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Skwisgaar found the guys sitting around on the couch, laptop tucked beneath his arm. After a visual sweep to ensure Pickles wasn't there, he set the laptop open on the coffee table, gravely serious as he said, “Guys, I thinks you needs to see this.”
As they crowded close to the screen, Murderface slowly read the title of the article aloud. “‘Does Pickles the Drummer Is Gay?’”
“Move.” Nathan shoved him, pulling the laptop closer to himself to narrate. “‘The rumor come out. Does Pickles the Drummer Is gay?’”
“Holies shit.” Toki got closer, trying to read over Nathan’s shoulder, but Nathan hogged the laptop so only he could see it.
“‘Pickles the Drummer is gay is the most discussed in the media in the few years ago.’ I can't make heads or tails of this shit.”
“Lets me!” Toki made reaching, grabby hands for the laptop, exceedingly pleased when Nathan handed it to him. He read it silently, muttering some words aloud before setting the laptop down on the coffee table and taking on the same serious look as Skwisgaar. “This article convinced mes. Pickle ams gay.”
Murderface took the laptop back, reading the article to himself for a moment, his look one of confusion more than conviction. “Are you sure? This thing reads like one of you wrote it.”
“I ams sure,” Skwisgaar said. “I haves never read such a movings article before.”
Nathan and Murderface exchanged glances, but staring in the face of Toki and Skwisgaar's certainty made them open to the possibility. “What makes you so sure?” Nathan asked.
“It ams just the way it's written. It speaks to me. I just knows,” Skwisgaar insisted.
Toki nodded. “Exactlies. It ams like the article knows something we don’ts. Impotence, like what gods has.”
“That’s omnipotence, stupid. Anyway, there's gotta be more proof than that.” Murderface typed, ‘Pickles Gay’ into the search bar, scrolling past articles and press releases about pride themed condiments until the first relevant link appeared. “‘Bottom Pickles the Drummer’?” He read aloud in disbelief, looking up at the others. Cautiously, his finger hovered on the trackpad. “Should I click this?”
Toki and Skwisgaar shifted, nervously deferring to Nathan. After a steadying breath, Nathan nodded toward Murderface. “Do it.”
Murderface clicked it, skimming as he scrolled. “Oh my fucking God. I think it's a biography. It's got, like, chapters and shit of him getting fucked by dudes.” Disgusted, Murderface dropped the laptop onto Nathan's lap instead.
“‘Pickles bent over and spread his ass-’ ugh, God. Yeah, I think this must be a biography.”
“Hey, you guys having fun without me?” Nathan slammed the laptop shut. The guys all turned to Pickles as he passed by with a corn dog.
“Just, uh, talking about, uh-”
“Taxes,” Murderface supplied as Nathan floundered.
“Taxies!” Toki said. “I likes the yellow ones.”
“Sounds like I'm not missing anything.” He shrugged and continued on into the hallway.
“He was eating a fucking corn dog,” Murderface whispered, scandalized. “It doesn't get any gayer than that.”
Nathan came to a snap decision at that moment. “We need to talk to Charles.”
-
To have most of Dethklok fretting before him was enough to instill unease in Charles. Either there was serious, genuine cause for concern, or whatever he was about to be told was so stupid it was concerning in its own right.
“Something, ah, troubling you all?” He noticed the absence of Pickles, had his finger on a hidden panic button beneath the desk, anticipating the news of the overdose he knew one day would come.
Nathan set a laptop down in front of him. “You need to read this.”
“”Does Pickles the Drummer…Is Gay?’” He made it a few sentences in before looking back up at them. “This is almost unreadable. What am I supposed to take away from this?”
“We think Pickles is gay,” Nathan said.
“Because of this article?”
At Charles' scrutiny, Nathan looked around at the others for their encouragement before slowly responding, “Yeah?”
It was best to be gentle with Dethklok. They had a tendency to doubledown when overtly told one of their ideas was preposterous, so Charles asked, “Do you have other evidence?”
