Sunday, October 21, 2007
Fiction Outtake: Anonymous (Deadly Metal Hatchet)
I'll post links to past Deadly Metal Hatchet pieces, as this may be a bit of a jolt for those of you used to Trevor and his antics. The Hatchet is a young, up-and-coming band made up of four guys: Fozzy, Lido, Gecko, and Scott. They have a gimmick: the Deadly Metal Hatchet they are named after.
At any rate, as Halloween approaches, many of us are turning our thoughts to scary things. Here's one for you, and I'm not talking about what the Hatchet gets up to.
Days like this were too nice to be inside. And it wasn't like they could smoke inside anyway; those new rules about smoking were made by assholes in suits. Scott wished Fozzy could turn the Hatchet loose on them and the other upright and moral folk who'd decided that smoking was evil. Man, the world would have a few hundred million less assholes if he could.
The four of them were sitting on the curb outside the club, laminates on, blending in. Everyone else who milled around wore cargo shorts and black t-shirts, too. They were just four more guys sitting there, catching a smoke, not talking, soaking in the day and the nicotine rush.
"So what're we gonna play tonight?" Gecko asked.
Fozzy shook his head. "Too early to do setlist."
"Why are we wasting time with this talk again?" Scott asked. He sat back and adjusted his shorts. "We do the same fricken set for every same fricken show. Why don't we just own up to that already and quit with the stupid setlist discussions?"
Fozzy screwed his face up. "It's not like we have more than twelve songs in the first place."
"…and time to play ten of 'em. Why don't we ever play those last two?" Gecko asked. He ground out his cigarette on the curb beside him.
As he reached for the can of Coke he'd brought outside with him, two long-haired guys approached. They wore the code: black t-shirts, dirty flannel shirts thrown over top, cargo shorts, workboots left unlaced. "Hey, man, know where we can find Deadly Metal Hatchet?"
Gecko and Fozzy exchanged uneasy looks. Lido cleared his throat.
"Yeah," the other guy said. "We want to hang with the Hatchet. We figure that when they make it big, we'll be able to tell everyone we knew 'em when."
Scott adjusted his shorts again; maybe it was time to find a laundromat already. "Got any clue who you're looking for?"
The first guy, the one in the dingy red flannel, shifted his weight. "Deadly Metal Hatchet."
"Yeah, we know," Scott said. "But do you know what they look like?"
Red Flannel shifted his weight again. "Don't they wear shirts with the Hatchet on 'em?"
Gecko smothered a laugh with his fist. Fozzy looked around. No one, band nor crew, was wearing anything with the Hatchet on it. Except their laminates, but then again, every person involved with the tour wore one of those.
"So," the guy in the brown flannel said, "know where we can find 'em?"
"How can you be fans if you don't know what they look like?" Scott asked.
The kid in red shrugged. "We're not fans. Not really."
"We think they suck," the kid in brown said. "But one day, they'll get big and we'll be able to say we hung with them."
Scott covered his face with his hand. Fozzy stood up; Lido jumped to his feet and the two went inside.
"Should we?" Gecko asked. "I mean, the band may not like it."
"Fuck the band," Scott said, wondering what the fricken hell he was saying. "They don't need losers like you two."
He and Gecko walked inside, shaking their heads.
"You join a fricken band to get noticed," Scott said in the safety of the
band's dressing room. "Not to get told you suck."
"At least they think we'll be someone," Lido said.
"Dude, we already are," Fozzy said. He ripped a sign off the wall and started drawing.
In short time, the Hatchet had gone to work on two guys in flannel: one red, one brown.
The members of Deadly Metal Hatchet cheered.
Some past links with the Hatchet:
Intro
Thirteen Hatchet Victims
Chelle and the Hatchet
At any rate, as Halloween approaches, many of us are turning our thoughts to scary things. Here's one for you, and I'm not talking about what the Hatchet gets up to.
Days like this were too nice to be inside. And it wasn't like they could smoke inside anyway; those new rules about smoking were made by assholes in suits. Scott wished Fozzy could turn the Hatchet loose on them and the other upright and moral folk who'd decided that smoking was evil. Man, the world would have a few hundred million less assholes if he could.
