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White Wolf - Eyes of the World
It was a blazing hot summer day when The-Wolf-Man-Sometimes-Known-As-Don-Wilk-And-Other-Times-Known-As-Don-Wolf-But-Will-Be-Henceforth-Known-As-Don-Wilk-Because-Don-Wolf-Is-Bald-And-A-Drama-Queen stepped out of his wolf-shapped igloo, a big smile on his wolven face.
A wind blew through the area and he quickly cried into it before heading off to go do some HOT YOGA in the woods. (Cam stayed back at home and listened to Ritchie Blackmore's guitar solos for 7,000 hours while drinking Deep Purple because this HOT YOGA ritual of Don Wilk's always creeped him out to no end.)
The spot where Don Wilk went to perform his HOT YOGA was secluded from the rest of the wilkerness. (Yes, I said 'wilkerness') There, he could be all alone. The very thought of which excited the Canadian wolfman because he was fucking obsessed with every aspect of the act of being 'alone'.
When Don Wilk got to his very favoritest spot in the woods where he could perform his HOT YOGA ritual, he noticed a small path leading off into the darkness he'd never seen there before.
He decided he needed to contemplate his options. So he stripped and in a flurry of fur and white and dawned his wolfskin outfit and creepy hair extensions. Once fully clothed, he let out a great cry with a shitload of vibrato and began to sit. And stare.
Don Wilk knew very well that since he was in Canada, many things could lie down that path. The Great Red Etienne was a thing that he feared the most, because he knew that if he ran into it, it would steal all his liquor and food. And there would be no stopping it, no matter how much wind he cried into and how long he sat alone by telephones.
Another thing was Francois The Ferret King and his legions of Canadian Ferrets, but usually they were too busy taking photo shoots to stalk around in the wilkerness.
Finally, with much vigor and vibrato, Don Wilk let out a mighty vibrato-riddled "OHHHHMMMMMM!!" and he trotted off down the path. Adventure, excitement and wolves exploded like bullets in his veins as he skipped along the path, humming his favorite Fandango tune.
Without warning, sun let out a tremendous scream of agony and horrible. The pain in the sun's scream could only be described by the Dark Overlord Mille. And only him. Not even Marco's Beard or Gary Barden would be able to aptly describe the pain emitted by the screaming sun.
Don Wilk screamed, his vibrato shooting up and cutting five birds in half. He fell to the ground and cowered in fear, quickly burying his head underground as he'd been taught by his parents; an ostrich.
Don Wilk wasn't sure how long he spent there with his head in the ground. He could only tell that time was ticking away using his advanced wolven brain cells and the watch Cam had shoved up his ear.
He was about to get up when he heard something moving. "Who goes there?" came a nasally voice from somewhere in the darkness.
Don Wilk let out a deep scream with enough vibrato to choke a biker gang. He ejected his head from the ground and began looking around frantically. "Who's there?!" he bleated, shedding anxiously.
"Aw, jeez, I didn't mean to scare ya. I-I was just wonderin who was here. I mean, not a lot of people come over this way and I was just kinda wonderin who actually would and I know--I know I seem kinda scary but really I'm not. I'm just a guy."
Don Wilk frantically reached into his pocket that didn't exist and whipped out a phone, brandishing it at the darkness. "Hands up, you sorry sight! I have a phone! I WILL NOT FEAR SITTING BY IT AND CRYING TO THE WIND! ALL ALONE!"
"Aw, jeez, don't do that. There's--There's no need for that!" As the words arose from the darkness, so did a lanky kid who was very fucking Canadian. He gave the nervous wolfman a smile and a wave. "Hey, I'm Jay. Baruchel. Maybe you've heard of me?"