“Nathans, gives it to me.” Skwisgaar took over the laptop and switched tabs. “We founds this biographies about Pickle.”
Charles read a few sentences. It was, indeed, an erotic story featuring Pickles with another man. That was what prompted Charles to look at the address bar. “This is a fanfiction website,” he said flatly.
“Okay, but I just looked it up on my phone and found this!” William held up his phone, displaying a poorly photoshopped picture of Pickles' head on a tanned, buff leather daddy's body.
“William, this is clearly photoshopped. I can see the pixels. Also, you and I both know that isn't what Pickles looks like.”
They continued grasping at straws, Toki waving his phone around frantically to get Charles' attention. “I ams readings that short finger lengths means a man ams gay. Pickle has short fingers!”
They weren't going to let this go, so Charles sighed. “Say he is, what would you like me to do about it?” With how they paused, Charles immediately knew they hadn't thought that far ahead. It was dangerous to interfere with the slow and convoluted thought processes of his employers, however, and he waited patiently for the answer.
“Shit,” Nathan said. “We still need to figure that out.”
“Go do that. I'll be ready to discuss it when you do.” With any luck, they'd forget about it within the next two hours, and Charles would be spared from having to pretend to seriously entertain this.
The band filtered out into the hallway, staring at each other, concerned with how quick Charles was to excuse himself out of the conversation. Skwisgaar was the first to break the silence. “Dids you see hims? He was so overwhelmeds he couldn't even talks with us about it.”
“This is serious,” Murderface agreed. “It looks like we'll have to figure this out on our own.”
The first order of business was hiding from Pickles, finding a room deep in the underbelly of Mordhaus that was used for IT storage. They cleared out USB headsets and desktop workstations to make enough space for them to sit in a circle on the ground.
“We need to figure out what to do about Pickles' gay, uh.” Nathan struggled, looking for the others to supply the word he was looking for, but when they didn't, he forced the best fit. “Thing. His gay thing. Any ideas?”
“We should kick him out! It's disgusting, I bet he's slobbering over my hog as we speak. He's probably desperate for my cock, and I can't blame him, but what am I supposed to do? Just let him beg me to fuck him?” Murderface got more quiet as he went on, talking aloud to himself, beginning to grin a little bit. “He’d probably get on his hands and knees and really show me how bad he wants it. Imagine him crawling after me for it, getting on his haunches to suck my-”
“We’re not kicking him out of the band. You know how fucking bad the headlines would make us look? It'll totally be taken out of context.”
Toki tilted his head. “What ams the contexts?”
“I don't know, but think about what a headache it could be. We don't want to get into shit with human rights organizations again. Besides, he's gay. It's not like we're gay by association.”
“That ams right. When we gets our hairs and makes up done for TVs we don't becomes gay after the gay stylist ams touchings us.”
“Skwisgaar ams right. Otherwise we would be gays a hundred times over by nows.”
“Okay, good. Pickles being gay doesn't make us gay.” Everyone visibly relaxed after Nathan provided the final word on that. “But what do we do with him?”
“What does gay guys like?” Toki asked.
“Raw sex,” Murderface said definitively.
“Don'ts we all?” Skwisgaar paused for the snickering, knowing laughter around the room. “That ams good, it means he ams not that differents to us. What else?”
“Judy Garland,” Nathan said. “Gays love Judy Garland.”
Excited, Toki bounced in place. “I once saw Pickle watch Wizards of Oz on acids!”
“Okay, raw sex. Judy Garland,” Nathan mumbled the list, counting up on his fingers. “He's a small gay guy, so he's into big guys. That's science, or whatever. He definitely has a crush on me.”
“You wish.” Murderface patted his stomach. “I'm a big guy. Pickles has a crush on me.”
“You're not big, Murderface. You're just fat.”
Before Murderface had a meltdown over being called fat, Skwisgaar was quick to cut in, “You ams both fat. Gay guys like sex. He would like tall, slims, talented guys who ams goods at sex like me.”
