the whole band, or nothing.”
“I think he's leaning towards the 'nothing' option.”
“You know, if we wanted to, we could start our own fast food franchise!”
“You could?”
“No, tell him,” Charles said irritably, waving at the phone.
“He asks if you're having your little Swedish secretary threaten him. Wait, Swedish secretary?” Raziel babbled into the phone in an animated fashion.
“Because, we could totally do that!” Charles vowed.
“He says, yeah, like you did the frozen food. Ha ha ha.”
“Did he say it like that, 'Ha ha ha?'”
“Well, he sorta laughed. But in Norwegian.”
“NO ONE LAUGHS IN NORWEGIAN AT CHARLES FUCKING OFDENSEN! Slam the phone Raziel!”
“What? OK.” Raziel noisily hung up the phone. “Uh. You weren't serious about doing a fast food-”
“Of course I'm serious! I'm always serious!”
“You're gonna start your own Dimmu Burger just so you can make Misanthropic Meal toys?”
“Not just any Misanthropic Meal toys! DETHKLOK toys!”
Raziel looked skeptical.
“And Raziel, Pie's suit?” asked Charles.
“Oh, doesn't he look nice!”
“It is your doing? I figured he'd need a custom job to get something to fit over those biceps.”
“He's front office now! You can't have him wearing that T shirt.”
“No. I'm just not sure I like the idea of my receptionist being, uh, better dressed than me.”
“You're gonna let me dress you again?” asked Raziel excitedly. “I know this great guy in Milan-”
“What? No!”
“Aw, why not?”
“I'm not your fucking dress up doll, Raziel!”
“No, I have the kids for that now. But I could put you in such a great suit! I would make your butt look awesome.”
“I don't need-” He looked at her suspiciously. “What's wrong with my ass?”
“Ganesh would like it!”
Charles started to speak, but then paused. “What I wanna know is, when did the Female Online Division all get Chanel suits?”
“The girls all thought it was a cute idea!”
“You can't describe the Female Online Division as front office! And... And those hoods are not designed to be topped by a pillbox hat!”
“Aw.”
“Raziel. No!” said Charles, wagging a stern finger.
'You're talking to me like I'm a two year old.”
“As it happens, I have a two year old. I have found talking like that to be most effective.”
“Hum. So, you'll tell me when you're going to Hindy Hell?”
“Yeah, I'll-”
“So when are we GOING TO HELL?” demanded Nathan, who had just stormed in.
“Wait! How did you hear about this? Anyway, you're not going.”
“Raz TEXTED ME!”
“Raziel?”
“I texted them!” Raziel confessed.
“Wait? THEM? All of them?”
“Have you been to Hindu Hell before? You'll need the support!” Raziel told him.
“Raziel!”
“We can discuss this later,” the little angel told him. “I gotta get back. Wotan and Ganesh were watching the kids. Meaning NO ONE is watching the kids.”
"How is recording going?" Charles asked Nathan when Raziel disappeared.
"You know that Italian ghost dude?" Naan confided. "He's KIND OF AN ASSHOLE."
"He's a total asshole, actually."
"He keeps making ARBITRARY DEMANDS,"
"Imagine that," smiled Charles.
"He's selfish! And arrogant."
"Wow."
Nathan regarded Charles suspiciously. "You don't seem terribly sympathetic!"
"Who? Me."
Nathan glared at Charles for a time. "So when are we going to HE'LL?"
"Look, we just need to fill out some paperwork for Boon's Naming thing. I'll probably be boring as hell."
"Ha! Is that a joke."
"Actually, no."
"And, that Yama dude is in charge down there?"
"Yes," sighed Charles, grabbing the decanter on his desk and pouring himself a Scotch. "The biological father of our, uh, guest, Skanda, is in charge down there. But we're gonna hope we avoid seeing him." He poured out a second glass and pushed it towards Nathan.
"So. You're gonna need BACK UP!"
"Well. Honestly, Nathan. I appreciate the sentiment. I do. But I might end up being just as worried about you guys...."
"We can protect ourselves!" Nathan averred. "We have sporks."
Charles smiled slightly, twisting his whiskey glass slowly on the desk. "But, really, it's...."
"We should be there! We're his UNCLES."
The whiskey glass suddenly stopped turning as Charles' hand froze. He flicked his eyes towards Nathan, but then sat back, staring at the cut crystal whiskey glass. "Is, uh.... Is...." His voice had a husky quality to it. "Is that what you guys think?"
"Yeah of course why not?"
Charles nodded. Finally he said, "'Kay. OK, you'll go. Now I got stuff. To do. If you don't mind."
"Sure, dude," said Nathan, dropping his empty glass on the desk as he rose. Charles nodded, but did not meet his eyes. Nathan ambled out of the office. "Huh, weird dude," he muttered.
Meanwhile, in a nearby room....
"So, den you ams choose your power levels," Toki explained.
"Hey, Toki, dood, I t'ought we wuz gonna play Realm o' Elfdicks dis afternoon?" asked Pickles.
"Ja," said Toki, looking up from where he and Elias were huddled over a laptop. "We ams creating da avatars for Booms."
"Uh, ain't da little dood too young fer dis game?"
"I t'ink he ams gets it OK," Toki told him.
Pickles squinted at the laptop screen. "Uh, 127th degree Mage? Is dat even possible?"
"Unka Bick! Boon an Mage!" said Elias, pointing happily at the screen.
"Huh," said the drummer.
"Stoopid orcs," grumbled Pickles.
"Uh, guys?"
Neither Toki nor Pickles glanced up from their laptops.
"It's, uh, after midnight, and I need my kid back. From the, uh, babysitters." Charles looked at the three Realm of Elfdicks players. None looked back.
"Mmm," muttered Toki.
"Dood! C'n we jest finish dis quest?" pleaded Pickles.
"Boon an pwns da Horde, Dada!" said the boy, pointing proudly at his laptop screen.
"Yes, I'm sure you do, baby, but it's past your bedtime! You need to say goodnight to your Uncle Toki and Uncle Pickles."
"Night-night!" said Elias, obediently getting up from his computer.
"Mmm-hmmm," said Toki.
"But! Dood!" sputtered Pickles. "We wuz gonna get da gold coins an' kill da evil spirit dood and retrieve da ancient dagger an' rescoo da princess chick!"
"That's nice," said Charles, picking up a yawning Elias. "But I'm sure that will all be there tomorrow night."
"Awwwwww! Yoo never let us doo anything!" whined Pickles, throwing off his headset. "How about dat, Toki? Toki?"
"Mmmmm," Toki obliviously told his laptop.
"Hmpf. Last time I let a feckin' dwarf in my Guild," grumbled Pickles.
Some days later....
Charles and Nathan stumbled into Charles' office. Wordlessly, they both slumped into seats.
“That....” began Charles, straightening his tie.
“THAT....” said Nathan.
They were silent for a few more moments.
Finally Charles said, “You wanna drink?”
“Oh fuck yeah I wanna drink!” Charles grabbed the carafe and poured out two whiskeys, which both men downed in one. They exchanged a glance, and Charles poured two more.
Toki entered, pulling Murderface along behind him. The bassist appeared catatonic.
Toki settled Murderface into a chair. Nathan experimentally leaned over and waved a hand in front of his face. Murderface did not flinch.
“Did you guys, uh, come here by way of the Female Online Division?” sighed Charles.
“Ja!” said Toki.
“DOOOOOOD!” said Pickles from the doorway. Charles held up the decanter, and poured the conscious members of the party another drink.
Skwisgaar and Ganesh were the next to appear at the door. They glanced at each other wordlessly, and then strode in and helped themselves to the whiskey.
“Damns,” muttered Skwisgaar.
“Ganesh, you too?” asked Charles.
The elephant god sighed and poured another. “I've been in your thoughts enough to be affected by your … proclivities. But, THAT....”
“Dere ain't no standings up against dat,” muttered Skwisgaar.
“Not if you're a MAN, dude,” insisted Nathan.
“Hi guys!” sang Raziel, who had just appeared on Charles' desk. “Ready to go to Hindu Hell?”
“RAZIEL!” barked Charles. “Did you put the Female Online Division in Catholic Schoolgirl uniforms?”
“You said you wanted 'em out of the Chanel suits,” giggled Raziel.
“There is not a single male in the entire castle who's going to be able to work!”
“Can't we just sexually harrass, you know, a few of them Charles?” Nathan wondered. “We won't have to tell FACEBONES," he whispered.
“Ja, maybe we gets four or six and we just lets dems sue us!”
“Guys. No. As tempting.... No. Absolutely not. RAZIEL!”
“Yeeeeees?” grinned the angel.
“Get them into anything. Back into Chanel suits. I don't care!”
Klokateer 31415 entered the room. In contrast to the other men, he was looking calm and well-pressed. “Lord Elias is here,” he said, holding the child's little hand. Elias broke free and scrambled into Charles' lap, where he looked curiously at his father's whiskey glass. “This is for when you're older,” said his father.
“And much stupider,” sighed Ganesh, standing up. “Are we ready to proceed?”
“Shoulds we wakes up Moiderfaces?” asked Toki.
The bassist was suddenly surrounded, Ganesh shining a small flashlight into his eyes. “This is remarkable,” he muttered. “He is completely catatonic.”
“Dude could you shine a light in my eye too?” asked Nathan.
“Yeh, me too dood!” chimed in Pickles.
“Ams you has da laser pointers Ganoshes?” inquired Skwisgaar.
Raziel jumped off the desk, walked over to Murderface, and snapped her fingers in front of him. He shook his head, drooled and moaned a bit. “You guys ready to stop clowning around and get going?” she laughed.
They Walked to a place that resembled a colorful market square in a bustling Indian town. Charles didn't ever think he'd seen so many people. And gods. And maybe demons? They were all mixed in with perfectly unassuming looking people, although Charles had learned not to discount unassuming looking people. Some were dressed very traditionally, in colorful saris woven with gold and bedecked with jewels. But others could have wandered out of an office building on their lunch hour, dressed in suits and yacking into cell phones. Come to think of it, actually a whole lot of the traditional looking gods were also yacking into cell phones or sending texts.
It looked to be some kind of festival day, as there were crowds of all ages gathered on risers set around the perimeter of the square.
“I have already arranged for our audition number,” said Ganesh, holding up a piece of paper, “so we have but to wait until we are called.”
“Uh, our audition number?” asked Charles. But he was shushed as the group found their way to some empty benches. A gorgeous couple stepped into the middle of the square, and the excited chattering quieted somewhat, as cell phones were now being used as cameras.
