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[zazz]

[When he enters the Plane he looks pretty ill about it. Either the trip made him woozy or it was whatever booze and/or pills he had consumed earlier that was making the trip feel like he was at sea. He slipped about on the floor, stumbling around in his underwear as he tried to get his bearings.]

Ooooh...Ohhhh...dat's space. [He fell onto all fours by accident, forehead against the floor-not-floor.] I'm pretty sure that that's--yeh, dat's space. I can tell, I know what space looks like. I can't believe I did it, like I-- [He swallows thickly, like he might be sick, but he manages to tap it down and get back to his feet.] Eugh...gettin'...gettin' space sick, heh. I discovered space walkin' and space sickness, shit, if I wasn't the richest fucker in the world already I'd be-- [He gets distracted by staring at a particularly nice and swirly galaxy, then he looks down at his empty hands.] Oh . . . oh no . . . I dropped the ham somewhere. That was good ham. Gaht it frahm the fridge.

[He turns as if to double back to look for his deli meat, but he only half turns and merely starts off down another direction, mumbling to himself.] Lookit me, m'in space. Pickles he drummer. Pickles the space drummer. Gaht to space by fuckin' magic. Heh, I'm fuckin' magic here, wait till I tell the odders, they'll be so--so jealous. I'll eat that ham in front of 'em as I tell 'em and they'll be all... [He stops, one arm akimbo and the other scratching his scalp.] Where the fuck did I drop my ham, gahdammit.

Comments

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan doesn't particularly register the situation. You know he's just probably sitting on a couch not doing anything when Pickles arrives on the plane. And somehow it just doesn't register as odd because oh hey it's Pickles.

Which, in fact, is almost exactly what he says.]

Oh, hey Pickles.

[Wait. Waaaait. Wait this isn't the living room. And that's when it dawns on him.]

Hey, motherfucker!

[Nathan grins, but doesn't get off the couch. Sorry, he's being Lord Nathan, Ruler of Couchlandia.]

Took you fucking long enough to get your ass up here.

[zazz]

[So intent on finding the ham he didn't notice the space couch or space Nathan, but like a true member of Dethklok he responds to HEY ASSHOLE, looking up and grinning back when he saw who it was. He veers in that direction.]

Hey, Nathan! What're yew--what're--have yew seen that ham? [Nope his mind decided that was more important right now. He stopped in front of Nathan and his couchdom.] That really good ham frahm the fridge? Dat we gaht frahm, like, Italy last week, remember? Drahpped it somewhere. Somewhere in fuckin' space, heh.

[onehundredbeers]

Uhhhhhh.

[Nathan contemplates this for the span of two seconds. He is pretty sure he did not see a ham sandwich within the last ten minutes, but then again it took him a moment to even acknowledge Pickles had suddenly just lurched into space.]

You might've left it at home, I don't know. Like. Put it down. Then came up here. And, uh, in the span of that time totally forgot you put the ham down?

[That sounds like a reasonable explanation. Nathan then shrugs as if that somehow made his explanation as to what happened to the sandwich the official one.]

[zazz]

[He deflates.] Dood. Was lookin' forward to that ham. [He takes a step aside and spins around to flop down onto the couch with Nathan, invading his couchdom. He slouches and sighs up at the stars then after like 15 seconds he remembers space and whumps Nathan in the arm.] Dood! We're in space, didn't yew notice that?!

[onehundredbeers]

[Pickles is practically second in line for ruler of Couchdom so the invasion is totally cool. And then Nathan gets whumped in the arm. He has no fucks to give about that whump at all.]

Uh, yeah. I've been fucking coming here for like. Three years. Two years.

[He is completely chill about this.]

[zazz]

[Probably because Pickles' whumps on Nathan are like a butterfly whumping into Nathan. But he was glad he could have partial control of the couch, because it made his space-drunk vertigo more manageable and less pukey.

Pickles looks even more distraught hearing this.]

So . . . so I didn't discover it? Or've I been wanderin' around here for 3 or 2 years and yew came lookin' fer me? Dood, that prahbly set the album back even more, I'm sahrry, I'm so sahrry I gaht lost in space, Nate. Should've jest let that ham goooo.

[onehundredbeers]

What- no, don't- Pickles, I've been the one coming here for three or two years.

[His voice is vaguely reassuring if only to keep Pickles from potentially having some sort of bizarre drunken meltdown over his tragic ham adventure that left him stranded in space for years. Which didn't happen.]

You just got here. Like. A few minutes ago. That's what's happening. You weren't, uh, wandering around. And I wasn't looking for you. I was... sitting here. That's- that is what I was doing.

[zazz]

[It worked, wasn't working himself up. It would have sucked for him to have been all pissy at Nathan about destroying the album only for himself to disappear for years. Hypocrisy, that.]

Sooo . . . I didn't discover space walking? Fuck... Then what's the point of even bein' here? Can't tell National Geographic I discovered space walk and get my picture taken with those topless babes they always have in there. No one cares aboot the second dood to discover shit, yanno. Like the second...second dood on the moon...what's his name...