“Gay guys don't like blondes,” Nathan spoke with the conviction of the desperately defensive. “And you're too skinny. Pickles is also skinny. That doesn't work. It needs to be with a bigger guy.”
“What abouts me? I ams strong and haves dark hair.”
“Pickles doesn't like you, Toki. Shut up.” Murderface dramatically gestured toward himself. “Pickles would need a guy who can show him who’s boss. I bet he doesn’t have a gag reflex and could-”
“Guys, can’t you see what’s happening?” Nathan interrupted. “We’re turning against each other over this, and you know why?”
When Nathan paused for input, Toki hesitantly guessed, “Because Pickle ams gay?”
“No! It’s because we need to be better allies.”
“But we ams allies,” Skwisgaar said. “Pickle ams already our friends.”
“That’s different. An ally is like, we pretend that Pickles is just like real people and, uh, we accommodate his special needs so we don’t get the ADA or YMCA or UCLA coming after us.”
Murderfaced nodded. “Oh, I get it. Like a ramp so he doesn't have to walk up stairs after he gets fucked up the butt!”
“That ams a goods idea!” Skwisgaar put his own idea forward. “We can gets him a specials parking stickers and a gay parkings spot.”
“And his own sauna,” Nathan added. “For gay orgies.”
“I gets him custom drumsticks for his limp wrists. Rainbows, so he can always remember he ams gay. We ams such good comrades.”
“Allies, Toki. Not Comrades,” Skwisgaar corrected, scoffing at Toki’s ignorance.
-
With the Klokateer Canva Pro account, Toki put together a slide deck to impress Charles with their proposal. They found a pride-themed template, and included various photos around the web akin to a moodboard to help bring their vision to life.
Nathan controlled the clicker. “Here’s what we’ve got.” The first slide contained several clear photoshops of Pickles attending pride events or wearing fetish gear. The title of the presentation: ‘Pickle ams Gay’. The subtitle: ‘We Ams The Bests Comrades’.
“I tolds you a million times, Toki. We ams Allies. Not comrades.”
“I forgets!”
“Both of you shut up.” Nathan cleared his throat. “Okay, so, Pickles is gay. We all agreed on that. What we want to do is be allies and show him we think he’s just like real people, right?”
Charles was quiet for a time before he realized they were prompting him. “Uh, I suppose. Gay people are real peo-”
“Anyway,” Nathan went on to the next slide. “How are we going to achieve that? We need to show him we think it’s fine that he has unprotected sex with strange men.”
“Yeah, we’re totally cool with the idea of him going out and getting gangbanged by, like, a dozen dudes,” Murderface added conversationally. “Like, it’s gross, but we’re cool with it.”
This seemed to have been lightly rehearsed. Murderface elbowed Skwisgaar for his part, and Skwisgaar nodded abruptly. “Oh yeahs. Or that he high fives us with the same hands he fists guys with.”
“You know being gay is not just about sex, right?” Charles asked.
Confused silence followed. Nathan proceeded to the next slide without addressing the question. “So, we’ve developed the Dethklok Ally Support Plan. It’s a 30, 60, 90 day implementation of quick things we can change to show Pickles a little fucking support and then, I don’t know, eventually put out a press release about how good we are as people or something. Maybe apply for the Nobel Peace Prize.”
Nathan advanced to the 30 day title slide. “To start off, we are requesting funding for, uh, accommodations for Pickles.” The next slide displayed an image of an accessible parking space. He nodded toward Skwisgaar for his piece.
“Oh, this ams my idea! A gay parkings spot so he can rush to booties calls faster!”
On the next slide was a pair of drumsticks and a picture Toki added of himself in the bottom right corner. “I gets him customs drumsticks for his limp wrists. There ams a picture of me to show it’s my ideas.”
On the next one was a sauna. “And, uh, we get a separate sauna so he can have his orgies in there instead of getting cum all over our sauna.”
The final slide of the 30-day section was the ramp. “We all know how difficult it is to get up the stairs after taking it up the butt, right?” Murderface paused. When no one responded, he continued, undeterred, “That’s why we need to get him a ramp into Mordhaus.”