“This is a couple applying for a marriage license,” Ganesh whispered.
“Wait. Outside?” asked Charles, but he was once again shushed.
The couple began to belt out a duet. They both had lovely voices that blended well together.
Listen jaanu....
Ain't no Everest high, ain't no hell below
Ain't no Ganges wide enough, jaanu
If you need met to stand in the rain with you
No matter where you are just call my name
And I'll ride my magic cloud to you
'Cause see
Ain't no Heaven high enough
Ain't no demon world low enough
Ain't no fire lake wide enough
To keep me from consummating our chaste love
Remember the day
I stood in the rain
And clasped your hand and stared into your eyes
And that other day I clutched you hand and it started to rain again
No rain
Or more rain
Or even yet more rain can stop me baby
From staring at you if you're ever in trouble
With the Indian censor board I'll be there on the double
Ooooo baby!
Ain't no afterlife high enough
Ain't no three-headed demon low enough
Aint' no karma wheel wide enough
To keep me from spinning to you!
There was some polite, golf-style clapping from the assembled audience.
“Whoa, tough crowd!” commented Charles.
The couple paused, breathless, and appeared to be looking expectantly over at three figures sitting at a table set up near the entrance of the square's biggest building. Suddenly, a very familiar figure walked up to the couple with a microphone.
“Hey, it's the Dethklok Minute dude!” whispered Nathan.
“Do you t'ink he ams mentions me dis time?” wondered Toki forlornly, to general shushing.
“Saif and Rani, how do you feel about your number? Feel good?” asked the Dethklok Minute guy.
“Yes, we feel very good about it,” said Saif, who was standing a polite distance from Rani, holding her hand.
“We spent many hours in the rain, clasping hands!” added Rani.
“Let's go see what our panel thinks!” said the Dethklok Minute guy. He escorted the anxious couple over to the table. “Whaddya think, Rhandi?”
“A little pitchy, dawg,” grumbled Rhandi, a large, friendly looking man with a tiger's head sitting at one end of the table. He grabbed the enormous tumbler of Coke in front of him and took a swig, licking his whiskers with a sandpapery tongue when he was done.
“Hey, Ganesh,” said Charles, “Is that your uncle down at the table?”
Ganesh nodded, looking concerned.
“Paulaji?” asked the Dethklok minute guy.
“You both have lovely voices,” babbled Paulaji, a cute brunette dressed in a sari, who suddenly face-planted into the middle of the table.
“Dood, she is so high!” observed Pickles.
“Yeah, totally,” rumbled Nathan.
“Vishnu?” said the Dethklok Minute guy to the blue god sitting at the end. “What did you think of Saif and Rani?" Charles noticed that Saif and Rani seemed to be trembling.
“Saif! Rani! You seriously call that a performance, loves?”
There was scattered booing in the audience.
“I mean, were you moved?” asked Vishnu, holding out several blue arms towards the seemingly unconsious Paulaji and contentedly purring Rhandi. “This was just diabolical.”
There was more hissing and booing. Dark-eyed Rani, holding Saif's hand, had started to weep.
“You are probably the worst singer's I've heard in five centuries of doing this. Just, useless. Completely useless.”
“So what's the verdict, panel?” chimed in the Dethklok minute guy.
“Sorry, dawg, but I just can't send you on,” said Rhandi regretfully.
“Paulaji?” The woman in the middle looked up when Vishnu whacked her with a couple of fingers.
“Yeah, sure!” she said, suddenly popping up. “You're going to Hindu Hell!”
“Vishnu?"
Vishnu, who was already making a sour face, shook his blue head. “It was like something you'd hear at a mediocre bar mitzvah. Sorry, darlings. No.” Rani sped away, weeping, with Saif following her. A very, very small rainstorm had started over the heads of the lovers, and as they ran, they started to get wet.
“Uhhhh, Ganesh,” said Charles, leaning over Toki to talk to his partner. “What exactly is this about?”
“Well, er, as I believe I mentioned, in order to obtain entrance to Hindu Hell, there is a small, er, nicety....”
“You mean getting insulted by your uncle?”
“Da Dethklok Minutes dudes ain't talked about me again!” Toki whined to Charles. “Can you have him killed?”
“Uh. Yeah. We'll see about that, Toki. Uh, where the hell did Raziel go?” He scanned back down to the table where the three judges sat, and his question was answered.
“We have an exciting announcement!” said the Dethklok Minute guy. Raziel was standing in the background, grinning. “We have some special celebrity guest judges today! First, top record producer, Dick Knubbler!” The angel stepped forward, his robotic eyes gleaming a proud green.
“It's great to be here babies, yeah!” he said to a much more enthusiastic acclaim from the audience than Saif and Rani had gotten.
"And as a special treat, the bassist of Dethklok, and my good friend of many years, William Murderface!"
"Schplendid to be here!" lisped the bassist. Charles noticed that several members of the audience were already holding up signs that said, "Knubblerface," despite this supposedly being a surprise.
“Wait, I wasn't informed of this!” grumbled Vishnu. Regardless of the god's consternation, more chairs were brought out, and Murderface and Knubbler were seated to Vishnu's sides, where Murderface, to Vishnu's visible consternation, began to carve his initials into the table with a large knife.
“Er, they are calling our number, so we had better take our places,” Ganesh told Charles as the small group made their way out of the risers.
“WHAT! I'm not gonna sing a fucking love duet!” said Charles as he jumped to the ground.
“Oh, no no no no no,” explained Ganesh. “I thought perhaps we would dance.”
“IN FRONT OF ALL THESE PEOPLE?” wailed Charles, waving an arm at the crowd.
“Er. Yes. But Skwisgaar has said he will play!”
Skwisgaar grinned and played a riff on his ever present Gibson.
“You're in on this too?” demanded Charles.
“Pfft. I ams likes it when you guys dance.”
“Wait! When have you seen us dance?”
“Out on da balconies?” smiled Skwisgaar.
Charles turned even paler.
“My balcony ams overlooks yours," Skwisgaar explained.
“Wait, you have a balcony? How much did that cost?”
“You ams approved it!”
“Sariel. Are you ready?” asked Ganesh.
Charles sighed and looked to Ganesh. "Uh, slow dance?” he said hopefully.
“Fast. You have seen this crowd. They are demanding."
"You couldn't do this with Raziel?"
"Raziel is NOT the father. You are."
“Could I at least get a cigarette?”
Pickles extracted a Marlboro from his pocket and dangled it temptingly before his angelic manager. Charles snatched at it, but Pickles quickly grabbed it out of the way.
“AFTER we finish!” scolded Ganesh. “We can't have you out of breath!”
“OK. All right. But....” Charles started forlornly.
“Remember, IT'S FOR BOON!” rumbled Nathan, now dangling Charles' giggling child in front of him.
“Shri Ganesha!” said the Dethklok Minute guy, who had just walked up, microphone in hand. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence today?”
“We need to file some paperwork for our son's Naming.”
“Well, as they say, nothing sure in this life but death and paperwork.”
“That is definitely true,” Ganesh agreed.
“And is this the child?' asked the Dethklok Minute guy.
"Yes, this is our little son, Elias."
"Det Kwok minnit!" chirped Elias appealingly.
"Handsome and intelligent!" agreed the Dethklok Minute guy. "And what are you gonna dance for us?"
"The defeat of the demon in the lake of fire!" said Ganesh.
"That's a snappy little number!" agreed the Dethklok Minute guy.
"We hope you shall all like it," said Ganesh, flashing his most attractive smile. Which was, admittedly, terribly attractive.
Charles sighed deeply. He had to admit, this was one of his favorite dances. It told an especially exciting story in Ganesh's dance language, about horrible demons and sword fights and guys getting killed with laser beam eyes. But it was very fast and quite complex.
Ganesh stared into his eyes as they set up. "Keep eye contact, forget everything else," the god told him. Charles swallowed hard. He really would have preferred being boiled in oil to dancing in public. And then having to endure Vishnu's bitchy insults!
Ganesh nodded to Skwisgaar, and the guitarist started one of his blindingly fast riffs. Pickles had also set up a makeshift percussion section nearby, and he had given Elias his own little set of buckets to pound on. It was a clever idea, as soon after they started off, the audience began clapping along, led by Raziel and Knubbler's enthusiastic clapping and finger snapping.
Charles let Ganesh lead, and noticed the god was throwing in moves from the hypnotic Join Us dance. The audience was now up on it's feet, when Raziel grabbed the Deklok Minute guy and began to dance with him. That was all it took, and soon dozens of audience members had paired off and started dancing joyously to the crazy rhythms.
"We need more people," Ganesh whispered to Charles. "Go grab a partner." Ganesh suddenly broke off and went to grab Rani's hand. She had been standing at the edge of the crowd, chastely holding hands with Saif. Charles scanned the crowd, and then made a hasty decision. He ran over and leapt up on the judge's table, and stuck out a hand.
He thought for a terrible moment he had made a grievous mistake as Paulaji blinked up blearily at him. But then all of a sudden Rhandi grabbed her by the waist and tossed her up on the table, and she was dancing.
And she was ... utterly fantastic. Charles was stunned. She was every bit ad good a dancer as Raziel.
And then Paulaji began to sing along....
Caught on this panel
Can't think which way to go
We've been stuck her for centuries is seems
And baby I'm getting fucking tired of this show
Feel like a fool this place
Makes me into a judge caught
Sitting by Vishnu
How about letting me go please?
Straight up now tell me
If I'm ever gonna judge here forever oh oh no
Or am I gonna get my own sitcom?
Straight up now tell me
Is it gonna be hearing Vishnu's insults oh oh oh
Or will TMZ carry my breakdown?
This is so hard to read
In the trades each week
How I'm looking stoned
It's been week after week
Then I'll have to seek
Another agent (another agent) baby
A better rep (A better rep) for me baby....
Straight up now tell me
If I'm fated for the panel forever oh no no
Or can I get a damn Pepsi some time
Straight up now tell me
Is that a real knife Murderface is holding yes yes yes
Or should I bring in an AK....
And then all of a sudden, there was a warm spring rainstorm, and the entire crowd was soaked.
By this time the song ended, the clouds had parted again, and the entire audience was on it's feet (or nearly so - Dethklok, after all, being a bunch of white guys), clapping and stomping and dancing along. The crowd cheered, and many held up suspiciously preprinted-looking signs that said....
"Chanesh?" a dripping Charles whispered to and equally soaked Ganesh.
