Playing Dirty

[Anonymouse]

It's springtime and I thought it would be cute to write a fic about the members of Dethklok playing football while one of them is suffering from allergies. Only after I started writing did I realize I don't really know how to write about football... oops! So please bear with me if I don't get the rules or terminology right, I had the 'American football' Wikipedia article open while I was writing in case I got confused.

This is the first part. I might write one or two more if people actually read it. Just something short and fluffy... well, as fluffy as Metalocalypse can get.

---

It was awkward picking teams for football with just the five of them. Normally they recruited Klokateers for their games, though recently their body guards had taken to politely refusing the band’s invitations, probably due to the fact that Murderface threatened to fire anyone who tackled him. Nathan had even resorted to asking Charles this time but his request was met with a blank stare delivered over mountains of paperwork. Thus the band resigned itself to what would probably be the lamest game of football ever.

Pickles had already made his selection; he and Skwisgaar stood off to the side, watching as Nathan scrutinized the remaining two. Murderface stood beside Toki, brandishing his knife and staring hard at Nathan as if trying to telepathetically convince (or threaten) the front man to choose him. Toki just sniffled, looking eager and nervous at the same time.

It was moments like this that reminded Nathan what a bunch of losers his band mates were. Murderface was slow and severely lacking in athletic ability (or any abilities, really). Toki was built like warrior but lacked the courage of one. He always dove out of the way whenever anyone physically larger than him (which was everyone except for Pickles and 5% of the Klokateer population) charged towards him with the ball. Nathan’s eyes jumped between his two less-than-satisfactory options, weighing the pros and cons of each. When Toki sniffled loudly again Nathan realized he had an extra item to add to his ‘cons’ list.

Toki hadn’t stopped sneezing from the moment they stepped outside. His red nose and streaming eyes attested to this, though he was still unrelentingly spunky and eager to play. It was like watching a dog with no legs get excited about the prospect of going for a walk. As Toki rubbed fervently at his nose Nathan turned his attention back to Murderface, who was trying not to look too hopeful as he tapped the tip of his knife against his own leg.

“Murderface,” Nathan grunted decisively, “get over here. And put that knife down, this is a football game, not a street fight.” Deliberately avoiding eye contact with Toki, Nathan turned to address the rest of the players. “Alright guys, here’s the deal-”

“Hey guys, whats abouh… hikksshh’ahh! Hihk’shah!" Sniff. "… whats abouts me?”

“-this is the last football we have left-”

“Guys?”

“-so if anyone loses it in the lake again-”

Toki could only be ignored for so long. “Naaaate’nnnn?” he whined, still watching pathetically from the sidelines.

Nathan closed his eyes, but when he opened them he saw that Toki had wormed his way into their huddle. The front man began walking, pushing Murderface towards their end, but Toki trailed along beside them like an annoying kid brother, his watery eyes fixed on Nathan with a subtle determination. “Why can’ts I play?” he demanded.

“Because,” Nathan said simply as Toki stopped suddenly, his breath hitching.

“Hnnk’shehh! Hihksh’ahh! Hih’ISSHHAhhh!”

“-that,” Nathan added, frowning as the rhythm guitarist straightened up, a new river of tears running down his face. “Why don’t you sit this one out? You look miserable.”

Toki frowned but he didn’t budge. They left him out so often that he clung to every chance to be involved regardless of how cruddy he felt. Murderface muttered something incomprehensible, shooting Toki a murderous look as he jabbed his knife into the ground. “Alright, guysh,” he called out to the other team. “Whadda we do witsh the fifth wheel here?”

“Heh’tsshh! Hey!” Toki pouted.

“Eh…” Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow, sneering in disgust as the inferior guitarist rubbed feebly at his streaming nose. “I says we gets him a tissue and dens gives him some pom-poms so he cans be our little cheers-leader.”

“Aw, just let the guy play,” Pickles said. “But he’s gotta be on your team, Nate’n. You played football in high school so you got an advantage already. We gotta even things out a bit.”

“Yeah!” Toki exclaimed, oblivious to the fact that Pickles referred to him as a hindrance while simultaneously defending him. “Gots to even things ou… huh…”

“Dood, here,” Pickles said, untying the bandana around his head and absently passing it off to Toki, without fully considering the implications of his generosity.

“Thanks Pihh… hihh…” Toki buried his nose in the colorful cloth, his shoulders lifting as he gasped. “Hih’isshoo! Hih’schahh! Ischh! Isschaah!”

“Uchk,” Nathan mumbled with a shiver. “You sure you don’t want to just go inside?”