(Thankfully, Don Wilk was both nocturnal and Canadian, so he could see in the dark. Jay is just Canadian -- as far as we know he does not possess any other species, other than Jew -- but this was enough to give him the ability to see perfectly in the dark)
The Drama Queen wolflike Don Wilk stared at the kid, gears in his brain turning, trying to figure out if he'd seen him before. Unfortunately, thoughts of wolves, phones and Joe Lynn Turner broke free from his brain and lodged themselves in the gears, causing them to FUCKING BLOW UP LIKE AN AIRPLANE IN DYNAMITE.
"Uhhhh..." he hissed, steam spewing out his nostrils.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Jay said with a shrug, not looking perturbed at all by the smoke leaking from Don Wilk's ears. "Well, maybe you can help me. I've been all alone wandering through here forever--"
"ALONE!?" Don Wilk screamed, his favorite word fucking his brain back into working order.
"Yes, a-alone," Jay stuttered, now starting to worry a bit about the strange wolf man. "Uh, well, I've been alone in here trying to find my way out. See, Marc Anthony was throwing a party and he kinda, well, destroyed the sunlight in this area. Wasn't good. I-I have a theory he stole it." He laughed with the sound of a maple leaf. "I need to save the sun, but I don't know how to do it all alone."
"ALOOOOOOOONE," Don Wilk howled, his vibrato taking over Bulgaria by force.
"Uh, yeah. Alone."
"Well." Don Wilk stepped up to the Canadian, extending a paw to him. "You smell of maple syrup and mounties, which is a scent only peaked in my heart by phones, Joe Lynn Turner and eyes. I would love to help you."
"Aw, jeez. It-It may be a war."
"Oh, don't you worry!" Don Wilk chortled. "I'm always wondering what the war will bring. I wonder that while I perform HOT YOGA."
A tree died.
Jay stared blankly. "H-Hot Yoga? Oh, jeez."
Don Wilk nodded with the power of all wolves ever. "Yes, I come into the woods all alone and perform HOT YOGA for hours."
A mother blew up.
"Um, well. That's great. Maybe it will help us. We have to go defeat Marc Anthony and rescue the sun!"
Don Wilk stared mournfully into the darkness for ten minutes until a wind blew through, allowing him to cry into it. "No sun, no more HOT YOGA," he pined.
Kinko's went out of business worldwide.
Just as the two were about to go into thinking mode, A GIANT SPANISH EXPLOSION TORE THROUGH WOODS JUST LIKE AN ARROW AND MADE ALL THE BIRDS BLOW UP.
In a blinding flash of LATIN, Marc Anthony appeared, a golden maraca in his hand. He brandished it at the two cowering Canadians. "I heard you want to overthrow me and take back the sun! You puny Canadians will never be able to do this! You do not have my Latin flavor!" he sang, the Bahamas flowing out of his ears. He smiled and invented Mountain Dew.
"What do we do?!" Don Wilk howled in panic to Jay.
Jay let out a strangled scream like a dying mapleleaftree and fell over. The Montreal Canadiens cried.
Don Wilk stared with his eyes.
"Now how will you win, insignificant Wolf Creature?!" Marc Anthony crooned. He waved his arms around, dancing in an enchanting Spanish manner that entranced Don Wilk's small brain.
Don Wilk sat. And stared. He couldn't take his eyes off the freaking glory that was Marc Anthony's beauty. He couldn't resist. He was entranced.
Just then, the entire Montreal Canadiens hockey team appeared. Jaroslav Spacek turned and raised his stick towards the stunned wolfman. "You must do this! For Canada! Think of all the maple trees that will die without the sun! The mounties who will never tan! It's up to you, young Wolfchild! We're all counting on you, eh!"
The Czechoslovakian Ice Master swept his stick towards Marc Anthony, temporarily freezing him with the power of the NHL minus the Redwings because they suck. He looked over his shoulder-pads at Don Wilk. "DON WILKWOLF!" he screamed, calling out the wolfchild's full name.
Slowly, Don Wilk felt the delicious power of Canada and rose from the ground, stumbling to his paws. He looked up with All England's Eyes (a trick he learned from his God, Bob Catley). "Marc Anthony, give the world back it's SUN!"