"Yes. Lady Raziel thought it sounded somewhat better than Gnarles," Ganesh told him.
"I really need a cigarette."
"It will all be over soon," Ganesh assured him, although not with his usual confidence.
"So how did you feel about that, Ganesh? Did you feel good?" asked the still somewhat out of breath Dethklok minute guy.
"We feel very good, very confident," said Ganesh, flashing his most terribly blinding smile for good measure. Several girls (and a few of the boys) sitting in the front rows of the audience swooned over in a dead faint.
"What did you think, panel?" asked the Dethklok Minute guy.
"A little pitchy, dawg," said Rhandi.
"What?" sputtered Charles. "We were dancing, not singing!"
"I mean her, dawg," explained Rhandi agreeably nudging Paulaji.
"Paulaji?" asked the Dethklok Minute dude.
"You're a lovely dancer," Paulaji gushed at Charles. "And you," she told Ganesh dreamily. "You're just lovely."
"Thank you," said Ganesh, batting his love god eyes modestly at Paulaji while Charles quietly fumed.
"I danced with her," he groused to Raziel, whom stood gripping his elbow.
"Just cool it for now, Sariel," she whispered back.
"And what's that asshole Vishnu gonna say?"
"Not much," she grinned.
"Well, I don't know what you two thought you were doing," began Vishnu. But he stopped short, as Murderface's hunting knife had just come down between one of the blue god's hands and his tumbler of Coke.
"That was shagadelic, babies, yeah!" cheered Dick Knubbler. "Beyond epic, babies! You disintegrated me with your third eye, yeah! My soul is spinning on the wheel of karma, yeah! Chanesh forever babies, yeah!"
This got several audience members back to cheering and waving their Chanesh signs.
"And William Murderface, what did you think of this performance?"
"I thought they did juscht fine," said Murderface, who was now whittling a Facebones logo into Vishnu's Coke tumbler. "Juscht fine," he repeated, plonking the tumbler, which was madly leaking liquid, in front of the startled blue god.
"And Vishnu?"
"I.... Ah...." sputtered the blue god.
"This is a historic first! Vishnu is actually beyond words at the performance! So what's the final verdict, panel?"
"Dawg," said Rhandi, scratching his tiger whiskers, "You're going to Hindu Hell!"
"Paula?"
"You're going to Hindu Hell!"
"Hindu Hell babies, yeah!" agreed Dick Knubbler.
"I think they schould go to Hindu Hell. What do you schuppose, Vischnu?" inquired Murderface, cleaning his fingernails with his hunting knife.
"Ah," ventured Vishnu, the leaking Coke now pooling in the lap of his saffron robes. "Hindu Hell?"
The audience roared. Raziel screamed and jumped into Ganesh's arms.
Some time later, a little party gathered outside the door of the tremendous palace that apparently housed Hindu Hell.
"Thanks for the rain, Cousin Poseidon!” Raziel said into her cell phone. To Charles, she said, “You're on your own now.” She and Dick Knubbler stood bidding farewell to Charles, Ganesh, Elias, and Dethklok.
"How did we get the boys cleared to enter?" he asked her.
"I wrote them in as your backing band. But don't ever tell them that," Raziel grinned.
"Raziel," he said. "Thank you."
"Be careful. I've heard stories about this place."
"I've got Dethklok with me. What could happen?" he laughed. She only arched an eyebrow. She grabbed Dick Knubbler's arm, and, nodding goodbye, the two disappeared.
"Are we ready to GO TO HELL?" inquired Nathan.
"A couple of words first," said Ganesh. "First, Naraka is the PC term for the place. They get a little sensitive about the whole hell thing."
"But, it ams hell, ain't it?" asked Skwisgaar.
"Believe me, it is," Ganesh sighed. "So the usual rules apply. Don't eat or drink anything, unless Charles or I specifically tell you it's OK. Don't gamble, or make a wager with anyone. Most of all, please try to stick together. This place is a labyrinth."
"Labbrynth? Likes da goil parts?" inquired Toki hopefully.
"Ah, no, Toki, more like a maze I think," Charles told him.
"So are we ready?" Gamesh asked. There were assorted nods and grunts, so he strode up to the front door and boldly pushed in.
"You ams hears your daddies," Toki told Elias, who was trailing along with him. "You ams holds tight to Uncle Toki's hands?" The boy nodded solemnly, and they proceeded into the doorway.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT," commented Nathan. Although the place looked ridiculously big from the outside, it looked even bigger from the inside. Charles thought he had never seen so many miles of corridors. It was so big that beings were not only walking around, but riding bicycles, Segways, roller skating, and even skateboarding down the cavernous hallways.
"We schoulda brought the car," grumbled Murderface.
Elias pointed cheerily to a skateboarder and said, "Ooooo!" as he whizzed by.
"I ams teaches you to thrash in da few years, Boom," Toki assured him.
Ganesh had located a schematic of the place, with a well worn APA YAHAM HAIM dot somewhere in the center. "Skwisgaar? We need to get to room 1138!"
The Swede mused at the map for a time. "Ams dat on da foist floor, or da eleventeenth?" he asked.
"That's a good question? Would it be worth splitting up?"
Charles squinted at his Dethphone. "Huh. Well, I'm getting really good cell phone reception here."
"Dood, no kiddin'! I gotta bout a million bars."
“We just put in a new tower,” Ganesh bragged.
"Wowee! Maybe we ams plays Realm of Elfdicks?" inquired Toki.
"Pffft. You ams just gets your lame midgets ass handed to you," Skwisgaar chuckled.
"Toki ams not da midgetses! I ams da magicksal dwarfs!"
"Den you ams gets your axe handed to yous."
"OK, all right," said Charles. "Half of us will go up and check the eleventh floor, and half will stay here...."
"Er," said Ganesh, "This isn't precisely the first floor."
"Then what the fuck is it?" asked Nathan.
"This is the ground floor. The next floor up is the first floor."
"But if it's the next floor, how is it the first?" Nathan reasoned.
"Because that is the way one properly keeps track of floors!"
"It sounds FISHY to me," Nathan growled.
"Skwisgaar, you think you can find this elevator?" Charles asked, pointing to the map.
"Pffft. Ja, of course."
"OK, we'll go try to get to the eleventh floor, and you guys go up to the 'first' floor."
"You don't need to use air quotes," Ganesh sniffed. "All right, there is the main staircase," he said. He strode off, Murderface and Toki, clutching Elias' hand, following behind.
Charles and Skwisgaar tore off in the opposite direction, with Nathan and Pickles trailing behind.
"So is Toki really into that Realm of Elfdicks crap?"
"Yeh, dood," Pickles told him. "Yoo should totally join us on a raid some time."
"Pickles! That game is lame and unmetal!”
“Dood, our manger jest danced to a Bollywood toon.”
“Yeah, but....”
“An' I saw yoo clappin' along!”
“I did not clap! I NODDED! It's still cool to nod.”
“Heh.”
“Anyway, Realm of Elfdicks is LAME. It's played by a buncha fat guys sitting around EATING CHIPS!"
Pickles grinned and, gaving Nathan's stomach a poke, and tyen, before the big singer could grab him, ran to catch up with Charles and Skwisgaar.
"Asshole," grumbled Nathan.
Meanwhile, on the "first" floor, Ganesh stood at the counter of room 1138.
"WHAT?" growled the frizzy-haired clerk, her voice echoing with the tar of a million cigarettes. "Are you here for a marriage license?"
"We seek Form TK-421 for our child's naming ceremony," Gamesh explained, smiling appealingly at her.
"Whaddya think you are, some kinda love god?" she growled.
"Well, actually...."
"Don't try any of your tricks here," she warned him, waving a stubby finger at him.
"I really don't mean...."
"I know your kind! I'll call security!" she said, picking up an ancient telephone.
"Er...."
"Hello-" But the clerk was stopped short, as Murderface had just cut her phone chord.
“As I was saying,” smiled Ganesh, using his perhaps not quite so charming smile, “Form TK-421?”
"Uh. This is room one-one-three-eight. You need to get up to room eleven-thirty-eight, upstairs."
"Why thank you, Madame," said Ganesh. "You have been ever so helpful!"
Meanwhile, upstairs, on the eleventh floor, Charles was addressing a rather strikingly similar looking and sounding clerk. She was a bit more cooperative, perhaps because Nathan Explosion currently had her in a headlock.
“For the last time, I am not here for a marriage license. Form TK-421,” growled Charles.
“This is room … eleven-thirty-eight....” she breathed. “You need room one-one-three-eight, down on the first floor.”
“So we gotta go back down?” said Charles.
“Hey, wait, doods,” said Pickles. “Murderface jest texted me dat deir clerk tol' 'em t' come up here, t' da elevent' floor.”
“Wait. The FIRST FLOOR or the GROUND FLOOR?” demanded Nathan.
“Is there a difference?” grumbled the clerk.
“Spit it out!” demanded Charles. “My associate has a Gibson!” he threatened, pointing to Skwisgaar, who was posing with the guitar in a rather surly manner.
The clerk sighed in defeat. “The ground floor. It's room ZERO-one-one-three-eight.”
“All right, send those guys a text, we're coming back down,” said Charles, leading them out of the room.
“Did you get a texscht from Picklesch?” Murderface was asking Toki back down on the “first” floor, as the guitarist had, once again, strayed behind.
“Uh, no, actually, I ams playing da mobile version of Realms of Elfdick,” Toki confessed.
“Perhaps, Toki,” ventured Ganesh, exchanging a glance with Murderface, “you could, er, watch Boon for us, while William and I seek out the correct room below?”
“OK, ja, sure,” said Toki into his Dethphone.
Ganesh looked up and down the large, empty hallway. This area seemed fairly safe and deserted. “Elias! Stay right next to your Uncle Toki!” Ganesh admonished the child. “We will be back soon. All right?”
“An Fwenchie fo Boon?”
“Yes, and then we will all go to Dimmu Burger!” Ganesh gave his child a quick kiss, and then started off.
“Oh, cool,” said Murderface as they walked off. “I schtill need schome figures for my Blacknessch of Deschpair Meal collection.”
Elias sat by the large blank corridor wall and watched Toki poke at his Dethphone for a bit. And the he reached into his little pocket. He pulled out a crayon. He smiled.
“So this is zero-one-one-three-eight?” Charles sighed as his party arrived on the ground floor.
Ganesh and Murderface came around the corner.
“Where's the kid?” asked Charles.
“Upstairs with Boon,” Ganesh said with a slight smile.