Toki shook his head resolutely, his face still obscured by Pickles’ bandana. “You can keep that,” Pickles said a little despondently, rearranging his dreadlocked comb-over for more scalp coverage. “My head’ll just burn to a crisp. It’s fine.”

“How are you going to play if you keep doing that?” Murderface asked, using logic for quite possibly the first time in his life.

“I’m fines!” Toki insisted with a sniffle. “I’m dones now.”

“Ugh, Toki, why you always gots to parades in our rains?” Skwisgaar asked.

“Dat’s not even the saying!” Toki retaliated, his boyish enthusiasm suddenly becoming something more violent. “You’s just scared cause you know we’s gonna win! I’ll kicks your ass, Skwisgaar!”

Nathan quirked an eyebrow. Maybe this would work after all. Whenever they played Skwisgaar and Toki usually ended up on the same team, largely due to Toki’s insistence on following the lead guitarist around like a puppy in hopes of absorbing some of his greatness this way. Nathan was interested to see how their hatred for one another would play out from opposing sides. Toki was physically stronger than Skwisgaar but he rarely had the guts to challenge him like he just had. Perhaps having Toki on the team was an advantage in disguise.

“Ha!” Skwisgaar exclaimed, throwing the football at Toki’s chest. “Dat’s a laugh.”

The younger guitarist just barely brought his arms up in time, the impact of the ball against his chest causing him to double over in a coughing fit. With a haughty smirk Skwisgaar turned to Toki’s unfortunate teammates. “I apolgi-secks in advance for how bads we ares going to crush you,” he said, giving Pickles a high-five before trotting off towards their end of the field to discuss their opening play in private.

Toki ended his coughing fit with a harsh “Hresschahh!” muffled in Pickles’ bandana. Nathan winced, no longer as hopeful as he had been a minute ago. “I thought you were done doing that.”

“I ams,” Toki said, his face set in determination as he tied the bandana around his neck and leered across the field at his blond rival. “Let’s do this.”

Edited March 28, 2011 by AnonyMouse

[Aprilcot]

Haha!!!!

I like it!!!!!!!!!!!

Please continue, I'd love to see more!!!!!!!!!!!

Toki is just soo cute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[kilala]

Hey I just discovered this, I hope you're planning to continue it! It really good, and I loves Toki, he's adoarble

[Anonymouse]

Thanks guys! Sorry it took so long to update, I do this thing where I start five different stories and then never finish them. I wasn't even sure where to go with this but inspiration struck me yesterday while I was taking a walk around campus witnessing all of the lovely allergy sneezes. After educating myself a little more about football I decided to continue. Sorry about the language. Enjoy!

---

“Dood, stop lookin’ over there, we’ve got nothin’ to worry about.”

Skwisgaar tore his eyes away from Toki, who was smearing dirt under his eyes like war paint. Pickles was looking up at him, the top of his head already red from the five minutes of exposure he’d had to the sun; the Swede imagined his own face must have taken on a similar tint. Nobody had been smart enough to suggest sunscreen, but that was fine. Being cooked alive by the sun was pretty brutal.

“We’re the two skinniest guys here,” Pickles said, “but we’re the fastest, at least with Toki out of commission. Speed is all that matters in this game.”

“Ja, whatevers,” Skwisgaar replied, glancing back over his shoulder at the other team.

He wasn’t usually this dismissive of Pickles but Toki was acting like too much of a goofball not to watch. He marched around now like a general, his arms windmilling as he described his idea for a play. Nathan, meanwhile, was eyeing Murderface’s knife with envy, no doubt wishing he could plunge it into his own chest and end it all.

The small teams met at the center of the field. The intense silence was broken only by the whirring of a riding mower decapitating thousands of blades of grass in the distance. Skwisgaar planted himself across from his fellow Scandinavian, whose streaming eyes were starting to blotch the makeshift war paint across his face. He looked like a stupid dog, panting in the hot sun with Pickles’ bandana tied around his neck. “You readies to die?” Toki asked, trying to make his voice sound deeper and more intimidating than it actually was.

Skwisgaar merely smirked and shook his head dismissively, shifting his gaze to Nathan, who was hunched over with the football. “Alright, since I’m suck with this dildo here –” Nathan began, nodding to an oblivious Toki. “– we get to go first. FAIR?!”

Nobody dared to argue after that final, booming word, so Nathan nodded and tossed the ball to Toki, who managed to catch it without crumbling into another coughing fit. The guitarist looked proud to have been chosen over Murderface, who was too busy updating his Twitter on his Dethphone to notice or care what was going on around him. Skwisgaar smirked again as Toki hunched over, clutching the ball to his chest as Nathan positioned himself behind him. “Yous two looks gays,” he snickered.