[onehundredbeers]

Buzz Aldrin.

[Nathan knows his moon guys.]

And, yeah, you didn't. I, uh, didn't either. [He snorts.] You couldn't prove you're up here to anyone anyway. Like, okay, see, I've told you. About here. Like a bunch of times but you probably don't remember.

[zazz]

[He stares at Nathan, face screwing up in thought, trying to remember.]

Nyehhhhh...was I drunk when--? No, wait, I thaught...I thaught yew were jest talkin' about yer dreams and...lyrics and shit. Like yew do.

[onehundredbeers]

No. I was not. I was talking about space. [He crosses his arms, but it isn't combative or argumentative. It's more 'I have arms what should I do with them where do they go.']

But you couldn't come which is cause of some thing the guys who run space have. I totally tried to get them to get you to come here! But they were all 'sorry it doesn't work that way it's like randomly picking people to be eligible for space club membership'.

[zazz]

[Pickles just slouches further in the couch as he felt a little more down. He frowns heavily.]

Dat's no fair . . . I'm totally kewl . . . kewl enough fer space. Even 3 or 2 years ago. I mean, I'm in fuckin' Dethklahk, the hell is their prahblem, huh? They think they're better than Dethklahk??

[onehundredbeers]

I know. That you're cool. And it's not that they think they're, uh, better than us, Pickles? But it's like. It's like winning the lottery. It's totally fucking random and if you get picked you're like the luckiest fucking douchebag around.

[Nathan unfolds his arms to slowly rub the back of his own neck.]

So, uh... you won space lottery?

[zazz]

[He considers this alternative, and after a few seconds he stops looking like a depressed child and he nods.]

Yeh, yeh, okey, that makes a laht more sense. [A perkier, sloppy grin is on his face now and he looks up at Nathan expectantly.] So what else do we win? Spaceships? Half-naked alien sluts? Laser guuuuns?

[onehundredbeers]

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... no. To all of those.

[Being reminded that he doesn't have those things makes him frown a little. He had forgotten about those disappointments.]

We get, uh, the ability to come to space. It fucking stops time back home, so we could stay up here for like two weeks and no one would know we left since we'd... come back. Like exactly when we left. And, uh. There's a bar. And it's got infinite booze.

[What else is there that's worth note?]

And a kitchen. A space kitchen with infinite free food except we have to make it ourselves unless we convince someone else to make it for us.

[Nathan scratches his head.]

And nobody knows who we are except I told most of them who we are, but we can act like regular jackoffs if we want and not get bothered. Like on our own terms. That's- that's pretty cool sometimes.

[zazz]

Pfffft. We gaht nearly unlimited booze and a kitchen back home. We should demand laser guns to make it worth...worth our...time that I guess doesn't exist . . . here . . . [His head lolls to the side as he squints. That info is a little too much for him to process right now so he moves on.] But it's kewl we won't be bothered by all the dildo fans up here. No one askin' fer our autograph or to talk to their girlfriends on their phones and shit. [He rubs his nose.] Maybe we can get a Klahkateer up here to work the kitchen. Servants really shouldn't count for this space lottery shit.

[onehundredbeers]

Can't. Exclusive space club, remember? If you aren't fucking picked to come up here, you can't, you know... come up here.

[Nathan scuffs the spacefloor with his boot.]

I tried. Toki tried. Probably the other assholes up here tried.

[zazz]

Well, there yew go. [He points at him with a smirk.] Yer like Gahdzilla tryin' to finaygle somethin' and Toki prahbly offered candy as an incentive. Sugar free candy. Yanno how that tastes. Like someone--someone sucked all the joy outta the candy then shat on it. I'll talk to 'em, yanno how good I am at that.

[A beat, then.]

Wait, fuck, TOKI got here before me??

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan's frown becomes a little more pronounced. He thought he was doing better than Godzilla level... But anyway.]

Little fucker got here twice before you. He was fucking kicked out!

[zazz]

[Pickles is just drunk and exaggerating, don't mind him, Nathan.]

Why? Who would kick that kid outta anything? Dat's rude. [Nevermind they kicked him out of all sorts of things back home, but that's different, that's them, they can do that shit to other bandmates.]

[onehundredbeers]

I know.

[He frowns less as the conversation turns slightly towards vague doting on Toki while Toki isn't here.]

He wasn't even causing any trouble or anything! But, uh, I guess it works out that he forgot? That's apparently a thing. If you get kicked out of space, you forget you were even in space, so... he wasn't that upset about it. Until he got back in. Then he was, you know, kinda... him.

[Nathan's thoughtful.]

I had to promise to take him to get some ice cream so he'd stop being so upset.

[zazz]

[His head lolls more toward Nathan now, his smirk even wider at Nathan's telltale maternal side.

Yew spoil the shit outta him, yanno that?

[onehundredbeers]

[He looks to the side, away from Pickles, clearly caught in something truthful that he's totally going to deny.]

I do not. I have never. Once. Spoiled Toki.

[zazz]

Heh, reet, must be thinkin' of someone else that spoils the shit outta him. [Drunken beat of silence.] Hey. Hey, Nathan. Hey.