“Can you go and check on 'em?” Charles asked Nathan. The big singer nodded, and he and Skwisgaar took off for the upstairs.
“Well, let's give this a try,” said Charles, pushing into the deserted looking office.
“You here for a wedding license?” asked the bored looking clerk.
“Form TK-421,” said Charles.
“Yeah. We only give that one out on Tuesdays.”
“But, we are here today,” said Ganesh. “We passed the audition.”
“Yeah. Try next Tuesday,” grunted the clerk, scratching his tusks.
“We don't wanna check back next Tuesday. We need the form NOW,” said Charles, as Murderface took out his knife and started whittling the desk.
“Then check back the Tuesday after that,” sighed the clerk, switching his forked tail.
“Doods, I t'ink we got trouble,” said Pickles.
“What?” asked Charles. “Did you get a text from Nathan?”
“Naw! I checked Toki's Realm o' Elfdicks acount, and he sez he's gonna kill a demon.”
“So?”
“So, he LOGGED OUT, an da message says he's gone t' kill a demon.”
Ganesh and Charles exchanged a look.
Elias regarded his newest creation. It was magnificent, or would be magnificent, if he had yet understood the word, “magnificent.” But as it was, it was very very cool at least. He went to tug on Uncle Toki's sleeve, to show him, but found his arm roughly grabbed by a very large, venomous-clawed hand.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?” shrieked a very large, fire-snorting demon. “THIS IS A CATASTROPHE!” it growled, licking it's sharp, pointed teeth.
Elias, who had never had to deal with a critic before, did the only thing a young artist could possibly do in that situation: he burst into tears.
The officious demon quite suddenly found himself face to face with a rather agitated Norwegian guitarist.
“YOU. AMS. MADE. HIMS. CRY,” Toki growled, tugging at the demon's collar.
“But.... He drew all over....”
“You don't evers makes da little boys cry,” Toki, his eyes glowing a dangerous red.
“Whoa, Toki dude!” said Nathan, who had just come into the hallway. “Hey, cool mural!” he said, scooping up Elias as he did.
“Oh, ja. Ams dat da Ramayana?” inquired Skwisgaar.
“No, actually, I believe it is from the Mahabharata,” the pointy-toothed demon told them.
The hallways, which had been deserted but for Toki, Elias and his crayon, was getting not so deserted as several more demons edged up to witness the argument. Although their motives were unclear, they definitely did not look friendly.
“You ams da bad demons and I ams kills you!” Toki hissed at the first demon. “I has da spork!”
“Well, in my defense,” said the demon, “I'm supposed to be bad. I am, after all, a demon.”
“Hims gots da points,” Skwisgaar allowed.
“Uh, Toki, I don't think Charles wants us to KILL GUYS,” warned Nathan.
“Hims made Booms cry!” Toki repeated.
“But Boon is feeling better now,” Nathan pointed out, as he nervously eyed the demons now pressing around them.
“Boon an bedder, Wunky,” said Elias.
“An hims has no depreciation of da arts!” said Toki.
“Well,” said the demon, “you have to admit, it's an aesthetic travesty! He has mixed styles to the point of insipidity! It's a pastiche!”
“IT AMS NOT DA PATSIES!” Toki yelled.
“Toki!” shouted Charles, breathless from running up the stairs. “Whoa, did Boon do that?”
“Oh, this is quite remarkable!” agreed Ganesh, taking out his cell phone camera to capture his son's latest piece.
“Are you the parents?” inquired the demon.
“Yes!” said Ganesh proudly.
“Well, then you would think that,” muttered the demon, to Ganesh's scowl.
Ganesh was about to reply with something pithy when Charles grabbed his arm. “Uh, Ganesh. We got more to worry about than a demon art critic.”
Ganesh looked around. The once empty halls were now crawling with demons, several of them literally crawling.
“Toki,” Charles said, very softly, approaching the guitarist. “It's OK.”
“Da demons made Booms cry,” Toki choked, his eyes still red.
“Well, Toki, he shouldn't have done that. But Boon shouldn't have drawn on the wall.”
“No,” said Toki, now glancing at Charles.
“Were you watching him, Toki?”
“Wells....”
“You're a pretty crap guardian,” grinned the demon.
“SHUTS, UP, demons,” hissed Toki. Suddenly, something flashed in his eyes.
“Toki....” Charles whispered, backing off a step. He looked around, noticing the other demons pressing closer.
Suddenly, off in the distance, there was the sound of hoofbeats.
“WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?” boomed a voice.
Everyone turned.
A big green demon, wide as he was tall, strode up. He was dressed in a military uniform. Behind him scurried a smaller demon, knocking coconuts together to mimic the sound of hoofbeats.
The big green demon signaled to his assistant. "Whoa, Chitragupta!" The assistant clattered the coconuts one last time and whinnied.
“THINGS HAVE GOTTEN TOO SILLY!” boomed the green demon.
“Oh,” said Ganesh. “Er. Hello, Uncle Yama.”
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Chasing down paperwork.
Warnings: Swearing
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Shri Brahma Vishnu Maheshwara Elias Ogoun Sen Michel: that's a lot of names. The kid is gonna need three pages in the phone book. Anyways, they need to arrange for his Naming ceremony (you thought I forgot - ha!).
This week I spend a bit of time ragging on Bollywood. This being MythKlok, you guys probably aren't gonna have any clue what's going on anyway, but in case you wanna be in on at least one silly joke: there really is a Bollywood couple named Saif and Rani. Here's a video of one of their numbers.
Click to viewBollywood has gotten a bit more relaxed, but it has traditionally been REALLY conservative, where lovers literally couldn't kiss onscreen. And one Bollywood actress actually got in trouble for kissing a guy in real life! So for some reason, the lovers almost inevitably end up getting caught in a rainstorm instead. Not sure why all the Indian actors don't have pneumonia or something.
And just to warn you so everybody isn't pissed off at me again this week, this one is the first of what's probably gonna be two parts. As a sorta general thing, I just got a new job, and they expect me to, you know, DO STUFF, so MK stuff is gonna slow down a bit. I'll still keep writing this nonsense as long as it amuses me, but there will be less of it.
Valhalla....
Auntie Raziel had sad eyes, and so Elias did what his Daddy often did when there were tears, he took his little wings out, because wings were good for sad eyes. He couldn't actually rock her, as he was too small, but he currently occupied her lap, and so was situated nice and close.
Unfortunately, Auntie Raziel seemed to function today in a counterintuitive manner (Elias was noticing that this happened sometimes, especially with female beings), and, if anything, this only seemed to increased the tear emission. His Daddy, who was also known to function in a counterintuitive manner, did not get his own wings out, but rather shook his head and held the bridge of his nose, as he was wont to do with Auntie Raziel. Fortunately, his Daddy, who was also there, employed the alternate solution of many, many arms, taken out and wrapped around the both of them, Raziel and Elias, and this finally seemed to soothe matters.
"You really want me to be his Naming sponsor?" Raziel sobbed when she was at last released from the Hindu god's many grips.
"No, we just love watching you bawl, Raziel," Charles sighed.
"It would be our honor, Lady Raziel," said Ganesh, shooting Charles an annoyed glance. "And much merited. You did, after all, coin his name."
“I never expected....” said Raziel.
"Aw, c'mon, Raziel," said Charles. "You don't believe in any of this crap either."
"It's an important responsibility," she said.
"They're scared of him, and they're scared of you, simple as that," said Charles.
"What's all the fuss and holler?" boomed Wotan, who had just stormed in.
"They want me to be Boonie's Name sponsor," sniffed Raziel.
"Well, so you're gonna be family?" said Wotan, snatching the child from his wife's lap. "Then there are a few rules you'll need to hear! First, no peanut butter near my saddle!"
"Beaner burr?" inquired Elias as they slammed out the door. Was it lunchtime already? He hoped there would be Frenchie fries.
"Have you guys picked a day yet?" Raziel asked.
"This thing is gonna be low key, Raziel,” Charles warned.
"Or, as low key as one may get with dancing elephants," smiled Ganesh.
"So you have all the paperwork filed?" Raziel asked as she dabbed at her streaking mascara with a handkerchief.
Charles and Ganesh looked at each other.
"Uh-huh. Successful executives," laughed Raziel, hitting a button on her speed dial. "Pie! How are you, dear?"
"Why is my receptionist on her speed dial?" asked Charles suspiciously.
"Did you like the book of Cherubic lyric poetry? Uh-huh,” prattled Raziel.
"They're probably all poems about sheet cake," muttered Charles.
"Would you approve if it were sonnets to pie?" Ganesh grinned.
"Maybe!"
"We were wondering, sweetie, do we have all the paperwork filed for Elias's Naming?” asked Raziel. “Can you look? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. The TK-421? I'll check into it. Goodbye, my darling!"
"Raziel, don't air kiss my receptionist!" Charles told her.
"Why not?" she said, hanging up.
"He's a former Green Beret! It's undignified!"
"Anyway, forget Cherubs, we have a paperwork hangup on the multi-limbed side of the family," said Raziel, pointing to Ganesh, who had already extracted an elegant cell phone from a jacket pocket.
“Namaste, Auntie Sarasvati. Yes, dear, it has been far too long since we visited. We shall have to schedule a Sunday dinner. And thank you for the elephant chopsticks for Boon. Yes, and the elephant bib. And elephant jammies. And elephant potty seat. I wasn't even aware they manufactured something of that nature, you are a marvel! What I was wondering.... Oh, no, he is looking quite fit, not visibly pining away at present. I wanted to ask.... Why, yes, a pie is always appreciated. Strawberry rhubarb?”
Charles started nodding frantically and rather rudely mouthing, “key lime.”
“Why yes, that would be fine. And....” Ganesh tried to shoo away his partner, but finally said, “And, if it's not too terribly much trouble, a key lime as well? Thank you so much dear. But, I was wondering if I could speak to Uncle? Yes, that's right. Yes, hello, Uncle? Sariel wishes to speak to you!”
There followed some moments of a great pantomime routine of Ganesh urging the phone on Charles and Charles trying his best to duck. Charles at length relented and put the phone to his ear.