Nathan’s mouth twitched into a scowl. “You better hope I don’t catch you,” he growled, and the thought of over two-hundred pounds of angry Dethklok front man slamming him into the dirt was enough to effectively silence Skwisgaar. “Alright,” Nathan continued, extending his massive arms in preparation. “Black sixty-six, hut hut-”

“Hgxshiieww!”

Skwisgaar snorted, relaxing his stance as Toki dropped the ball and nearly tumbled over. Nathan straightened up and smacked himself in the forehead before grabbing Toki by the bandana. The smaller man squirmed and struggled to free himself as Nathan nearly lifted him off the ground, bringing his face close to his. “Knock. It. Off.”

“I stops!” Toki promised, gasping. “Just lets… achk! Lets go, you’s chokings me!”

Nathan released Toki and he fell into the dirt, coughing and sputtering. “Here Murderface,” Nathan mumbled, tossing the ball to the distracted bassist, who looked up from his phone just in time to catch it.

“Alright, dickweeds, watsch and learn,” he said, sliding his phone into his vest pocket and hunkering down with the ball. Nathan got behind him and Pickles, who had been examining the reddening skin of his arms with a hint of concern, snapped to attention.

Nobody seemed to care that Toki was still sprawled facedown on the ground. Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow, sweeping his blonde hair back from his sticky forehead as his gaze jumped between the prostrate Norwegian and the ball, which was now moving with Nathan down the field. “Skwisgaar, c’mon!” Pickles exclaimed, running off after the former high school football star as he charged like a rhinoceros towards the end zone.

Skwisgaar watched the bouncing ginger dreadlocks recede into the distance and knew that Pickles had no chance of tackling Nathan, even if he could catch up to him. Returning his attention to Toki, who was now attempting to sit up, Skwisgaar gave his characteristic scoff of disdain. “Pfft. Silly goofballs, why you evens play when you sucks so bads?”

Toki peered up at him, his eyebrows knitting together in what looked like an expression of dazed anger, but a quick intake of breath indicated something entirely different. Smirking, Skwisgaar took a step back as the younger man frantically loosened the bandana around his neck, folding a corner of the cloth over his nose and wrenching forward violently. “Hihkshhhiew! Hih-hihISSHahh! Hih…”

His breath wavered unevenly and he squinted up at the sky, his jaw slack. Skwisgaar couldn’t help but burst into laughter at his friend’s tortured expression. “Toki, seriouslies, you’s a mess,” he said. “Just goes inside, I thinks your teams can manage withou–”

Toki waved an arm at him, looking mildly annoyed as his breath hitched a few more times. Skwisgaar folded his arms, equally irked at having been cut off. “Whats?” he demanded, but Toki shook his head fervently, his eyes closing tight for a few seconds.

“Shuhh… shuts up...”

“Why?”

Toki waved his arm again. “Shh!”

“Why?”

After a moment the sneezy expression began to fade, and Toki opened his eyes with an agitated sniffle. “Thanks, dildos, I was trying to concentrate and you— ISHHIEEWWW!”

He snapped forward unexpectedly and Skwisgaar quirked an eyebrow, amused. “You needed to conskentrates on sneezing?”

Toki gave no answer, only blew his nose miserably into the bandana. “No wonders you sucks at everythings,” Skwisgaar continued. “You needs to thinks so hards about the simples-est things.”

“You sucks at this game just as much as I do!” Toki said, pushing his slick bangs back from his forehead and struggling to his feet like a newborn colt. “You’s not even playings!”

“It’s more funs standing heres watching you be pathetics.”

Toki opened his mouth to retort but took a deep breath instead, his forehead crinkling as he turned away from Skwisgaar. “Hihhkshhih! Hihksshhahh!” He paused, panting desperately as he pulled the loosened bandana off his neck. Bunching the fabric against his nose, he built up shakily to another set of doubles. “Hhh… ihh… hihkshieeww! Kshhheh!”

“What are you dildos doing over there?”

They turned and saw Nathan standing in the end zone. Pickles was bent over, trying to catch his breath, and Murderface was smiling smugly as if it were he who made the touchdown. “Nothings!” Toki shouted back, quickly tying the bandana back around his neck.

Nathan regarded them skeptically, returning to the middle of the field. “Is Toki still sneezing?”

“Ja,” Skwisgaar tattled, though Toki shook his head in fervent denial. Nathan didn’t seem to care that much anymore. He scored a touchdown, and though the victory was akin to that of single-handedly beating a bunch of midgets at basketball he was feeling better about this game. Pickles almost caught up to him but he swerved away at the last minute, just in time to reach the end zone and slam the ball into the dirt.