“Guys, I really think you should reconsider this.”
“What are you, Charles? Homophobic?” Nathan snapped back. “Does Pickles not deserve this stuff just because he’s gay?”
Charles realized it was futile to argue. “Alright, I’ll have a project team assembled by tomorrow and the funds dispersed.”
“Great.” Nathan clicked to the 60-day title slide. “This is actually the last slide. We don’t know what you do in the 60-day or 90-day parts of the 30-60-90.”
“Yeah we usually falls asleep half way throughs the 30-day parts when you present,” Skwisgaar said.
For once, Charles was grateful for the tendency they had of ignoring him, granting him the small blessing of not having to sit through any more of this.
-
It took a few weeks for all the accommodations to be built. In the meantime, Dethklok reinforced their allyship toward Pickles by being irritatingly, vocally polite.
Nathan held the door open for Pickles whenever he could get to it, loudly announcing, “Pickles, I’m holding the door for you.” every time.
“Uh, thanks, dude.”
In the dining room, Murderface would trip over himself to pull Pickles’ chair out for him. “Pickles, take a load off and sit your fabulous ass down.”
Pickles ignored him and began sitting until Toki called, “Waits!” He supplied a seat cushion. “I gots a special pillow for your comforts!”
“You guys are acting weird.”
At the dinner table, instead of passing Pickles food, Skwisgaar reached over the table to set it in front of him. “This platter ams heavy, Pickle, I wouldn’t wants you to strain your wrists.”
Depending on the spread and seating configuration, Skwisgaar would lay across the table simply to set the platter down before him. As Skwisgaar starfished across the table to pass a basket of fries, Pickles finally had enough. “Alright, what the fuck is going on?”
“We ams beings comrades!” Toki said. “Speakings of, who ams the best comrades?”
“Like communism? I dunno, Che Guevara? I had a bong with him on it.”
“No, what Toki means is-” Murderface was cut off by Skwisgaar attempting to slide back into his seat, knocking over an entire serving bowl of soup onto the table. “Nice fucking going, Skwisgaar.”
While they argued amongst themselves, Pickles finished his soup and took that as his cue to leave, narrowly avoiding the other members insisting that not only did they demonstrate the most comprehensive, compassionate allyship, but also once again arguing who Pickles had the biggest gay crush on.
“He can’t like you,” Nathan said to Skwisgaar. “You knocked over the soup and he left. He probably hates you now.”
“You thinks everyones likes you because you ams the leads singer. Newsflash, the worlds does not revolves around you.”
Murderface laughed. “That’s rich coming from the lead guitarist.”
“Murderface, you don’t evens have a stakes in this. You ams just embarrassing yourselfs.”
“Listen you Swedish dildo-licker-”
“Guys,” Toki got in between Murderface and Skwisgaar before things devolved. “Amn’ts gay guys kinds of like women?” All the guys stared at each other, then nodded in tandem. “And what does women likes?”
“Tall guys with money?” Nathan guessed.
“That’s right!” That was all it took for Murderface to lose the animosity, stepping back from Skwisgaar. “We’re all taller than Pickles, and we all have money. He likes all of us.”
Now that all of them agreed on that point, they were all pleased, happy to believe Pickles secretly harbored massive crushes on all of them equally.
-
They were over the moon when all of Pickles' accommodations were finished. To eliminate any recency bias, they all planned to reveal their ideas on the same day. They would see Pickles’ immediate reaction, and get his gut response for whose was the most thoughtful.
They took him outside into the executive parking lot, where a new spot was painted closer to the entrance in a bright pink. In the center was a stick man on all fours, meant to resemble doggy style. “This was my ideas,” Skwisgaar said proudly. “I gots you your own parkings spot.”
Pickles stared at it for a moment, brows slowly knitted as he tilted his head to figure out what the stick man was doing. “That's cool and all, but why is it pink?”
“Fucks, you ams right. I should've made it rainbows.”