The four of them were sitting on the curb outside the club, laminates on, blending in. Everyone else who milled around wore cargo shorts and black t-shirts, too. They were just four more guys sitting there, catching a smoke, not talking, soaking in the day and the nicotine rush.
"So what're we gonna play tonight?" Gecko asked.
Fozzy shook his head. "Too early to do setlist."
"Why are we wasting time with this talk again?" Scott asked. He sat back and adjusted his shorts. "We do the same fricken set for every same fricken show. Why don't we just own up to that already and quit with the stupid setlist discussions?"
Fozzy screwed his face up. "It's not like we have more than twelve songs in the first place."
"…and time to play ten of 'em. Why don't we ever play those last two?" Gecko asked. He ground out his cigarette on the curb beside him.
As he reached for the can of Coke he'd brought outside with him, two long-haired guys approached. They wore the code: black t-shirts, dirty flannel shirts thrown over top, cargo shorts, workboots left unlaced. "Hey, man, know where we can find Deadly Metal Hatchet?"
Gecko and Fozzy exchanged uneasy looks. Lido cleared his throat.
"Yeah," the other guy said. "We want to hang with the Hatchet. We figure that when they make it big, we'll be able to tell everyone we knew 'em when."
Scott adjusted his shorts again; maybe it was time to find a laundromat already. "Got any clue who you're looking for?"
The first guy, the one in the dingy red flannel, shifted his weight. "Deadly Metal Hatchet."
"Yeah, we know," Scott said. "But do you know what they look like?"
Red Flannel shifted his weight again. "Don't they wear shirts with the Hatchet on 'em?"
Gecko smothered a laugh with his fist. Fozzy looked around. No one, band nor crew, was wearing anything with the Hatchet on it. Except their laminates, but then again, every person involved with the tour wore one of those.
"So," the guy in the brown flannel said, "know where we can find 'em?"
"How can you be fans if you don't know what they look like?" Scott asked.
The kid in red shrugged. "We're not fans. Not really."
"We think they suck," the kid in brown said. "But one day, they'll get big and we'll be able to say we hung with them."
Scott covered his face with his hand. Fozzy stood up; Lido jumped to his feet and the two went inside.
"Should we?" Gecko asked. "I mean, the band may not like it."
"Fuck the band," Scott said, wondering what the fricken hell he was saying. "They don't need losers like you two."
He and Gecko walked inside, shaking their heads.
"You join a fricken band to get noticed," Scott said in the safety of the
band's dressing room. "Not to get told you suck."
"At least they think we'll be someone," Lido said.
"Dude, we already are," Fozzy said. He ripped a sign off the wall and started drawing.
In short time, the Hatchet had gone to work on two guys in flannel: one red, one brown.
The members of Deadly Metal Hatchet cheered.
Some past links with the Hatchet:
Intro
Thirteen Hatchet Victims
Chelle and the Hatchet
Labels: Deadly Metal Hatchet, fans, fiction, outtake, Poetry Train, touring
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Thursday Thirteen #41 -- True fans
Last week, I listed stereotypes of ShapeShifter fans. Many of you identified in one way or another with the list; it's pretty universal.
This week, it gets more challenging. Are you a true fan if you don't fit any of these thirteen things? Absolutely.
Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
This week, it gets more challenging. Are you a true fan if you don't fit any of these thirteen things? Absolutely.
 |
| 1. They are surprisingly different -- from the stereotypes and from each other. 2. A number of them are intelligent and/or highly successful in careers you might not expect right off the bat. 3. Many of them listen to a large variety of music -- not only hard rock, metal, or whatever you'd like to call it this week. 4. The die-hards are as devoted to ShapeShifter as a pit bull is to its master. 5. Many of them feel that they don't fit in anywhere but here. 6. Many of them come from abusive or otherwise hurt backgrounds. 7. Not all the girls come around because the ShapeShifter guys are cute. Some of them are into the music, plain and simple. 8. They're not defined by their physical appearance (refer to last week's list to see what I mean). 9. Many of them draw their inner strength from the music. The tales of how and when they did this make for frequent backstage appearance stories. 10. Many of them feel that Mitchell's lyrics were written just for them. They wonder how he got it so right. 11. Many will go into debt and/or bankrupt themselves in order to see ShapeShifter perform all over the world. What an excuse to travel! 12. Many of them feel instant affinities toward each other, as though they are fellow members of an otherwise secret club. Relationships are forged, weddings are celebrated all because of ShapeShifter. 13. Mitchell, Daniel, Trevor, and Eric are popular names for the children of ShapeShifter fans. Go figure. |
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
Labels: fans, meme, Thursday Thirteen
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Thursday Thirteen #40 -- Fans
Nope, not the type that keep you cool, although I could use some of those right now. More to the point, ShapeShifter fans and the false impressions we make about them, at least on the surface.