Don Wilk took in a deep breath, feeling the most outrageous bout of vibrato he'd ever felt in his Canadian body.
Marc Anthony stared on with Spain as Jay finally lifted his head, letting out a soft moan.
"GIVE BACK THE SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!!!"
AND IN A MIGHTY EXPLOSION OF MAPLE SYRUP, DON WILK ROSE UP FILLING WITH A MIGHTY POWER DRAWN FROM THE PLIGHT OF EVERYONE. HIS VIBRATO GREW AND GREW UNTIL IT SUDDENLY BUSTED OUT HIS EYES!!!!1!!1!
UUUAAAAaaaaAAAAaaaaaAAAAaaaaaAAAaaaaAAAAaaaaAAAAaaaAAAaaaAAAAA
Marc Anthony let out a mighty Spanish scream and as all the EYES OF THE WORLD watched, he shot up into the black sky and FUCKING BLEW UP INTO A FUCKING BALL OF BURNING MARACAS THAT TURNED INTO A NEW, BETTER, MORE SPICY SUN.
"Aw, jeez, wow," Jay spluttered as the Canadiens danced around him in a glorious Canadian ice ritual passed down through the ages via scripts carved in Dove Soap bars.
And that's how Don Wilk saved the world once again, with help from Jay Baruchel and the Montreal Canadiens. As well as the plight of the Earth. This is why, now, the sun is a bit spicier than you might remember and why its light shines brighter on the Great Planet of Canada.
And if you go out on a particularly sunny day, you might just hear....
'Cause I need to know
Girl you gotta let me know
Which way to go
'Cause I need to know
I need to know
Tell me baby girl
'Cause I need to know
I need to know
I need to know
Tell me baby girl
'Cause I need to know...
True story.
It was a blazing hot summer day when The-Wolf-Man-Sometimes-Known-As-Don-Wilk-And-Other-Times-Known-As-Don-Wolf-But-Will-Be-Henceforth-Known-As-Don-Wilk-Because-Don-Wolf-Is-Bald-And-A-Drama-Queen stepped out of his wolf-shapped igloo, a big smile on his wolven face.
A wind blew through the area and he quickly cried into it before heading off to go do some HOT YOGA in the woods. (Cam stayed back at home and listened to Ritchie Blackmore's guitar solos for 7,000 hours while drinking Deep Purple because this HOT YOGA ritual of Don Wilk's always creeped him out to no end.)
The spot where Don Wilk went to perform his HOT YOGA was secluded from the rest of the wilkerness. (Yes, I said 'wilkerness') There, he could be all alone. The very thought of which excited the Canadian wolfman because he was fucking obsessed with every aspect of the act of being 'alone'.
When Don Wilk got to his very favoritest spot in the woods where he could perform his HOT YOGA ritual, he noticed a small path leading off into the darkness he'd never seen there before.
He decided he needed to contemplate his options. So he stripped and in a flurry of fur and white and dawned his wolfskin outfit and creepy hair extensions. Once fully clothed, he let out a great cry with a shitload of vibrato and began to sit. And stare.
Don Wilk knew very well that since he was in Canada, many things could lie down that path. The Great Red Etienne was a thing that he feared the most, because he knew that if he ran into it, it would steal all his liquor and food. And there would be no stopping it, no matter how much wind he cried into and how long he sat alone by telephones.
Another thing was Francois The Ferret King and his legions of Canadian Ferrets, but usually they were too busy taking photo shoots to stalk around in the wilkerness.
Finally, with much vigor and vibrato, Don Wilk let out a mighty vibrato-riddled "OHHHHMMMMMM!!" and he trotted off down the path. Adventure, excitement and wolves exploded like bullets in his veins as he skipped along the path, humming his favorite Fandango tune.