Before Pickles asked for further clarification, he was whisked around to the newly renovated entrance, where a ramp now stood alongside the steps into the Haus. A sign was stuck onto the railing that read, ‘Pickles Use Only’.
“You know those morning-after walks of shame?” Murderface said, an entrepreneurial pep to the introduction of his accommodation. “Well, now they don't need to be walks of pain. You have a ramp now.”
“Alright.” Pickles shrugged, underwhelmed. Murderface swore under his breath
Nathan led them back inside. “Enough of the bullshit. This was my idea.” He showed Pickles to the new sauna. It was exactly the same as their old sauna, just with a plaque marked ‘Pickles’ Sauna’ outside. “What do you think?”
After a moment’s consideration, Pickles asked. “Did I accidentally make an Amazon wishlist while I was drunk?”
“No, we took the initiative. You know, for your needs.”
“I don't need any of this stuff.”
The silence that followed was so cold even Pickles realized he’d made some sort of mistake in rejecting the gifts so bluntly. Toki spared them from it stretching on further, pulling a pair of rainbow, bejeweled drumsticks out of his back pocket. “I got you news sticks. They ams ergonomics so they ams easy on your wrists.”
“Oh, these are nice.” Pickles tested his grip on them, practicing a little air drumming before running his thumb along the textured gems. “They feel good. What’s up with the bedazzling, though?”
“It ams worths a lot of moneys,” Toki said, smug. “Which one does you likes the most?”
Once Pickles thought he was catching on, he smiled. “Ah, I see. You guys got a little bet going on. Well, y'know I like the parking spot, that's useful. I don't know if I'll use the ramp or the sauna, but they're a nice gesture.” He held up the drumsticks. “Gotta admit, though, Toki really got me with these. I can see these being my daily driver.”
Toki turned toward the others to showboat. “Sees, I'ms the best comrades!”
Once Pickles walked away with his new sticks, the guys grumbled amongst themselves. “Bullshit you got him the best gift. The ramp was the perfect idea.”
“And the sauna! I can’t believe he didn’t see a use for it.”
“I don't know how stupids drums sticks beat my parkings spot.”
Toki didn’t let it get to him, responding with, “You all just has to accepts that Pickle picked me. Tries not to cries about it.”
He left to bask in his victory, and the remaining three gathered closely, voices low. Nathan put forward one motion. “We’ve known Pickles longer. We cannot let Toki show us up like this. We’ll have to be even better allies.”
The other two nodded in agreement, deciding that a victory for one of them was a victory for all.
-
Pickles twirled his sticks between fills during rehearsal. When they caught the light, it made a cool disco-ball effect around the room. This made Murderface, Skwisgaar and Nathan even more aware of how much they had to compensate to beat Toki’s accommodation.
When the song ended and Pickles went for his water, Murderface grabbed his shoulders. “You are such an inspiration, Pickles.”
“Uh, alright. Can you get off me?” Pickles shoved him away.
Skwisgaar pressed in beside Murderface. “Yeah, they should makes a documentaries about your lifes.”
Nathan, amplified by the microphone, yelled, “You've overcome so much adversity to get to where you are today.”
Pickles finally took his sip of water. “I must be playing better than normal today.”
“That’s right. You're playing so well in spite of all the challenges you face.”
“Wasn't sure about how I sounded today, I'm really hungover. That makes me feel better about it, thanks Murderface.”
Seeing Murderface get thanked, Skwisgaar hastily added, “If you asks me, I thinks you ams the best drummer of your kinds.”
“Yeah, you're like, uh.” Nathan held the ‘uh’ for a bit, a low drone into the mic. “You’re like Elton John.”
“Elton John isn't a drummer,” Pickles said.
“You know what I mean.”
“Right. So, are we done rehearsing for today?”
“For yous?” Skwisgaar slapped Pickles lightly on the shoulder. “You've contributed so much alreadies, such an icons. Get outs of here, Pickle.”
“Alright. See you later, weirdos.” Pickles slipped out.