“Uh, hi Uncle Brahma. Uh, yeah. Yeah, the market has been a bunch of nonsense lately. Yeah. Wish I had hidden my money in a mattress. Anyway. We called because we need to have a Naming thing for Boon. Uh, yeah, it's about time. Well, uh, he's got a lotta names, so it took a while. No, that was a joke. But, we evidently need another form? Well, it's from you guys. The TK-421? Oh, it would be.... Where...? Oh, there. Huh. No, I guess that's where I'd send my bureaucrats too. OK, can we send...? We hafta all be there? In person?” Ganesh and Raziel exchanged a glance. Charles was tugging on his tie, which was always a bad sign. “OK, OK. Yeah, Sunday, right. Sacred cow?” He glanced at Ganesh. “And maybe some of Auntie's vegetarian lasagna? Why, yes, he's still on that vegetarian nonsense. No, I assure you, I am not pining away. At least, not when we get our key lime. Yeah, to Auntie too. Bye.”
“What?” said Raziel.
“The paperwork's backed up in your underworld,” Charles told Ganesh.
“Hindu Hell?” asked Raziel.
“Madarchod,” swore Ganesh.
“BEANER BURR!” came the cries as toddlers variously fluttered and ran into the room.
“You guys need lunch?” asked Charles.
“You hadda remind them about peanut butter!” Raziel giggled at Wotan, who followed after the children, frown on his bearded face.
“I told them NO peanut butter!” Wotan fumed.
“That's like tellin' 'em not to think about French fries,” Charles laughed.
"FWENCHIE!" came the inevitable cries.
“Should we go grab some Blackness of Despair meals at Dimmu Burger?” Raziel asked.
“Do they still have the Amon Amarth toys?” asked Wotan hopefully.
“I think so,” said Raziel.
“Wait, you take the Blackness of Despair meal toys from your kid?” Charles asked.
“They have plenty of playthings! And I'm trying to complete my set!” Wotan replied. "Viking rock! It is quite marvelous!"
“Huh. Dimmu Burger toys,” Charles mused.
“I am making arrangements for us to complete the paperwork,” said Ganesh, who had been talking on the phone in rapid Hindi with someone.
“Tell me when, so I can come with,” said Raziel.
“What? Why are you going along?” asked Charles.
“I'm your publicist. Of course I'm going!”
“Where are you goin'?” asked Wotan.
“Hindu hell!” Raziel told him. “To finish Boonie's Naming paperwork.”
"Daming!" echoed Elias, who at least recognized his own name.
Wotan raised an eyebrow. “Hindu Hell. Have you been before?” he asked Charles.
“No. Why?”
Wotan roared with laughter. “Well, you're in for a time!” he said, slapping Charles on the back. “Now gather up, you useless Seraphim! We're going in the car.”
Charles choked. Why the hell did big guys always seem to consider it a sign of affection to whack the breath out of you? He considered offering to go along, as he wondered if the spectacle of Wotan in the Dimmu Burger drive through was anywhere near as awesome as Ganesh handling similar duties (“And are you Chicken Yum Yums certified as organic, cruelty-free Fair Trade?”). But then he saw Raziel grin and jiggle the car keys, and decided he and his stomach might be better off going back to Mordhaus. So, he excused himself and Walked.
“Pie? I mean, 31415? I mean, oh hell, Pie?” asked Charles, suddenly appearing in his outer office at Mordhaus.
“Yes, Sire?” said the Klokateer, sitting behind his desk. Charles noticed he was dressed in a new suit. A very nice new suit.
“Get me the CEO of Dimmu Burger on the phone.”
“Yes, Sire,” said 31415.
Charles continued into his office.
“YOOOOOOUUUUUUUU!”
Charles sighed deeply. “Yeah, you too. Aren't you supposed to be in the recording studio, doing your moaning thing or whatever the fuck?” he asked the vengeful Italian ghost.
“I need representaaaaaaaation!”
“You want an AGENT?” Charles asked it.
“I'm being exploooooooited!”
“Of for.... All right. All right.”
“I have demaaaaaaaands! I don't like green M&MMMMMMMMMMMs....”
“Yeah, I see how it would be difficult to work in such a soul-crushing environment. We'll get you representation, OK?”
“And I need a white dressing roooooom! With white floooooooowers and cannnnnnndles!”
“All right! I'll see to it!”
The spirit evaporated to a distinct whiff of ozone. Charles picked up his ringing phone. “Sire! Snorri Snorrglessen, CEO of Dimmu Burger, is on the phone, from Oslo," came 31415's voice.
“Yeah, hello, Snorri? This is Charles.... Uh.... Raziel!” he said to the angel who had just appeared sitting on his desk. “This guy is speaking Swedish!”
“Norwegian,” giggled Raziel.
“Why is he speaking Norwegian?”
“Maybe 'cause he's, ya know, in Norway. Wanna hand?”
Charles nodded and Raziel picked up the extension. “Tell him I wanna talk about doing a Dethklok Misanthropic Meal toy line," Charles told her.
Raziel prattled something into the phone.
“What does he say?”
She covered the mouthpiece. “He says I have a Swedish accent.”
“What does he say about the Misanthropic Meal?” Charles sighed.
Raziel babbled away some more. “In summary, he thinks it's a fabulous idea.”
“Fabulous?” asked Charles, who was literally choking.
“Uh. Brutal and metal?” tried Raziel.
“OK.”
“But....”
“But?” Charles leaned forward.
“They're only gonna do figures of one guitarist.”
“What, no Toki? Tell them.”
“Uh,” said Raziel, suddenly sounding not unlike her angelic cousin. “Actually, no Skwisgaar. Due to the whole thing of him being Swedish.”
“WHAT?”
Raziel proceeded to “translate,” which, oddly enough, took two or three minutes more of babbling. Finally she said, “Nope, no Skwisgaar.”
“But, they did Amon Amarth! They're all Swedish.”
More babbling. “He says they're not THAT Swedish.”
Charles frowned. “Look, you hafta do the whole band, or nothing.”
“I think he's leaning towards the 'nothing' option.”
“You know, if we wanted to, we could start our own fast food franchise!”
“You could?”
“No, tell him,” Charles said irritably, waving at the phone.
“He asks if you're having your little Swedish secretary threaten him. Wait, Swedish secretary?” Raziel babbled into the phone in an animated fashion.
“Because, we could totally do that!” Charles vowed.
“He says, yeah, like you did the frozen food. Ha ha ha.”
“Did he say it like that, 'Ha ha ha?'”
“Well, he sorta laughed. But in Norwegian.”
“NO ONE LAUGHS IN NORWEGIAN AT CHARLES FUCKING OFDENSEN! Slam the phone Raziel!”
“What? OK.” Raziel noisily hung up the phone. “Uh. You weren't serious about doing a fast food-”
“Of course I'm serious! I'm always serious!”
“You're gonna start your own Dimmu Burger just so you can make Misanthropic Meal toys?”
“Not just any Misanthropic Meal toys! DETHKLOK toys!”
Raziel looked skeptical.
“And Raziel, Pie's suit?” asked Charles.
“Oh, doesn't he look nice!”
“It is your doing? I figured he'd need a custom job to get something to fit over those biceps.”
“He's front office now! You can't have him wearing that T shirt.”
“No. I'm just not sure I like the idea of my receptionist being, uh, better dressed than me.”
“You're gonna let me dress you again?” asked Raziel excitedly. “I know this great guy in Milan-”
“What? No!”
“Aw, why not?”
“I'm not your fucking dress up doll, Raziel!”
“No, I have the kids for that now. But I could put you in such a great suit! I would make your butt look awesome.”
“I don't need-” He looked at her suspiciously. “What's wrong with my ass?”
“Ganesh would like it!”
Charles started to speak, but then paused. “What I wanna know is, when did the Female Online Division all get Chanel suits?”
“The girls all thought it was a cute idea!”
“You can't describe the Female Online Division as front office! And... And those hoods are not designed to be topped by a pillbox hat!”
“Aw.”
“Raziel. No!” said Charles, wagging a stern finger.
'You're talking to me like I'm a two year old.”
“As it happens, I have a two year old. I have found talking like that to be most effective.”
“Hum. So, you'll tell me when you're going to Hindy Hell?”
“Yeah, I'll-”
“So when are we GOING TO HELL?” demanded Nathan, who had just stormed in.
“Wait! How did you hear about this? Anyway, you're not going.”
“Raz TEXTED ME!”
“Raziel?”
“I texted them!” Raziel confessed.
“Wait? THEM? All of them?”
“Have you been to Hindu Hell before? You'll need the support!” Raziel told him.
“Raziel!”
“We can discuss this later,” the little angel told him. “I gotta get back. Wotan and Ganesh were watching the kids. Meaning NO ONE is watching the kids.”
"How is recording going?" Charles asked Nathan when Raziel disappeared.
"You know that Italian ghost dude?" Naan confided. "He's KIND OF AN ASSHOLE."
"He's a total asshole, actually."
"He keeps making ARBITRARY DEMANDS,"
"Imagine that," smiled Charles.
"He's selfish! And arrogant."
"Wow."
Nathan regarded Charles suspiciously. "You don't seem terribly sympathetic!"
"Who? Me."
Nathan glared at Charles for a time. "So when are we going to HE'LL?"
"Look, we just need to fill out some paperwork for Boon's Naming thing. I'll probably be boring as hell."
"Ha! Is that a joke."
"Actually, no."
"And, that Yama dude is in charge down there?"
"Yes," sighed Charles, grabbing the decanter on his desk and pouring himself a Scotch. "The biological father of our, uh, guest, Skanda, is in charge down there. But we're gonna hope we avoid seeing him." He poured out a second glass and pushed it towards Nathan.
"So. You're gonna need BACK UP!"
"Well. Honestly, Nathan. I appreciate the sentiment. I do. But I might end up being just as worried about you guys...."
"We can protect ourselves!" Nathan averred. "We have sporks."
Charles smiled slightly, twisting his whiskey glass slowly on the desk. "But, really, it's...."
"We should be there! We're his UNCLES."
The whiskey glass suddenly stopped turning as Charles' hand froze. He flicked his eyes towards Nathan, but then sat back, staring at the cut crystal whiskey glass. "Is, uh.... Is...." His voice had a husky quality to it. "Is that what you guys think?"
"Yeah of course why not?"
Charles nodded. Finally he said, "'Kay. OK, you'll go. Now I got stuff. To do. If you don't mind."
"Sure, dude," said Nathan, dropping his empty glass on the desk as he rose. Charles nodded, but did not meet his eyes. Nathan ambled out of the office. "Huh, weird dude," he muttered.
Meanwhile, in a nearby room....
"So, den you ams choose your power levels," Toki explained.
"Hey, Toki, dood, I t'ought we wuz gonna play Realm o' Elfdicks dis afternoon?" asked Pickles.