Without warning, sun let out a tremendous scream of agony and horrible. The pain in the sun's scream could only be described by the Dark Overlord Mille. And only him. Not even Marco's Beard or Gary Barden would be able to aptly describe the pain emitted by the screaming sun.
Don Wilk screamed, his vibrato shooting up and cutting five birds in half. He fell to the ground and cowered in fear, quickly burying his head underground as he'd been taught by his parents; an ostrich.
Don Wilk wasn't sure how long he spent there with his head in the ground. He could only tell that time was ticking away using his advanced wolven brain cells and the watch Cam had shoved up his ear.
He was about to get up when he heard something moving. "Who goes there?" came a nasally voice from somewhere in the darkness.
Don Wilk let out a deep scream with enough vibrato to choke a biker gang. He ejected his head from the ground and began looking around frantically. "Who's there?!" he bleated, shedding anxiously.
"Aw, jeez, I didn't mean to scare ya. I-I was just wonderin who was here. I mean, not a lot of people come over this way and I was just kinda wonderin who actually would and I know--I know I seem kinda scary but really I'm not. I'm just a guy."
Don Wilk frantically reached into his pocket that didn't exist and whipped out a phone, brandishing it at the darkness. "Hands up, you sorry sight! I have a phone! I WILL NOT FEAR SITTING BY IT AND CRYING TO THE WIND! ALL ALONE!"
"Aw, jeez, don't do that. There's--There's no need for that!" As the words arose from the darkness, so did a lanky kid who was very fucking Canadian. He gave the nervous wolfman a smile and a wave. "Hey, I'm Jay. Baruchel. Maybe you've heard of me?"
(Thankfully, Don Wilk was both nocturnal and Canadian, so he could see in the dark. Jay is just Canadian -- as far as we know he does not possess any other species, other than Jew -- but this was enough to give him the ability to see perfectly in the dark)
The Drama Queen wolflike Don Wilk stared at the kid, gears in his brain turning, trying to figure out if he'd seen him before. Unfortunately, thoughts of wolves, phones and Joe Lynn Turner broke free from his brain and lodged themselves in the gears, causing them to FUCKING BLOW UP LIKE AN AIRPLANE IN DYNAMITE.
"Uhhhh..." he hissed, steam spewing out his nostrils.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Jay said with a shrug, not looking perturbed at all by the smoke leaking from Don Wilk's ears. "Well, maybe you can help me. I've been all alone wandering through here forever--"
"ALONE!?" Don Wilk screamed, his favorite word fucking his brain back into working order.
"Yes, a-alone," Jay stuttered, now starting to worry a bit about the strange wolf man. "Uh, well, I've been alone in here trying to find my way out. See, Marc Anthony was throwing a party and he kinda, well, destroyed the sunlight in this area. Wasn't good. I-I have a theory he stole it." He laughed with the sound of a maple leaf. "I need to save the sun, but I don't know how to do it all alone."
"ALOOOOOOOONE," Don Wilk howled, his vibrato taking over Bulgaria by force.
"Uh, yeah. Alone."
"Well." Don Wilk stepped up to the Canadian, extending a paw to him. "You smell of maple syrup and mounties, which is a scent only peaked in my heart by phones, Joe Lynn Turner and eyes. I would love to help you."
"Aw, jeez. It-It may be a war."
"Oh, don't you worry!" Don Wilk chortled. "I'm always wondering what the war will bring. I wonder that while I perform HOT YOGA."
A tree died.
Jay stared blankly. "H-Hot Yoga? Oh, jeez."
Don Wilk nodded with the power of all wolves ever. "Yes, I come into the woods all alone and perform HOT YOGA for hours."
A mother blew up.
"Um, well. That's great. Maybe it will help us. We have to go defeat Marc Anthony and rescue the sun!"
Don Wilk stared mournfully into the darkness for ten minutes until a wind blew through, allowing him to cry into it. "No sun, no more HOT YOGA," he pined.
Kinko's went out of business worldwide.