All the guys felt very self satisfied at how good and supportive they were, until Toki looked at the empty kit. “How ams we going to rehearse withouts a drummer?”
The rest of Dethklok shrugged and decided that practice was over for the day.
-
To make Pickles more comfortable, they decided to gay up the place. That meant buying every dick shaped novelty they could find at Spencer's and leaving it around the Haus like a phallic Easter egg hunt. There were dick shaped blinking signs, clocks with cocks, dicks on mugs and shot glasses, drawers stuffed to the brim with penis straws, a bong with the tube shaped like a shaft and the chamber shaped like balls. They threw around dick pillows, laid out throw blankets with penis prints.
If they couldn’t find something with a cock on it, then they made sure it came in rainbow. It clashed with the blacks and reds of Mordhaus, but the guys were certain Pickles would feel right at home. Murderface even personally curated a spread of gay porn magazines to leave as a coffee table conversation piece in the living room.
Once they were satisfied with the decor, they ordered a Klokateer to fetch Pickles, blindfolding him to unveil the surprise. They had everything staged for maximum effect, the penis pillows fluffed, all blinking signs lit, a magazine opened on a centerfold of a spread, gaped asshole.
“Okays,” Skwisgaar said, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. “You can takes your blindfolds off.”
Pickles was in good spirits, smiling about the whole thing until he tugged on the knot, letting the blindfold fall. He caught about two dozen dicks in his periphery before his smile dropped.
“Do you like it?” Murderface asked eagerly.
Pickles’ eyes fell on the open magazine, then slowly raised to Murderface. “Was this your idea?”
Before Murderface took the credit, Nathan jumped in. “This was a collective effort!”
They expected praise, maybe an expression of gratitude. Instead, Pickles only raised a brow, fixing them with a somewhat confused look. “Very funny, I guess.” He went off to the kitchen without another word.
Frustrated, Murderface knocked a dick candle off the coffee table. “He doesn't like anything we do!”
“I ams starting to thinks maybe we don’t know as much abouts gay peoples as we thoughts.”
“That can’t be it,” Nathan insisted. He paced around for a bit, stopping to stare down the slit of a glass penis flower vase. “All this shit, it’s superficial. It’s all just…stuff.”
“What do you mean? This stuff is great.” Murderface picked up the penis candle off the floor as if to demonstrate its quality.
“Yeah, but it’s not real support. We need to show him we support him.”
As it turned out, the opportunity to show genuine support came sooner rather than later. Pickles got dressed, overheard conversing with a Klokateer about driving directions.
“Where are you going, pal?” Murderface asked. “One of your ‘special clubs’?”
“Nah. My buddy Tony’s in town for once, we’re going to meet up at the bar.”
“Alrights, haves fun and be safe.”
“Thanks, Skwisgaar. See you guys later.”
As soon as Pickles left, Nathan let out a shocked exhale. “Holy shit. Tony. He’s dating Tony.”
“Who the fucks ams Tony?”
“The bassist from Snakes n Barrels.”
“Holy fuck,” said Murderface. “He's known that guy since forever.”
“This is our chance to show him we’re real allies. They've probably been dating for years and never told us. They probably want to get married, and we can give them our blessing.”
“And then Pickle chooses ones of us as the best allies insteads of Toki!”
From the game cabinet, Toki called, “I ams rights here, you know. And it doesn’t matter, Pickle alreadies chooses me as the best comrades.”
“Shuts up, Toki.”
They instructed a Klokateer to alert them when Pickles got back, accosting him as soon as he walked through the door. “How was your dates, Pickle?”
“Date?”
“Your date with Tony,” Nathan clarified.
Pickles was drunk enough to be confused, responding before what they were asking really registered. “I didn't go on a date. We haven't seen each other in like four years, we were just catching up.”
“That's great, glad to hear distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that shit.” Murderface wrapped a chummy around Pickles’ shoulders. “We just wanted to give you our blessing. Y'know, so you don't have to wait anymore.”
“What are you dildos talking about?”
“You don't have to hide it from us, Pickles. We all know how you feel. You can marry him,” Nathan said.
