Work Text:
Toki Wartooth's first birthday after joining Dethklok was a celebration of all the birthdays he never experienced as a child. As member of the most successful band on the planet, he had the resources to indulge every long denied desire. But unlike his band mates, Toki's wishes were firmly rooted in childhood. It made for a slightly surreal day.
The grounds of Mordhaus were transformed into a carnival, brightly festooned with balloons, flags, striped tents and a petting zoo of mostly harmless and fuzzy animals. Vendors served caramel popcorn, hot dogs, lemonade, beer, funnel cakes, candy apples, birthday cake and giant roast turkey legs. There was a Ferris wheel, games involving rings and balls and chance. The night before a crew of klokateers built several merry go rounds, each with a different theme. One had classic wooden horses, another metal dragons and there was even one filled with guitars.
Dethklok's manager had quietly arranged for the families of several klokateers to attend the party carnival so it had a bustling, authentic racket and even some children running around with sticky, sugared faces. It doubled easily as an employee appreciation event with a remarkably low chance of death and tax deductible business expense that way. Charles Ofdensen wasn't sure Toki had ever actually attended any sort of American carnival, basing his requests entirely off an imaginary picture of things developed from the most recent tour and stories from Pickles about growing up in the Midwest. But having a band member with tastes so ordinary was publicity gold either way. A few selected photographers were allowed into to take some candid shorts of the carnival and Toki's child-like happiness. It would play well in the press, he was sure.
A crew of clowns wandered the event. That had been one thing Toki insisted on vehemently, to the dismay of just about everyone else. No amount of persuasion or mockery would convince the young guitar player that clowns were not metal or not awesome. A lifetime of beatings and frigid childhood made Toki very defensive and determined to get his way. Ofdensen didn't particularly care one way or the other, though he felt an instinctive distrust of the brightly colored men in painted faces. Corpse paint was one thing. Clown paint was just a little too weird. But what the birthday boy wanted, he got and Ofdensen hired a dozen clowns to wander the party doing clown things. One of the applications was from a "rock and roll" clown who seemed even more creepy than what was normal for clowns. The klokateers had orders to quickly neutralize any clown that got out of line. Toki might love them, but clowns were not to be trusted.
Surprisingly, aside from the clown issue, the rest of the band embraced the event with enthusiasm. Nathan and Murderface were busying shooting pellet guns for prizes they would put on the real firing range later. Pickles was circling endlessly on a merry go round, slumped over on a purple dragon and singing off key with a half empty liquor bottle in one hand. A klokateer stood just behind him, occasionally pulling him back by the shirt whenever the drummer seemed likely to slip off entirely. Skwisgaar was riding the Ferris wheel, each time with a different lady. His bucket rocked more wildly than the others each time it neared the top.
Toki scampered from one end of the carnival to other, an expression of manic glee on his face. He had already eaten quite a lot of candy, and there was a bit of frosting on his chin. Askew on his head was a gaudy golden birthday crown. In one hand he had a gnawed turkey leg.
"This is the bestest birthday party evers!" Toki shouted. He ran forward and grabbed Ofdensen in a hug, lifting the manager off the ground. "You should rides the Ferris wheel! You should eats some cakes! You should gets the clowns to makes you a balloon animal!"
"I will Toki, I will." Ofdensen wheezed a little when the guitarist let go, checking to see if any of his ribs were cracked. "Why don't you go check out the dunking booth? I'm sure you will like it. And try to ease up on the sugar."
"You knows it!" Toki shrieked at the top of his lungs. He quickly slipped into a garbled blend of Norwegian and English that Ofdensen couldn't make any sense of at all. Toki took off in a flurry of pumping arms and legs. A group of klokateers followed him singing "Happy Birthday" at the top of their lungs, trailed by a pair of clowns waving giant balloon in neon colors. Overhead, a few kites swooped and trailed rainbow streamers across the blue sky. Above them a a sky writer was almost finished writing "Happy Birthday Toki Wartooth!" Ofdensen glanced back at it, furrowing his brow. Something wasn't quite right. After a few moments he frowned and stalked off to find the rest of Dethklok.
Nathan and Skwisgaar were relaxing at a picnic table, beers in hand. They were watching Murderface unsuccessfully hit the ladies of the petting zoo. Pickles was passed out on the table, covered in powdered sugar and reeking of booze.
"Did you do that?" he asked in a very neutral tone of voice.
"Do what?" Nathan grunted. Ofdensen just pointed up at the sky, where the clouds read "Happy Birthday Toki you giant dildo!" in big swooping letters. Skwisgaar whooped cheerfully.
"That's pretty funny," Nathan laughed.
"Well it's not very nice." Ofdensen watched the large singer coolly.
"Aww man, he's not even gonna notice. Toki's too busy to even look up. Just give him some more candy or something." Nathan and Skwisgaar exchanged a high five and went back to making ribald comments about Murderface and his lack of romantic success. Over at the petting zoo a young woman slapped the bass player, causing him to fall into a pen full of llamas.
Ofdensen sighed and started walking back towards the center of the carnival. It was almost time to herd Toki to a small stage so he could open a mountain of presents selected from the truckloads sent in by adoring fans. They were sorted and re-wrapped the night before by a couple klokateers with colorful paper and big ribbon bows. Approaching the center of carnival Ofdensen could see Toki diving into a giant ball pit, supervised by the ever present klokateers. His high pitched, infectious laughter carried across the carnival on a strong breeze. Overhead the clouds were drifting apart, becoming illegible.