Just as the two were about to go into thinking mode, A GIANT SPANISH EXPLOSION TORE THROUGH WOODS JUST LIKE AN ARROW AND MADE ALL THE BIRDS BLOW UP.
In a blinding flash of LATIN, Marc Anthony appeared, a golden maraca in his hand. He brandished it at the two cowering Canadians. "I heard you want to overthrow me and take back the sun! You puny Canadians will never be able to do this! You do not have my Latin flavor!" he sang, the Bahamas flowing out of his ears. He smiled and invented Mountain Dew.
"What do we do?!" Don Wilk howled in panic to Jay.
Jay let out a strangled scream like a dying mapleleaftree and fell over. The Montreal Canadiens cried.
Don Wilk stared with his eyes.
"Now how will you win, insignificant Wolf Creature?!" Marc Anthony crooned. He waved his arms around, dancing in an enchanting Spanish manner that entranced Don Wilk's small brain.
Don Wilk sat. And stared. He couldn't take his eyes off the freaking glory that was Marc Anthony's beauty. He couldn't resist. He was entranced.
Just then, the entire Montreal Canadiens hockey team appeared. Jaroslav Spacek turned and raised his stick towards the stunned wolfman. "You must do this! For Canada! Think of all the maple trees that will die without the sun! The mounties who will never tan! It's up to you, young Wolfchild! We're all counting on you, eh!"
The Czechoslovakian Ice Master swept his stick towards Marc Anthony, temporarily freezing him with the power of the NHL minus the Redwings because they suck. He looked over his shoulder-pads at Don Wilk. "DON WILKWOLF!" he screamed, calling out the wolfchild's full name.
Slowly, Don Wilk felt the delicious power of Canada and rose from the ground, stumbling to his paws. He looked up with All England's Eyes (a trick he learned from his God, Bob Catley). "Marc Anthony, give the world back it's SUN!"
Don Wilk took in a deep breath, feeling the most outrageous bout of vibrato he'd ever felt in his Canadian body.
Marc Anthony stared on with Spain as Jay finally lifted his head, letting out a soft moan.
"GIVE BACK THE SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!!!"
AND IN A MIGHTY EXPLOSION OF MAPLE SYRUP, DON WILK ROSE UP FILLING WITH A MIGHTY POWER DRAWN FROM THE PLIGHT OF EVERYONE. HIS VIBRATO GREW AND GREW UNTIL IT SUDDENLY BUSTED OUT HIS EYES!!!!1!!1!
UUUAAAAaaaaAAAAaaaaaAAAAaaaaaAAAaaaaAAAAaaaaAAAAaaaAAAaaaAAAAA
Marc Anthony let out a mighty Spanish scream and as all the EYES OF THE WORLD watched, he shot up into the black sky and FUCKING BLEW UP INTO A FUCKING BALL OF BURNING MARACAS THAT TURNED INTO A NEW, BETTER, MORE SPICY SUN.
"Aw, jeez, wow," Jay spluttered as the Canadiens danced around him in a glorious Canadian ice ritual passed down through the ages via scripts carved in Dove Soap bars.
And that's how Don Wilk saved the world once again, with help from Jay Baruchel and the Montreal Canadiens. As well as the plight of the Earth. This is why, now, the sun is a bit spicier than you might remember and why its light shines brighter on the Great Planet of Canada.
And if you go out on a particularly sunny day, you might just hear....
'Cause I need to know
Girl you gotta let me know
Which way to go
'Cause I need to know
I need to know
Tell me baby girl
'Cause I need to know
I need to know
I need to know
Tell me baby girl
'Cause I need to know...
True story.
......................So I do these things on Tumblr......
Some people may say I have no life, I say I like pie.
Obviously nothing in that gorgeous picture is mine, though I did take the time to put that together. Now it's taking up valuable space on the internet cause I'm a rebel.
Don Wilk is the singer of White Wolf. Don't you love how Marc Anthony isn't Spanish?
For more madness and Shawn Drover...