Think about it. You know people like this. And you know people like me, who you'd never peg as a ShapeShifter fan until we open our mouths.
Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
Think about it. You know people like this. And you know people like me, who you'd never peg as a ShapeShifter fan until we open our mouths.
 |
| 1. (the boys) Long-haired (but not necessarily dirty) 2. denim-jacket wearing 3. super tight jeans 4. dirty white basketball shoes that are perpetually unlaced 5. stoned and/or drunk 6. entranced by themes of skulls, death, and dying 7. (the girls): hot, horny, and willing 8. short, tight skirts 9. Hair not necessarily big (that's too glam for ShapeShifter) but long and mane-like 10. bitchy to each other 11. (all): smokers 12. dysfunctional, anti-social, depressed 13. not real smart |
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
Labels: fans, meme, stereotypes, Thursday Thirteen
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Another outtake
This scene is fun, but it's struck a lot of my road crew as being out of character. Trevor being noble where Kerri is concerned?
They have a very good point, so here it is for you now.
When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he could focus on was some guy standing below the bar, giving Rusty lewd looks. For some reason, the over-protective Mitchell wasn't clued in. And Rusty, of course, was returning those looks with an uncomprehending stare that any horny idiot would take as an invitation.
"Can you tell him to pass her my way when he's done?" the guy yelled up. He gave Rusty another ogle and winked at Trevor.
"She's Mitchell's." He held his own girl more tightly to his side; there was no way that dick was going to get ideas about her next. Not until he'd spent at least one really hot night with her.
"So? Keep a girl like that for yourself and I'll never buy another of your records again!"
Before he could think, Trevor had let go of his girl and launched himself at the dick. He landed square, forcing them both to the floor and scattering the crowd -- not entirely gracefully. A few innocents went down, a girl screamed in horror at the filth on the floor, and before he'd had a chance to throw a punch, someone was pulling the dick out from under him. That, of course, forced him to his feet.
"What the fuck?" he yelled, determined to get out of this one. "What the fuck just happened here? One second, I'm on the bar with my girl and the next I'm on top of you? Asshole, I oughta…" He trailed off as Eric pulled him another step back.
People started congratulating him on a great fight, and he strained to hear sirens wailing over the noise of the club. If they weren't on the way, he'd gotten away with one all right -- but for what? Rusty's honor?
That girl had none.
They have a very good point, so here it is for you now.
When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he could focus on was some guy standing below the bar, giving Rusty lewd looks. For some reason, the over-protective Mitchell wasn't clued in. And Rusty, of course, was returning those looks with an uncomprehending stare that any horny idiot would take as an invitation.
"Can you tell him to pass her my way when he's done?" the guy yelled up. He gave Rusty another ogle and winked at Trevor.
"She's Mitchell's." He held his own girl more tightly to his side; there was no way that dick was going to get ideas about her next. Not until he'd spent at least one really hot night with her.
"So? Keep a girl like that for yourself and I'll never buy another of your records again!"
Before he could think, Trevor had let go of his girl and launched himself at the dick. He landed square, forcing them both to the floor and scattering the crowd -- not entirely gracefully. A few innocents went down, a girl screamed in horror at the filth on the floor, and before he'd had a chance to throw a punch, someone was pulling the dick out from under him. That, of course, forced him to his feet.
"What the fuck?" he yelled, determined to get out of this one. "What the fuck just happened here? One second, I'm on the bar with my girl and the next I'm on top of you? Asshole, I oughta…" He trailed off as Eric pulled him another step back.
People started congratulating him on a great fight, and he strained to hear sirens wailing over the noise of the club. If they weren't on the way, he'd gotten away with one all right -- but for what? Rusty's honor?
That girl had none.
Labels: creative writing, fans, fiction, Kerri, outtake, Trevor