"Ja," said Toki, looking up from where he and Elias were huddled over a laptop. "We ams creating da avatars for Booms."
"Uh, ain't da little dood too young fer dis game?"
"I t'ink he ams gets it OK," Toki told him.
Pickles squinted at the laptop screen. "Uh, 127th degree Mage? Is dat even possible?"
"Unka Bick! Boon an Mage!" said Elias, pointing happily at the screen.
"Huh," said the drummer.
"Stoopid orcs," grumbled Pickles.
"Uh, guys?"
Neither Toki nor Pickles glanced up from their laptops.
"It's, uh, after midnight, and I need my kid back. From the, uh, babysitters." Charles looked at the three Realm of Elfdicks players. None looked back.
"Mmm," muttered Toki.
"Dood! C'n we jest finish dis quest?" pleaded Pickles.
"Boon an pwns da Horde, Dada!" said the boy, pointing proudly at his laptop screen.
"Yes, I'm sure you do, baby, but it's past your bedtime! You need to say goodnight to your Uncle Toki and Uncle Pickles."
"Night-night!" said Elias, obediently getting up from his computer.
"Mmm-hmmm," said Toki.
"But! Dood!" sputtered Pickles. "We wuz gonna get da gold coins an' kill da evil spirit dood and retrieve da ancient dagger an' rescoo da princess chick!"
"That's nice," said Charles, picking up a yawning Elias. "But I'm sure that will all be there tomorrow night."
"Awwwwww! Yoo never let us doo anything!" whined Pickles, throwing off his headset. "How about dat, Toki? Toki?"
"Mmmmm," Toki obliviously told his laptop.
"Hmpf. Last time I let a feckin' dwarf in my Guild," grumbled Pickles.
Some days later....
Charles and Nathan stumbled into Charles' office. Wordlessly, they both slumped into seats.
“That....” began Charles, straightening his tie.
“THAT....” said Nathan.
They were silent for a few more moments.
Finally Charles said, “You wanna drink?”
“Oh fuck yeah I wanna drink!” Charles grabbed the carafe and poured out two whiskeys, which both men downed in one. They exchanged a glance, and Charles poured two more.
Toki entered, pulling Murderface along behind him. The bassist appeared catatonic.
Toki settled Murderface into a chair. Nathan experimentally leaned over and waved a hand in front of his face. Murderface did not flinch.
“Did you guys, uh, come here by way of the Female Online Division?” sighed Charles.
“Ja!” said Toki.
“DOOOOOOD!” said Pickles from the doorway. Charles held up the decanter, and poured the conscious members of the party another drink.
Skwisgaar and Ganesh were the next to appear at the door. They glanced at each other wordlessly, and then strode in and helped themselves to the whiskey.
“Damns,” muttered Skwisgaar.
“Ganesh, you too?” asked Charles.
The elephant god sighed and poured another. “I've been in your thoughts enough to be affected by your … proclivities. But, THAT....”
“Dere ain't no standings up against dat,” muttered Skwisgaar.
“Not if you're a MAN, dude,” insisted Nathan.
“Hi guys!” sang Raziel, who had just appeared on Charles' desk. “Ready to go to Hindu Hell?”
“RAZIEL!” barked Charles. “Did you put the Female Online Division in Catholic Schoolgirl uniforms?”
“You said you wanted 'em out of the Chanel suits,” giggled Raziel.
“There is not a single male in the entire castle who's going to be able to work!”
“Can't we just sexually harrass, you know, a few of them Charles?” Nathan wondered. “We won't have to tell FACEBONES," he whispered.
“Ja, maybe we gets four or six and we just lets dems sue us!”
“Guys. No. As tempting.... No. Absolutely not. RAZIEL!”
“Yeeeeees?” grinned the angel.
“Get them into anything. Back into Chanel suits. I don't care!”
Klokateer 31415 entered the room. In contrast to the other men, he was looking calm and well-pressed. “Lord Elias is here,” he said, holding the child's little hand. Elias broke free and scrambled into Charles' lap, where he looked curiously at his father's whiskey glass. “This is for when you're older,” said his father.
“And much stupider,” sighed Ganesh, standing up. “Are we ready to proceed?”
“Shoulds we wakes up Moiderfaces?” asked Toki.
The bassist was suddenly surrounded, Ganesh shining a small flashlight into his eyes. “This is remarkable,” he muttered. “He is completely catatonic.”
“Dude could you shine a light in my eye too?” asked Nathan.
“Yeh, me too dood!” chimed in Pickles.
“Ams you has da laser pointers Ganoshes?” inquired Skwisgaar.
Raziel jumped off the desk, walked over to Murderface, and snapped her fingers in front of him. He shook his head, drooled and moaned a bit. “You guys ready to stop clowning around and get going?” she laughed.
They Walked to a place that resembled a colorful market square in a bustling Indian town. Charles didn't ever think he'd seen so many people. And gods. And maybe demons? They were all mixed in with perfectly unassuming looking people, although Charles had learned not to discount unassuming looking people. Some were dressed very traditionally, in colorful saris woven with gold and bedecked with jewels. But others could have wandered out of an office building on their lunch hour, dressed in suits and yacking into cell phones. Come to think of it, actually a whole lot of the traditional looking gods were also yacking into cell phones or sending texts.
It looked to be some kind of festival day, as there were crowds of all ages gathered on risers set around the perimeter of the square.
“I have already arranged for our audition number,” said Ganesh, holding up a piece of paper, “so we have but to wait until we are called.”
“Uh, our audition number?” asked Charles. But he was shushed as the group found their way to some empty benches. A gorgeous couple stepped into the middle of the square, and the excited chattering quieted somewhat, as cell phones were now being used as cameras.
“This is a couple applying for a marriage license,” Ganesh whispered.
“Wait. Outside?” asked Charles, but he was once again shushed.
The couple began to belt out a duet. They both had lovely voices that blended well together.
Listen jaanu....
Ain't no Everest high, ain't no hell below
Ain't no Ganges wide enough, jaanu
If you need met to stand in the rain with you
No matter where you are just call my name
And I'll ride my magic cloud to you
'Cause see
Ain't no Heaven high enough
Ain't no demon world low enough
Ain't no fire lake wide enough
To keep me from consummating our chaste love
Remember the day
I stood in the rain
And clasped your hand and stared into your eyes
And that other day I clutched you hand and it started to rain again
No rain
Or more rain
Or even yet more rain can stop me baby
From staring at you if you're ever in trouble
With the Indian censor board I'll be there on the double
Ooooo baby!
Ain't no afterlife high enough
Ain't no three-headed demon low enough
Aint' no karma wheel wide enough
To keep me from spinning to you!
There was some polite, golf-style clapping from the assembled audience.
“Whoa, tough crowd!” commented Charles.
The couple paused, breathless, and appeared to be looking expectantly over at three figures sitting at a table set up near the entrance of the square's biggest building. Suddenly, a very familiar figure walked up to the couple with a microphone.
“Hey, it's the Dethklok Minute dude!” whispered Nathan.
“Do you t'ink he ams mentions me dis time?” wondered Toki forlornly, to general shushing.
“Saif and Rani, how do you feel about your number? Feel good?” asked the Dethklok Minute guy.
“Yes, we feel very good about it,” said Saif, who was standing a polite distance from Rani, holding her hand.
“We spent many hours in the rain, clasping hands!” added Rani.
“Let's go see what our panel thinks!” said the Dethklok Minute guy. He escorted the anxious couple over to the table. “Whaddya think, Rhandi?”
“A little pitchy, dawg,” grumbled Rhandi, a large, friendly looking man with a tiger's head sitting at one end of the table. He grabbed the enormous tumbler of Coke in front of him and took a swig, licking his whiskers with a sandpapery tongue when he was done.
“Hey, Ganesh,” said Charles, “Is that your uncle down at the table?”
Ganesh nodded, looking concerned.
“Paulaji?” asked the Dethklok minute guy.
“You both have lovely voices,” babbled Paulaji, a cute brunette dressed in a sari, who suddenly face-planted into the middle of the table.
“Dood, she is so high!” observed Pickles.
“Yeah, totally,” rumbled Nathan.
“Vishnu?” said the Dethklok Minute guy to the blue god sitting at the end. “What did you think of Saif and Rani?" Charles noticed that Saif and Rani seemed to be trembling.
“Saif! Rani! You seriously call that a performance, loves?”
There was scattered booing in the audience.
“I mean, were you moved?” asked Vishnu, holding out several blue arms towards the seemingly unconsious Paulaji and contentedly purring Rhandi. “This was just diabolical.”
There was more hissing and booing. Dark-eyed Rani, holding Saif's hand, had started to weep.
“You are probably the worst singer's I've heard in five centuries of doing this. Just, useless. Completely useless.”
“So what's the verdict, panel?” chimed in the Dethklok minute guy.
“Sorry, dawg, but I just can't send you on,” said Rhandi regretfully.
“Paulaji?” The woman in the middle looked up when Vishnu whacked her with a couple of fingers.
“Yeah, sure!” she said, suddenly popping up. “You're going to Hindu Hell!”
“Vishnu?"
Vishnu, who was already making a sour face, shook his blue head. “It was like something you'd hear at a mediocre bar mitzvah. Sorry, darlings. No.” Rani sped away, weeping, with Saif following her. A very, very small rainstorm had started over the heads of the lovers, and as they ran, they started to get wet.
“Uhhhh, Ganesh,” said Charles, leaning over Toki to talk to his partner. “What exactly is this about?”
“Well, er, as I believe I mentioned, in order to obtain entrance to Hindu Hell, there is a small, er, nicety....”
“You mean getting insulted by your uncle?”
“Da Dethklok Minutes dudes ain't talked about me again!” Toki whined to Charles. “Can you have him killed?”
“Uh. Yeah. We'll see about that, Toki. Uh, where the hell did Raziel go?” He scanned back down to the table where the three judges sat, and his question was answered.
“We have an exciting announcement!” said the Dethklok Minute guy. Raziel was standing in the background, grinning. “We have some special celebrity guest judges today! First, top record producer, Dick Knubbler!” The angel stepped forward, his robotic eyes gleaming a proud green.
“It's great to be here babies, yeah!” he said to a much more enthusiastic acclaim from the audience than Saif and Rani had gotten.
"And as a special treat, the bassist of Dethklok, and my good friend of many years, William Murderface!"
"Schplendid to be here!" lisped the bassist. Charles noticed that several members of the audience were already holding up signs that said, "Knubblerface," despite this supposedly being a surprise.