Tumblr - [link]
I love pudding.
©2008-2011 VikingSlug Productions inc.
Some people may say I have no life, I say I like pie.
Obviously nothing in that gorgeous picture is mine, though I did take the time to put that together. Now it's taking up valuable space on the internet cause I'm a rebel.
Don Wilk is the singer of White Wolf. Don't you love how Marc Anthony isn't Spanish?
For more madness and Shawn Drover...
Tumblr - [link]
I love pudding.
©2008-2011 VikingSlug Productions inc.
© 2011 - 2024 zombiepencil
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Once upon a time, there was a rainbowwy werewolflet of bluesy metal named Zodiac.
One day, when she woke up on a lovely Wednesday morning at noon, she heard the
most horrible vibrato of awesome ever. It made her cry so hard that she bled out her ears.
Mark Kendall had even left before she even woke up, and Jackjuice of amazingly shark-infested
epicness had also left, so had Michelangelo, Crazy Audie, and Hell, Lorne was off being his drama
queen self, idk.
Zodiac cried out in a long, bluesy solo that made the sky frown and the sun blacken into night.
Stevie Ray Vaughan and Buddy Guy played so sadly and awesomely that it made Nikki Sixx
want a teddy bear and maybe his best friend Vinceh. But he never told anyone that part. He would KILL
before that happened.
Soon, all of Iron Falls was dark and Jon Anderson could not worship the sun or enjoy his
tea cakes or make fun of Kirk Hammet or Ian Scott. And now he couldn't his iced tea
like a proper british progrocker with his pinky out, whilst laughing hautily at said thrashjammers.
Dio coughed. Then he spilled the punch and got mad, so the sky turned PURPLE.
"Damn ittt. What the hell was that shit? :/" Zodiac sniffed as rain began to fall
like crystal stars on her black pelt. She smelled HOT YOGA and knew the apocalypse had
already begun.
she howled to shut up whoever had made this horrible sound like a monstrous
squeaky doorhinge crossed with Joneseh when he stubbed his toe last Tuesday on the shower
tiles.
"KDASNCFD AAAAH JUDAS FACKING PRIEST." She flailed and screamed pathetically as Rob Halford
and Angry pissy glennface dug a tunnel to the center of the earth to hide their cornflakes in (mainly
so creepy Cozeh couldn't get them) and so they could hide from the HOT YOGA HOWLAGE OF
DEATH THAT WAS CRUSHING EVERYTHING including David Mustaine's epic Axe.
After a while, Zodiac pretty much was out.
Dave got angrier.
It started raining boxes of fancy pasta no one could pronounce.
Jake E. Lee forgot how to do that cool sidesweep thing.
Don Dokken forgot his chicken and his house BURNED.
Dave got angrier. He got that cute little angry smirk he always gets when he's mad.
After Steven Pearcey decided to stab his brain with a pitchfork because the HOT YOGA drove him
up the wall, the ground heaved and A GIANT STATUE of the golden Grahams Bear rose up.
Slash decided it was over. He cried and filled his hat with his tears. It was pretty pathetic.
In fact, Steve Harris laughed at it until the HOT YOGA vaporised his bass and he helped Slash
fill the hat with his own epic bass tears. It sounded pretty cool until the HOT YOGA dried it all
up.
Brett Michaels and Sammy Hagar admitted they was kinda suckish. Rikki screamed and kinda fake laughed.
Dave got even madder. Soon his face looked like a squished up roadmap, only moar badass.
The whole of Kix was stuck in between a giant underwear ad, and a huge brick wall made of toffee.
For once, Steve had nothing to sing about. He sighed. 10/10 became only 3/10. Tragedy.
Dave got so mad that the sky was drenched with BLOOD and the HOT YOGA stopped.
But he wasn't done yet. He screamed his Metal Might over it and it died.
Then Dave smiled. He laughed kinda evilly and told Rob that he won. He was too busy whipping
Cozeh for finding his stash of cornflakes.
