The Lay of Sigurd: Remixed Part VI c.
After I had sung my surprisingly brilliant song Johan stood and spoke, "F
ucking hell, dude! You are truly the most righteous motherf
ucker in all the land! I wouldn't ask this of just any dude, but you are obviously a True Metalhead of the highest caliber and would defend the True Faith with every bone in your body. There's a f
ucking shadow lying over the land, man. For the last year the poseur armies of Metallica have been ravaging this land. They intend to overthrow this kingdom of True Metal and plunge it into the darkness of poseurdom. It's f
uckin' bulls
hit! We've managed to throw them back 'til now, but our armies have been decimated, and now Metallica is coming with a bigass f
ucking host. But we've built this kingdom with our blood, sweat, and tears, and we're not about to let the cause of True Metal die without a fight! Tomorrow I will ride with five thousand men, the last of our strength, to the fortress of Wacken to mount one final stand against the poseurs and to lay down my life as a Defender of the Faith. Even though we're f
ucked and I can promise you nothing but almost certain death and that Rhapsody with probably make a concept album about us, will you stand with us to defend True Metal?" I felt something welling up in my breast at that moment. I think that it was what some might call "Giving a s
hit." In any case I am a True Metalhead; a Defender of the Faith 'til the day I die, and I wasn't about to let Metallica do any more damage to True Metal than they already had. So I stood up and declared, "Man, f
uck Metallica! I've been tryin' to kill those s
hit stabbers for years and an army of poseurs is just a bonus. I'd lay down my life for True Metal any day of the f
uckin' week, so I'll ride with you to the ends of the Earth." Understandably tearing up at my magnanimity, Johan proclaimed, "Kick ass! The army rides to battle at dawn, and you shall ride with me at its head. I pledge blood brotherhood with you, my friend, and will stand for you as you stand for me." Now also weeping openly I said, "Hell yeah, dude!" We then cut our palms on our swords and let the blood flow into a goblet which we both drank from, sealing our pact. Unfortunately, I didn't have the heart to tell him that he now had Herpes. After this there was much rejoicing. Mead was drunk, weed was smoked, and wenches were slain. Figuratively speaking of course. The next morning epic shiznit was about to go down.
To Be Continued...