“Can I be the best mans?”
“Since Pickles is the girl, I think it’s maid of honor,” Murderface explained.
Skwisgaar shrugged. “I can be the maids of honor, too.”
“Have you guys lost your minds? Why would I marry Tony?”
“Uh, because you're gay?” Murderface said as if Pickles was slow on the uptake.
“Yeah. We accepts you as you ams, specials needs and alls.”
Pickles felt himself sobering up in the midst of this conversation. “Is that what all this stupid bullshit is about? You think I’m gay?” He pushed the guys back to give himself some space, both hands gesturing toward his own chest. “You’ve seen me sleep with women.”
The guys paused and glanced at each other for help. For a moment, their beliefs were genuinely challenged, until Skwisgaar shook his head definitively. “A covers up. You don’ts haves to does that anymore.”
“Though we would prefer you use your own sauna if you absolutely need to have an orgy,” Nathan said.
“Oh my fucking god, I'm not gay. I see Tony once every few years. He just married a woman last year, for fuck’s sake.”
“Oh, just like Brokebacks Mountains!”
“No! I'm not gay. It's like I'm talking to a brick wall. Fuck it, I'm not going to waste my breath on you morons.” Pickles pushed past them and stomped out.
“Guys, did I hear right?” Nathan asked. “I think he mentioned a brick wall.”
“Do you think he meant Stonewall?”
“Oh my gods, Pickle threw the first bricks at Stonewalls.”
While the guys were busy contending with the revelation that Pickles was possibly a cornerstone of gay history, Pickles marched to Charles’ office, dismissing all the Klokateers surrounding him in an angry huff.
“What's the matter, Pickles?”
“Did you know about this stupid shit?”
Charles wracked his brain for anything notable that jumped out to him as of late. “You'll have to be, ah, more specific.”
“The guys think I'm gay. I thought it was fucking weird that I was getting all these gifts and weird motivational speeches lately.”
“Ah, yes. I'm aware.”
“And you didn't talk them out of it?”
“Once they've set their mind to something it's very hard to convince them otherwise, besides it's harmless-”
“The fucking living room is covered in dicks!”
Charles felt for Pickles, he really did. He was who Dethklok had chosen to focus all of their energy on, for better or worse, but he had the same question for him that he had for the rest of the group. “What exactly would you like me to do about it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I just want to vent.” Pickles folded his arms and sighed. “How’d this even happen, anyway?”
“The boys encountered a very poorly written article that convinced them.”
“Of course. There’s gotta be some way of fixing this.”
“I really would let this run its course until they get bored and focus on something else.”
“I know what I’ll do,” Pickles said, completely ignoring Charles’ suggestion. “I’ll start banging tons of groupies around them.”
“Pickles, I would really recommend you reconsid-”
Pickles interrupted without letting Charles get to the end of that sentence. “Thanks, Charles. You always have good ideas.”
After Pickles left, Charles stared after him, wondering in what ways this would further fall apart before things naturally corrected course over time. Oh well, it was no longer his problem.
-
Pickles was by no means an exhibitionist, but he was comfortable being naked around people, comfortable being seen having sex, and although he didn’t exactly want the guys as an audience, he could deal with that if it meant not finding another dick shaped ice cube in his whiskey.
He dragged a futon out to the living room to make sure he was caught, laying on the bottom of a pile of naked ladies, identifiable only by his dreads peeking out beneath the bodies. Surely, surely, this would make it through the band’s thick heads.
He grinned when he heard Dethklok step in, hearing the various, ‘Oh shit’s and ‘Oh fucks’ before they turned right back around and hastily left. Instead of them being convinced, however, they found themselves in the kitchen chatting openly about it.
“It ams so cool that the groupies sluts ams so accepting of Pickles' condition,” Skwisgaar began the conversation, earning a round of nods and comments marveling at how great the groupie sluts were as allies. “But it ams sad how Pickle has no choice but to fucks them.”