Soon, Iron Falls got back to normal. Jon Anderson continued laughing haughitly, Steve Vai
made his guitar recite Shakespeare once more, and Zodiac clung to Jack for dear life.
Mark laughed snarkily.
Later he got hit in the head with a whole fried chicken.
This totally happened.
One day, when she woke up on a lovely Wednesday morning at noon, she heard the
most horrible vibrato of awesome ever. It made her cry so hard that she bled out her ears.
Mark Kendall had even left before she even woke up, and Jackjuice of amazingly shark-infested
epicness had also left, so had Michelangelo, Crazy Audie, and Hell, Lorne was off being his drama
queen self, idk.
Zodiac cried out in a long, bluesy solo that made the sky frown and the sun blacken into night.
Stevie Ray Vaughan and Buddy Guy played so sadly and awesomely that it made Nikki Sixx
want a teddy bear and maybe his best friend Vinceh. But he never told anyone that part. He would KILL
before that happened.
Soon, all of Iron Falls was dark and Jon Anderson could not worship the sun or enjoy his
tea cakes or make fun of Kirk Hammet or Ian Scott. And now he couldn't his iced tea
like a proper british progrocker with his pinky out, whilst laughing hautily at said thrashjammers.
Dio coughed. Then he spilled the punch and got mad, so the sky turned PURPLE.
"Damn ittt. What the hell was that shit? :/" Zodiac sniffed as rain began to fall
like crystal stars on her black pelt. She smelled HOT YOGA and knew the apocalypse had
already begun.
she howled to shut up whoever had made this horrible sound like a monstrous
squeaky doorhinge crossed with Joneseh when he stubbed his toe last Tuesday on the shower
tiles.
"KDASNCFD AAAAH JUDAS FACKING PRIEST." She flailed and screamed pathetically as Rob Halford
and Angry pissy glennface dug a tunnel to the center of the earth to hide their cornflakes in (mainly
so creepy Cozeh couldn't get them) and so they could hide from the HOT YOGA HOWLAGE OF
DEATH THAT WAS CRUSHING EVERYTHING including David Mustaine's epic Axe.
After a while, Zodiac pretty much was out.
Dave got angrier.
It started raining boxes of fancy pasta no one could pronounce.
Jake E. Lee forgot how to do that cool sidesweep thing.
Don Dokken forgot his chicken and his house BURNED.
Dave got angrier. He got that cute little angry smirk he always gets when he's mad.
After Steven Pearcey decided to stab his brain with a pitchfork because the HOT YOGA drove him
up the wall, the ground heaved and A GIANT STATUE of the golden Grahams Bear rose up.
Slash decided it was over. He cried and filled his hat with his tears. It was pretty pathetic.
In fact, Steve Harris laughed at it until the HOT YOGA vaporised his bass and he helped Slash
fill the hat with his own epic bass tears. It sounded pretty cool until the HOT YOGA dried it all
up.
Brett Michaels and Sammy Hagar admitted they was kinda suckish. Rikki screamed and kinda fake laughed.
Dave got even madder. Soon his face looked like a squished up roadmap, only moar badass.
The whole of Kix was stuck in between a giant underwear ad, and a huge brick wall made of toffee.
For once, Steve had nothing to sing about. He sighed. 10/10 became only 3/10. Tragedy.
Dave got so mad that the sky was drenched with BLOOD and the HOT YOGA stopped.
But he wasn't done yet. He screamed his Metal Might over it and it died.
Then Dave smiled. He laughed kinda evilly and told Rob that he won. He was too busy whipping
Cozeh for finding his stash of cornflakes.
Soon, Iron Falls got back to normal. Jon Anderson continued laughing haughitly, Steve Vai
made his guitar recite Shakespeare once more, and Zodiac clung to Jack for dear life.
Mark laughed snarkily.
Later he got hit in the head with a whole fried chicken.
This totally happened.