“Alright, douchebags, huddle up,” he instructed, though Toki refused to move from his spot or break eye contact with Skwisgaar.

Grabbing Toki by the sleeve, Nathan dragged him over to where Murderface waited and began to explain his plan for the next play.

[March Hare]

Oh, Mouse dear, your fiction cracks me up every time. I only wish I could say something I haven't already said ten times before, like "ooh you're really funny" or "ee, Skwisgaar HOT" or something. But! your Dethklok fiction is heaps of fun and I thank you for giving it to us!

[bloom]

This is hilarious and adorable. I've never seen Metalocalypse but if it's anywhere near as funny as you write it I really should start watching it...

[Anonymouse]

Aw, thanks Maru-Chan.

Junia, you should definitely, definitely start watching it. It really is hilarious.

Here is the third and final part! Thanks to everyone who's read/commented and I hope you all enjoyed it!

---

Skwisgaar and Pickles were locked in an intense best-fifteen-out-of-seventeen battle of rock-paper-scissors over who should go inside and find some sunscreen when what they had dubbed as Team Loser (who was actually winning by the only touchdown of the game) finally disbanded and returned to the center of the field. Toki swept his damp bangs out of his eyes and eyed his opponents nervously, looking like Nathan had just threatened to do unspeakable things to his Deddy bear. The front man probably spent the past five minutes lambasting his rhythm guitarist for being such a useless dildo. That, or they had devised a really good plan (which was doubtful, as Team Loser had a collective I.Q. of 52).

Skwisgaar’s hair was dripping with sweat but he left it down to protect his reddening shoulders from the sun. He was still somehow fifty shades paler than Pickles, who was beginning to sympathize with all the lobsters that had to shriek, turn red, and die just so jackoffs like him could enjoy culinary treasures like lobster thermidor. The air was thick with humidity now and they all squinted at one another, blinking rapidly to keep the sweat out of their eyes. “So in case you monkeys haven’t been paying attention,” Nathan grumbled, his rumbling voice echoed by a distant peel of thunder, “the current score is–”

“Hffsheh! Hihskksheh! Ihhkishhiew! Ih… ih-hihhshiew!”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed as he folded his arms impatiently, the football just about ready to burst in his tightening grip. Toki sniffled and peered up apologetically, his pale blue eyes swimming in tears, but he looked nowhere near done. “S-sohhrry… hihh...”

“Don’t apologize,” the front man grunted. “Just get it out of your system.”

Nostrils flaring sharply, Toki took a deep, ragged breath before burying his face in Pickles’ bandana. “Hngishiehh! Hngxishieh! Hih… heuhh…” Toki sighed and shook his head like a wet dog, giving a fluid sniffle. Nathan raised an eyebrow. “You done?”

Toki nodded uncertainly.

“You sure?”

Another nod.

“Because you keep saying that, and yet you keep…”

“Hihh…”

“… doing…”

“Hihkishiew!”

“… that.”

Toki sniffled miserably, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. The bandana was soaking by this point. Though his skull was redder than a virgin’s cheeks at the mention of something sexual, Pickles seemed glad he hadn’t asked for it back. Toki took a tentative breath through his nose and nodded conclusively. “Done.”

Nathan eyed him warily, then tossed him the football. “If you say so.”

“I swears.”

“Whatever, Toki, just bend the fuck over.”

“Pfft.”

Skwisgaar smirked defiantly as he received another warning glare from the front man. “Seriously, blondie, I’d watch it if I were you.”

It started drizzling just as Toki passed the football between his legs to Nathan, who staggered backwards as his teammates ran towards the end zone. “Heads up, you dumb fuck!” he cried before hurling the ball over Skwisgaar’s and Pickles’ heads.

The Swede whirled around and saw Toki taking off down the field, his arms cradling something while Murderface stood by watching stupidly. “Git ‘im!” Pickles cried and Skwisgaar sprinted after the rhythm guitarist, his long stride bringing him within a few feet of Toki in only a matter of seconds. With all the grace and ferociousness of a cheetah felling an antelope he leapt through the air and flung his arms around Toki’s waist, bringing them both down with a wet fwump.

“Gots ya!” Skwisgaar cried triumphantly, pinning Toki down between his legs. He was so drunk on victory he didn’t even realize that Toki didn’t have the ball, nor did he notice Murderface running past the two of them, cackling as he cried out “TAKE THAT SHUCKERSH!”

“Gets off, Skwisgaar!”

Skwisgaar shook his head, tossing back his blond mane. “Lets me savors dis moments.”