“Wait, I wasn't informed of this!” grumbled Vishnu. Regardless of the god's consternation, more chairs were brought out, and Murderface and Knubbler were seated to Vishnu's sides, where Murderface, to Vishnu's visible consternation, began to carve his initials into the table with a large knife.
“Er, they are calling our number, so we had better take our places,” Ganesh told Charles as the small group made their way out of the risers.
“WHAT! I'm not gonna sing a fucking love duet!” said Charles as he jumped to the ground.
“Oh, no no no no no,” explained Ganesh. “I thought perhaps we would dance.”
“IN FRONT OF ALL THESE PEOPLE?” wailed Charles, waving an arm at the crowd.
“Er. Yes. But Skwisgaar has said he will play!”
Skwisgaar grinned and played a riff on his ever present Gibson.
“You're in on this too?” demanded Charles.
“Pfft. I ams likes it when you guys dance.”
“Wait! When have you seen us dance?”
“Out on da balconies?” smiled Skwisgaar.
Charles turned even paler.
“My balcony ams overlooks yours," Skwisgaar explained.
“Wait, you have a balcony? How much did that cost?”
“You ams approved it!”
“Sariel. Are you ready?” asked Ganesh.
Charles sighed and looked to Ganesh. "Uh, slow dance?” he said hopefully.
“Fast. You have seen this crowd. They are demanding."
"You couldn't do this with Raziel?"
"Raziel is NOT the father. You are."
“Could I at least get a cigarette?”
Pickles extracted a Marlboro from his pocket and dangled it temptingly before his angelic manager. Charles snatched at it, but Pickles quickly grabbed it out of the way.
“AFTER we finish!” scolded Ganesh. “We can't have you out of breath!”
“OK. All right. But....” Charles started forlornly.
“Remember, IT'S FOR BOON!” rumbled Nathan, now dangling Charles' giggling child in front of him.
“Shri Ganesha!” said the Dethklok Minute guy, who had just walked up, microphone in hand. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence today?”
“We need to file some paperwork for our son's Naming.”
“Well, as they say, nothing sure in this life but death and paperwork.”
“That is definitely true,” Ganesh agreed.
“And is this the child?' asked the Dethklok Minute guy.
"Yes, this is our little son, Elias."
"Det Kwok minnit!" chirped Elias appealingly.
"Handsome and intelligent!" agreed the Dethklok Minute guy. "And what are you gonna dance for us?"
"The defeat of the demon in the lake of fire!" said Ganesh.
"That's a snappy little number!" agreed the Dethklok Minute guy.
"We hope you shall all like it," said Ganesh, flashing his most attractive smile. Which was, admittedly, terribly attractive.
Charles sighed deeply. He had to admit, this was one of his favorite dances. It told an especially exciting story in Ganesh's dance language, about horrible demons and sword fights and guys getting killed with laser beam eyes. But it was very fast and quite complex.
Ganesh stared into his eyes as they set up. "Keep eye contact, forget everything else," the god told him. Charles swallowed hard. He really would have preferred being boiled in oil to dancing in public. And then having to endure Vishnu's bitchy insults!
Ganesh nodded to Skwisgaar, and the guitarist started one of his blindingly fast riffs. Pickles had also set up a makeshift percussion section nearby, and he had given Elias his own little set of buckets to pound on. It was a clever idea, as soon after they started off, the audience began clapping along, led by Raziel and Knubbler's enthusiastic clapping and finger snapping.
Charles let Ganesh lead, and noticed the god was throwing in moves from the hypnotic Join Us dance. The audience was now up on it's feet, when Raziel grabbed the Deklok Minute guy and began to dance with him. That was all it took, and soon dozens of audience members had paired off and started dancing joyously to the crazy rhythms.
"We need more people," Ganesh whispered to Charles. "Go grab a partner." Ganesh suddenly broke off and went to grab Rani's hand. She had been standing at the edge of the crowd, chastely holding hands with Saif. Charles scanned the crowd, and then made a hasty decision. He ran over and leapt up on the judge's table, and stuck out a hand.
He thought for a terrible moment he had made a grievous mistake as Paulaji blinked up blearily at him. But then all of a sudden Rhandi grabbed her by the waist and tossed her up on the table, and she was dancing.
And she was ... utterly fantastic. Charles was stunned. She was every bit ad good a dancer as Raziel.
And then Paulaji began to sing along....
Caught on this panel
Can't think which way to go
We've been stuck her for centuries is seems
And baby I'm getting fucking tired of this show
Feel like a fool this place
Makes me into a judge caught
Sitting by Vishnu
How about letting me go please?
Straight up now tell me
If I'm ever gonna judge here forever oh oh no
Or am I gonna get my own sitcom?
Straight up now tell me
Is it gonna be hearing Vishnu's insults oh oh oh
Or will TMZ carry my breakdown?
This is so hard to read
In the trades each week
How I'm looking stoned
It's been week after week
Then I'll have to seek
Another agent (another agent) baby
A better rep (A better rep) for me baby....
Straight up now tell me
If I'm fated for the panel forever oh no no
Or can I get a damn Pepsi some time
Straight up now tell me
Is that a real knife Murderface is holding yes yes yes
Or should I bring in an AK....
And then all of a sudden, there was a warm spring rainstorm, and the entire crowd was soaked.
By this time the song ended, the clouds had parted again, and the entire audience was on it's feet (or nearly so - Dethklok, after all, being a bunch of white guys), clapping and stomping and dancing along. The crowd cheered, and many held up suspiciously preprinted-looking signs that said....
"Chanesh?" a dripping Charles whispered to and equally soaked Ganesh.
"Yes. Lady Raziel thought it sounded somewhat better than Gnarles," Ganesh told him.
"I really need a cigarette."
"It will all be over soon," Ganesh assured him, although not with his usual confidence.
"So how did you feel about that, Ganesh? Did you feel good?" asked the still somewhat out of breath Dethklok minute guy.
"We feel very good, very confident," said Ganesh, flashing his most terribly blinding smile for good measure. Several girls (and a few of the boys) sitting in the front rows of the audience swooned over in a dead faint.
"What did you think, panel?" asked the Dethklok Minute guy.
"A little pitchy, dawg," said Rhandi.
"What?" sputtered Charles. "We were dancing, not singing!"
"I mean her, dawg," explained Rhandi agreeably nudging Paulaji.
"Paulaji?" asked the Dethklok Minute dude.
"You're a lovely dancer," Paulaji gushed at Charles. "And you," she told Ganesh dreamily. "You're just lovely."
"Thank you," said Ganesh, batting his love god eyes modestly at Paulaji while Charles quietly fumed.
"I danced with her," he groused to Raziel, whom stood gripping his elbow.
"Just cool it for now, Sariel," she whispered back.
"And what's that asshole Vishnu gonna say?"
"Not much," she grinned.
"Well, I don't know what you two thought you were doing," began Vishnu. But he stopped short, as Murderface's hunting knife had just come down between one of the blue god's hands and his tumbler of Coke.
"That was shagadelic, babies, yeah!" cheered Dick Knubbler. "Beyond epic, babies! You disintegrated me with your third eye, yeah! My soul is spinning on the wheel of karma, yeah! Chanesh forever babies, yeah!"
This got several audience members back to cheering and waving their Chanesh signs.
"And William Murderface, what did you think of this performance?"
"I thought they did juscht fine," said Murderface, who was now whittling a Facebones logo into Vishnu's Coke tumbler. "Juscht fine," he repeated, plonking the tumbler, which was madly leaking liquid, in front of the startled blue god.
"And Vishnu?"
"I.... Ah...." sputtered the blue god.
"This is a historic first! Vishnu is actually beyond words at the performance! So what's the final verdict, panel?"
"Dawg," said Rhandi, scratching his tiger whiskers, "You're going to Hindu Hell!"
"Paula?"
"You're going to Hindu Hell!"
"Hindu Hell babies, yeah!" agreed Dick Knubbler.
"I think they schould go to Hindu Hell. What do you schuppose, Vischnu?" inquired Murderface, cleaning his fingernails with his hunting knife.
"Ah," ventured Vishnu, the leaking Coke now pooling in the lap of his saffron robes. "Hindu Hell?"
The audience roared. Raziel screamed and jumped into Ganesh's arms.
Some time later, a little party gathered outside the door of the tremendous palace that apparently housed Hindu Hell.
"Thanks for the rain, Cousin Poseidon!” Raziel said into her cell phone. To Charles, she said, “You're on your own now.” She and Dick Knubbler stood bidding farewell to Charles, Ganesh, Elias, and Dethklok.
"How did we get the boys cleared to enter?" he asked her.
"I wrote them in as your backing band. But don't ever tell them that," Raziel grinned.
"Raziel," he said. "Thank you."
"Be careful. I've heard stories about this place."
"I've got Dethklok with me. What could happen?" he laughed. She only arched an eyebrow. She grabbed Dick Knubbler's arm, and, nodding goodbye, the two disappeared.
"Are we ready to GO TO HELL?" inquired Nathan.
"A couple of words first," said Ganesh. "First, Naraka is the PC term for the place. They get a little sensitive about the whole hell thing."
"But, it ams hell, ain't it?" asked Skwisgaar.
"Believe me, it is," Ganesh sighed. "So the usual rules apply. Don't eat or drink anything, unless Charles or I specifically tell you it's OK. Don't gamble, or make a wager with anyone. Most of all, please try to stick together. This place is a labyrinth."
"Labbrynth? Likes da goil parts?" inquired Toki hopefully.
"Ah, no, Toki, more like a maze I think," Charles told him.
"So are we ready?" Gamesh asked. There were assorted nods and grunts, so he strode up to the front door and boldly pushed in.
"You ams hears your daddies," Toki told Elias, who was trailing along with him. "You ams holds tight to Uncle Toki's hands?" The boy nodded solemnly, and they proceeded into the doorway.
"HOLY FUCKING SHIT," commented Nathan. Although the place looked ridiculously big from the outside, it looked even bigger from the inside. Charles thought he had never seen so many miles of corridors. It was so big that beings were not only walking around, but riding bicycles, Segways, roller skating, and even skateboarding down the cavernous hallways.
"We schoulda brought the car," grumbled Murderface.
Elias pointed cheerily to a skateboarder and said, "Ooooo!" as he whizzed by.
"I ams teaches you to thrash in da few years, Boom," Toki assured him.
Ganesh had located a schematic of the place, with a well worn APA YAHAM HAIM dot somewhere in the center. "Skwisgaar? We need to get to room 1138!"
