Tuesday

"We can't play this song anymore," Doom stated as plain as he could, not letting the undertones of sadness, which could be misconstrued as vulnerability, be apparent.

"Why not?" pleaded Otto the now new bass player. It was the only song he could actually remember how to play every time.

“I think every other time we play “Nightfall's Embrace,” it summons this dickhead. This song, but only every other time and only if we play it after “Frostbitten Sky.” We can't risk it anymore. If we play this song, we have to deal with this dickhead troll."

"Hey guys, remember I'm in the room you fucking jerks," said Curtis sitting on the disused amp sitting in the corner.

Cartoon steam rolled out of Doom’s ears. He was at wits end with Curtis and couldn't stand him. He hated everything about him. He hated that he hated everything about him, because he knew reflexively that if he hated him so much he thought about him, and if he thought about him he took up space in his brain which he hated.

"I mean seriously guys, why are you doing this to yourselves?"

"Fuck you troll,” Maniacal returned.

"No, fuck you. Answer the fucking question tubby."

Maniacal didn't like the crack Curtis had been noodling his way into recently about his weight. He knew that he knew it got to him. He was starting to get braver and braver with the comments.

"It's the music asshole. We all love this fucking music. Why else would we be doing this shit? For the girls? The glory? You think I like being a virgin? No girl will touch me and everyone knows that no girls listen to this shit. How the fuck am I ever going to get laid? You want to tell me Mr. Troll-fuck? Huh?" Dethcrusher screamed. He was now shaking. It was the first time Doom and Maniacal had ever seen any emotion out of him, much less more than 5 words a day.

“You guys, you know, hate to break it to you, but you’re failing at making loser music.”

"What do you know?" they asked in unison. It was now an established routine to swear at him to his face.

"What do you mean what I did you to you?" Curtis replied.

"What did you do to us?" repeated Doom again, not sure if he had actually said anything out loud.

"I heard you. Jeez. Listen so we drank a bit the other night. The llama, that was on you. No big deal. You guys can't really handle your booze can you?" Curtis said, shuffling his feet a bit, scratching the polished concrete basement floor with his curled, shiny, red boots.

"Wine is for girls."

"I am a girl."

“Wait….whaaa…….the fuck?”

“Duh. And you wonder why I hate this fucking music.”

“You're a troll.”

“No shit.”

“You talk like a man troll. Your name is Curtis.”

“How do you know what a man troll sounds like and how do you know what sort of names we have?”

“I have my ideas.”

“Oh really? Well you want to check?”

“Obviously not.”

“If we keep on playing this music will you go away like every other girl?”

“Hmm, good question,” answered Curtis nodding.