He felt Toki’s stomach rising under him and leaned out of the line of fire just in time. “Hihkshah! Hihkshiew!”

Skwisgaar smirked. “Can’ts gets me off dat easily.”

“Skwih… hih’ISHheah!”

Toki seemed to be trying to tell him something but his sneezes kept interrupting. In lieu of speaking he ripped his arm out of Skwisgaar’s grasp and pointed shakily at something beyond Skwisgaar’s shoulder. The Swede turned around just in time to take a football to the face with all the force of a battering ram slamming down the doors of a castle. It actually knocked him clean off of Toki and sent him sprawling into the grass beside him.

“Oopsh.” Murderface didn’t sound at all apologetic. “My bad.”

When Skwisgaar opened his eyes the sky was purple. Sputtering, he spat out a mouthful of water and glanced around in confusion. He thought he’d only closed his eyes for a second, but rain, not drizzle, was now pelting his face and his four band mates were staring down at him stupidly. Had they actually left him flat on his back to drown in the rain like a turkey looking up at the rain with its beak open?

“You’s okay Skwisgaar?”

Skwisgaar blinked, one eye at a time, and frowned at the vaguely familiar brunet. “Wait,” he said slowly, perplexed. “Amens’t you Skwisgaar?”

Before Toki could look too flattered Pickles pushed him aside, reaching down to help Skwisgaar sit upright. Nathan seemed satisfied enough that Skwisgaar was alive (nevermind the possibility of a concussion) and stormed away from the rest of them, scowling up at the storm clouds.

“We can shtill play in the rain,” Murderface insisted, noting Nathan’s brooding displeasure.

“I love playing in the rain,” he replied without turning around. “We played every high school championship in the rain. And won.” He faced them now, his eyes glassy with reminiscence. “And you know why we won?”

“Varför?”

Everyone gazed uneasily at Skwisgaar, who nonchalantly wiped a bit of drool from his mouth. Why he was drooling and inexplicably lapsing into his native language, nobody knew. (Certainly it had nothing to do with getting beaned in the face with a football). Nathan rolled his eyes and answered for them. “We won because we were awesome. But you guys… you guys are fucking losers.”

“Eckshcuse me?” Murderface folded his arms indignantly.

“Tangerine pigtails over there probably has skin cancer,” he said, nodding towards Pickles, who was picking at an unhealthy-looking mole on his shoulder, “and if not he’ll be peeling off dead skin for a week. One of my guitarists is probably brain dead now, and the other one can’t stop sneezing for more than five seconds.”

As if to prove his point Toki snapped forward with a violent “Hihskhhah!” that nearly sent him tumbling over into the wet grass. Skwisgaar just smiled vacantly.

“And Murderface, don’t even get me started on you.”

“C’mon, man, I jusht shcored a touchdown!”

“Are you really proud of that?” Nathan demanded. “Look around you, man. I feel like I’m in the Special Olympics right now.”

They all hung their heads in shame (except Skwisgaar, who was tearing handfuls of grass from the ground). Nathan took one last look at them before turning around. “I’m going inside to play NFL Blitz.”

After pouting in the rain for a moment they decided to join him.

Edited May 24, 2011 by AnonyMouse

[kilala]

This is awesome, so cute! Poor Skwisgaar! I lov how you refer to Pickles as tangerine pigtails, and Toki is just always adorable. I nearly died laughing. I love it, I really should try writing something short and 'fluffy', all my stories just end up really long and tragic and severly lacking in sneezes [which is supposed to be the whole point] then I never finish them. Sorry for my little rant there.

[Anonymouse]

I love your tragic stuff but I agree, you should try some fluffy stuff! I feel like this is one of the better things I've written for this forum because it was fun and short and fluffy. I was trying so hard to finish the last bit of the next Mono Duo chapter but it's gotten so serious that I'm having a hard time, so I decided to finish this one instead and it was so much easier. I'm glad you liked it!

[Da Greenz Yo]

Ahhhh, this is so funny! I almost died laughing near the end of your last update.

“And Murderface, don’t even get me started on you.”

“C’mon, man, I jusht shcored a touchdown!”

“Are you really proud of that?” Nathan demanded. “Look around you, man. I feel like I’m in the Special Olympics right now.”

They all hung their heads in shame (except Skwisgaar, who was tearing handfuls of grass from the ground).

-dead-

[March Hare]

Okay, you get a hundred extra points for using the word 'lambasting' and making me as a word fetishist doubly hot-and-happy with this story Also, that sneeze-punctuated Nathan-and-Toki-exchange is funny. And Skwisgaar... I would feel so sorry for him, except it's too hilarious. It really is. You have such a lovely way with humorous twists!