The Swede mused at the map for a time. "Ams dat on da foist floor, or da eleventeenth?" he asked.
"That's a good question? Would it be worth splitting up?"
Charles squinted at his Dethphone. "Huh. Well, I'm getting really good cell phone reception here."
"Dood, no kiddin'! I gotta bout a million bars."
“We just put in a new tower,” Ganesh bragged.
"Wowee! Maybe we ams plays Realm of Elfdicks?" inquired Toki.
"Pffft. You ams just gets your lame midgets ass handed to you," Skwisgaar chuckled.
"Toki ams not da midgetses! I ams da magicksal dwarfs!"
"Den you ams gets your axe handed to yous."
"OK, all right," said Charles. "Half of us will go up and check the eleventh floor, and half will stay here...."
"Er," said Ganesh, "This isn't precisely the first floor."
"Then what the fuck is it?" asked Nathan.
"This is the ground floor. The next floor up is the first floor."
"But if it's the next floor, how is it the first?" Nathan reasoned.
"Because that is the way one properly keeps track of floors!"
"It sounds FISHY to me," Nathan growled.
"Skwisgaar, you think you can find this elevator?" Charles asked, pointing to the map.
"Pffft. Ja, of course."
"OK, we'll go try to get to the eleventh floor, and you guys go up to the 'first' floor."
"You don't need to use air quotes," Ganesh sniffed. "All right, there is the main staircase," he said. He strode off, Murderface and Toki, clutching Elias' hand, following behind.
Charles and Skwisgaar tore off in the opposite direction, with Nathan and Pickles trailing behind.
"So is Toki really into that Realm of Elfdicks crap?"
"Yeh, dood," Pickles told him. "Yoo should totally join us on a raid some time."
"Pickles! That game is lame and unmetal!”
“Dood, our manger jest danced to a Bollywood toon.”
“Yeah, but....”
“An' I saw yoo clappin' along!”
“I did not clap! I NODDED! It's still cool to nod.”
“Heh.”
“Anyway, Realm of Elfdicks is LAME. It's played by a buncha fat guys sitting around EATING CHIPS!"
Pickles grinned and, gaving Nathan's stomach a poke, and tyen, before the big singer could grab him, ran to catch up with Charles and Skwisgaar.
"Asshole," grumbled Nathan.
Meanwhile, on the "first" floor, Ganesh stood at the counter of room 1138.
"WHAT?" growled the frizzy-haired clerk, her voice echoing with the tar of a million cigarettes. "Are you here for a marriage license?"
"We seek Form TK-421 for our child's naming ceremony," Gamesh explained, smiling appealingly at her.
"Whaddya think you are, some kinda love god?" she growled.
"Well, actually...."
"Don't try any of your tricks here," she warned him, waving a stubby finger at him.
"I really don't mean...."
"I know your kind! I'll call security!" she said, picking up an ancient telephone.
"Er...."
"Hello-" But the clerk was stopped short, as Murderface had just cut her phone chord.
“As I was saying,” smiled Ganesh, using his perhaps not quite so charming smile, “Form TK-421?”
"Uh. This is room one-one-three-eight. You need to get up to room eleven-thirty-eight, upstairs."
"Why thank you, Madame," said Ganesh. "You have been ever so helpful!"
Meanwhile, upstairs, on the eleventh floor, Charles was addressing a rather strikingly similar looking and sounding clerk. She was a bit more cooperative, perhaps because Nathan Explosion currently had her in a headlock.
“For the last time, I am not here for a marriage license. Form TK-421,” growled Charles.
“This is room … eleven-thirty-eight....” she breathed. “You need room one-one-three-eight, down on the first floor.”
“So we gotta go back down?” said Charles.
“Hey, wait, doods,” said Pickles. “Murderface jest texted me dat deir clerk tol' 'em t' come up here, t' da elevent' floor.”
“Wait. The FIRST FLOOR or the GROUND FLOOR?” demanded Nathan.
“Is there a difference?” grumbled the clerk.
“Spit it out!” demanded Charles. “My associate has a Gibson!” he threatened, pointing to Skwisgaar, who was posing with the guitar in a rather surly manner.
The clerk sighed in defeat. “The ground floor. It's room ZERO-one-one-three-eight.”
“All right, send those guys a text, we're coming back down,” said Charles, leading them out of the room.
“Did you get a texscht from Picklesch?” Murderface was asking Toki back down on the “first” floor, as the guitarist had, once again, strayed behind.
“Uh, no, actually, I ams playing da mobile version of Realms of Elfdick,” Toki confessed.
“Perhaps, Toki,” ventured Ganesh, exchanging a glance with Murderface, “you could, er, watch Boon for us, while William and I seek out the correct room below?”
“OK, ja, sure,” said Toki into his Dethphone.
Ganesh looked up and down the large, empty hallway. This area seemed fairly safe and deserted. “Elias! Stay right next to your Uncle Toki!” Ganesh admonished the child. “We will be back soon. All right?”
“An Fwenchie fo Boon?”
“Yes, and then we will all go to Dimmu Burger!” Ganesh gave his child a quick kiss, and then started off.
“Oh, cool,” said Murderface as they walked off. “I schtill need schome figures for my Blacknessch of Deschpair Meal collection.”
Elias sat by the large blank corridor wall and watched Toki poke at his Dethphone for a bit. And the he reached into his little pocket. He pulled out a crayon. He smiled.
“So this is zero-one-one-three-eight?” Charles sighed as his party arrived on the ground floor.
Ganesh and Murderface came around the corner.
“Where's the kid?” asked Charles.
“Upstairs with Boon,” Ganesh said with a slight smile.
“Can you go and check on 'em?” Charles asked Nathan. The big singer nodded, and he and Skwisgaar took off for the upstairs.
“Well, let's give this a try,” said Charles, pushing into the deserted looking office.
“You here for a wedding license?” asked the bored looking clerk.
“Form TK-421,” said Charles.
“Yeah. We only give that one out on Tuesdays.”
“But, we are here today,” said Ganesh. “We passed the audition.”
“Yeah. Try next Tuesday,” grunted the clerk, scratching his tusks.
“We don't wanna check back next Tuesday. We need the form NOW,” said Charles, as Murderface took out his knife and started whittling the desk.
“Then check back the Tuesday after that,” sighed the clerk, switching his forked tail.
“Doods, I t'ink we got trouble,” said Pickles.
“What?” asked Charles. “Did you get a text from Nathan?”
“Naw! I checked Toki's Realm o' Elfdicks acount, and he sez he's gonna kill a demon.”
“So?”
“So, he LOGGED OUT, an da message says he's gone t' kill a demon.”
Ganesh and Charles exchanged a look.
Elias regarded his newest creation. It was magnificent, or would be magnificent, if he had yet understood the word, “magnificent.” But as it was, it was very very cool at least. He went to tug on Uncle Toki's sleeve, to show him, but found his arm roughly grabbed by a very large, venomous-clawed hand.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?” shrieked a very large, fire-snorting demon. “THIS IS A CATASTROPHE!” it growled, licking it's sharp, pointed teeth.
Elias, who had never had to deal with a critic before, did the only thing a young artist could possibly do in that situation: he burst into tears.
The officious demon quite suddenly found himself face to face with a rather agitated Norwegian guitarist.
“YOU. AMS. MADE. HIMS. CRY,” Toki growled, tugging at the demon's collar.
“But.... He drew all over....”
“You don't evers makes da little boys cry,” Toki, his eyes glowing a dangerous red.
“Whoa, Toki dude!” said Nathan, who had just come into the hallway. “Hey, cool mural!” he said, scooping up Elias as he did.
“Oh, ja. Ams dat da Ramayana?” inquired Skwisgaar.
“No, actually, I believe it is from the Mahabharata,” the pointy-toothed demon told them.
The hallways, which had been deserted but for Toki, Elias and his crayon, was getting not so deserted as several more demons edged up to witness the argument. Although their motives were unclear, they definitely did not look friendly.
“You ams da bad demons and I ams kills you!” Toki hissed at the first demon. “I has da spork!”
“Well, in my defense,” said the demon, “I'm supposed to be bad. I am, after all, a demon.”
“Hims gots da points,” Skwisgaar allowed.
“Uh, Toki, I don't think Charles wants us to KILL GUYS,” warned Nathan.
“Hims made Booms cry!” Toki repeated.
“But Boon is feeling better now,” Nathan pointed out, as he nervously eyed the demons now pressing around them.
“Boon an bedder, Wunky,” said Elias.
“An hims has no depreciation of da arts!” said Toki.
“Well,” said the demon, “you have to admit, it's an aesthetic travesty! He has mixed styles to the point of insipidity! It's a pastiche!”
“IT AMS NOT DA PATSIES!” Toki yelled.
“Toki!” shouted Charles, breathless from running up the stairs. “Whoa, did Boon do that?”
“Oh, this is quite remarkable!” agreed Ganesh, taking out his cell phone camera to capture his son's latest piece.
“Are you the parents?” inquired the demon.
“Yes!” said Ganesh proudly.
“Well, then you would think that,” muttered the demon, to Ganesh's scowl.
Ganesh was about to reply with something pithy when Charles grabbed his arm. “Uh, Ganesh. We got more to worry about than a demon art critic.”
Ganesh looked around. The once empty halls were now crawling with demons, several of them literally crawling.
“Toki,” Charles said, very softly, approaching the guitarist. “It's OK.”
“Da demons made Booms cry,” Toki choked, his eyes still red.
“Well, Toki, he shouldn't have done that. But Boon shouldn't have drawn on the wall.”
“No,” said Toki, now glancing at Charles.
“Were you watching him, Toki?”
“Wells....”
“You're a pretty crap guardian,” grinned the demon.
“SHUTS, UP, demons,” hissed Toki. Suddenly, something flashed in his eyes.
“Toki....” Charles whispered, backing off a step. He looked around, noticing the other demons pressing closer.
Suddenly, off in the distance, there was the sound of hoofbeats.
“WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?” boomed a voice.
Everyone turned.
A big green demon, wide as he was tall, strode up. He was dressed in a military uniform. Behind him scurried a smaller demon, knocking coconuts together to mimic the sound of hoofbeats.
The big green demon signaled to his assistant. "Whoa, Chitragupta!" The assistant clattered the coconuts one last time and whinnied.
“THINGS HAVE GOTTEN TOO SILLY!” boomed the green demon.
“Oh,” said Ganesh. “Er. Hello, Uncle Yama.”