“Maybe it’s hard finding gay groupies,” Nathan suggested. “That's it. That's how we can finally beat Toki at this ally thing.”
Dethklok called in the Klokateers responsible for selecting their groupies. Murderface marched in front of them like a drill sergeant staring down a line of soldiers. “Okay, listen up. Pickles is gay and he needs gay groupies. But you can't just pull any two-bit schmuck off the street in a Dethklok t-shirt.”
“They need to meet some minimum standards." Nathan read off the list he threw together on his Notes app. “They need to be tall, handsome, and have big dicks. Do you understand?”
The Klokateers all nodded, responding in time with, ‘Yes, milord.’
“Great. Now go find Pickles some groupies.” Once the Klokateers left, Nathan sat back, pleased with himself. “Pickles is so lucky to have us.”
It took the Klokateers a couple of hours to abduct a dozen men off the street. They did adhere to some of the criteria, kidnapping any remotely handsome, tall man wearing any sort of visible Dethklok merch. Once Pickles and his groupies cleared out of the living room, the men were brought in cuffed, lined up in front of the rest of Dethklok for evaluation, re-including Toki as long as he promised he wouldn't take credit for the idea.
Nathan walked past each of the guys. They were tall, all about his height, give or take. They looked both a little scared and a little excited, happy to see Dethklok, but wary of the Klokateers on standby. “Are these guys handsome?” Nathan asked it as an open question, receiving only shrugs in response. “It'll have to do. Time to see how big their dicks are. Alright, all of you drop your pants.”
“Do we have to-”
“Yes,” Murderface snapped at them.
All of the men reluctantly dropped their pants and boxers. Toki carried a clipboard, following behind Dethklok, dutifully jotting down their commentary about their builds and their dicks, throwing our arbitrary numbers in a scoring system that had not been previously discussed.
Pickles, who so confidently believed he'd regained his heterosexuality in the eyes of Dethklok, walked back into the living room, now clothed. He stopped in place at the sight of the veritable cattle auction occurring in his home. “What in the absolute fuck is going on?”
“Pickle!” Toki looked up from his clipboard. “We ams finding you special groupies!”
“Oh my god.” He rushed to the Klokateers. “Uncuff these guys and send them home.”
“Damns, maybe he doesn't likes tall guys afters all,” Skwisgaar attempted to whisper to Murderface discreetly.
Pickles heard him, however, and swung around to face the band. “For the last time, I’m not gay! Have you ever seen me show interest in a man?” Dethklok fixed him with empty stares, only then did Pickles realize this was futile. His calm was sudden and zen-like. There was no way to undo this, but Pickles could redirect it, could channel their energy away from him. “You guys are great allies. The best.” He would do it using their egos, continuing steady as he saw the smiles grow on their faces at their efforts finally being acknowledged. “You're such good allies that I can't be hogging you all to myself. What you've done for me is great, but I already have so much. There's a whole world of gay guys out there who need parking spots and dick candles and shit. I think it's time your outreach goes global.”
Inspired by this, Dethklok immediately started thinking out loud about how to expand their scope. Pickles expected them to burn themselves out eventually, but they put money and time into a ‘gay soup kitchen’, the opening christened with a ceremony and a press release.
Nathan leaned into his mic. “We really couldn't have done this without learning so much about gay people from our gay drummer, Pickles.”
“That ams why this soups kitchen offers free booze,” Skwisgaar announced.
“And everything else gay people love,” Murderface said. “Like free dildos and butt plugs.”
Toki wrapped up the round of canned talking points with, “That’s why we ams proud to unveils the Dethklok Soups Kitchen for Gay Drummers ands Also Gay Peoples what ams Nots Drummers.”
A reporter shoved her microphone toward Pickles. “Any comment, Pickles?”
He gave a small, non-committal wave. “Yeah, sure, whatever they said.”
Murderface individually spoke to another reporter, overheard saying, “You know, I consider myself somewhat of an ambassador to gay people.”
At the very least, Pickles was not the target of their generosity anymore, and that was enough cause to celebrate.