[onehundredbeers]

What?

[zazz]

Hey, Nathan.

[onehundredbeers]

...Yeah?

[zazz]

Will yew buy me ice cream.

[onehundredbeers]

Sure? I mean, I guess. Should I, I not be buying you ice cream or something.

[Man he just has to buy everyone ice cream. This is his life. Gettin' ice cream.]

[zazz]

Nah, jest wanted to see if yew would, heh. [Points at him again, urgently.] But that doesn't mean yew can't back out now!

[onehundredbeers]

[A very low sort of grumble as he gets pointed at.]

But just once! Because you know, if I take you to get ice cream, and you know someone notices, that means everyone will want to go get ice cream and then that's gonna to be our whole day. [A beat.] Trying to get ice cream.

[zazz]

Yey, secret ice cream trip. [He claps his hands once before they fall heavily into his lap and he resumes his lazy, drunk slouching, but a pleased grin on his face.] Fuckin' love ice cream. Might get me some rocky road. Or bubblegum. Definitely get some fuckin', yanno, sprinkles on there. You like sprinkles?

[bonnypiperlad]

[There's a rather confused young man in a kilt who happens across in the middle of all things. And while most of the confusion stems from him trying to figure out what it is that the man's saying, he is able to figure out there are two things missing from this picture, at least. Ham...and trousers. But he'll just ignore the lack of trousers for the moment on focus on the ham instead.]

There might be more ham in the kitchen, if ye want it that badly.

[zazz]

[He looks up from his search at the voice and blinks, one eye then the other, at the man in a skirt.]

There's a kitchen in space? That's dumb, whoever heard of that. [Snickers.] Besides, mahm always told me naht to accept ham frahm strange doods in skirts.

[bonnypiperlad]

[Well, that's one way to stop him from being confused. And to get him to start pulling faces, which he does, his lips pressing together and his mouth tugging off to one side.]

Look, I'll have ye know this is a kilt! Not a skirt.

[He may just be a wee bit touchy on that particular point.]

But, aye. There's a kitchen here. And a ballroom and one of those batting-cage things. You're not exactly in space, though.

Sorry for delay, I was out of town u///u

[zazz]

Heh, I know, s'jest fun to see yew guys get all worked up aboot it. Oh, noo, it's naht a skirt, I'm gonna tell on yewwww. [Yeah, that's not what Jamie even remotely said but whatever.]

[He points all over at the stars that are everywhere.] Dose are stars. Clearly. Clearly stars. We are in space. Batting cages ain't in space. [Beat, then a shrug.] I guess, I mean, I've never been in space before. Show me. Show me these space things, kilt alien.

alas the notifs/tags that get drowned under shitheads on youtube.

[onehundredbeers]

Uhhhhhhh. It depends on what kind we're talking about, I guess? Is it like, rainbow sprinkles or chocolate sprinkles?

[This is a serious fucking question here. There is totally a huge difference in the two types of sprinkles.]

:( it's okay we're still cool

[zazz]

[And you're going to have a serious fucking answer back. Pickles slowly narrowed his eyes, as if feeling this situation out, and said in a flat tone betraying no emotion or favor:]

Rainbow.

[onehundredbeers]

[This one is tough. Nathan in fact leans somewhat back on the couch, furrowing his brows in deep thought on this. This is some serious fucking business territory here and it does not warrant a hasty reply.]

Fuck. Uh. Okay, okay, I think I got this. If it's anything that already has chocolate in it. You have to go rainbow. That is. My answer.

[zazz]

[Pickles leaned back, too, slowly, but because his mind was just then well and truly blown. He uttered a low and drawn out "whoaaaah" as he did so.]

I never thaught aboot it like that, Nate. That's, like, really, really smart. Jeez.... Wow.

No worries!

[bonnypiperlad]

I know what stars are.

[He's still got that hrmph face going on, apparently not quite willing to stop being cranky about his kilt just yet.]

But we've not got to wear one of those space-suit things to breathe here, so we're in some sort of other space. Surrounded by stars, aye, but...och, never mind. The cages are this way.

And my name's Jamie. [Not kilt alien, thank you very much.] What were ye calling yourself earlier, anyway? Pickles?

Re: No worries!

[zazz]

Yeh, Pickles, Pickles the Drummer. Frahm Dethklahk. And yew said Jamie, reet? Heh, yew sure that ain't a skirt--KIDDING, I'M KIDDING. [He chucks him on the shoulder. See, just havin' fun.]

Yeh, dat's smart, dun get all scientific with me, too fuckin' drunk. But naht too fuckin' drunk for batting cages.

[bonnypiperlad]

[Jamie and scientific are two words that really don't tend to go together much at all, so scientific explanations aren't about to happen anytime, well, ever. Getting seriously annoyed over the continual kidding about the kilt might...if there hadn't happened to be something else that was said that catches Jamie's interest.]

Dethklok? Hey, I know that name! Ye must be a friend of Nathan and Toki's, then! Look, I've not seen Toki around lately, but Nathan's here. At least, he was, fairly recently.