The kiwi-sized pustules on his arms, the surgical staples in
his face, the gray discoloration of his skin, and the snot-colored slime in his
hair, they did no favors in making Thor exit his house that evening. Only the
raw and intense voice of Kyle Houston and his metal band Resistance could serve
as his gravity towards public life. Dressed in little more than a Pantera
T-shirt and black jorts, Thor ventured into the arena and kept track of the
nasty facial expressions he was getting from people walking past him.
These people were on the verge of vomiting themselves inside
out. They shivered as though they swam in the Arctic Ocean .
They spit out their beer and coughed like drama queens in a viral ward. Few of
these patrons spoke to Thor, but when they did, it was in hushed tones about
how “fucking ugly” and “goddamn sickening” he looked. Even ears that have been
treated to grinding heavy metal music for god knows how long could pick up on
these intense whispers. A stream of green slime rolled down Thor’s eyeball and
splashed onto the pavement below.
The giant zombie swore he wouldn’t get into trouble that
evening. He imagined the scenarios with law enforcement playing through his
head like a depressing movie. He could toss and chomp on as many cops as they want,
but even he was no match for bullets and tasers. Thor was a human zit ready to
explode. When he passed into mosh pit, his rage was ready to explode when
somebody from the upper deck poured beer on his head and laughed with his
friends. He thought maybe coming to this Resistance concert was a bad idea.
Maybe life would be better in his house underneath the sewers. The rats
wouldn’t judge him. The bums would be in even less condition to judge. But
these fucking metal heads who thought they were badasses…ugh…
As Thor lumbered through the crowd, he earned more disgusted
looks and varsity jock laughter from everyone around him. He breathed heavily
in and out to calm his nerves, but all that did was get some slimy saliva on
those who worked so hard to back away. “Fuck it,” he thought to himself. “I
just want to listen to some goddamn music.” Ask and ye shall receive. The
minute he shimmied towards the center of the pit, the lights went out and the
crowd went ape shit for their favorite metal band. Thor cheered and roared
along with them, not giving a damn about the red saliva dripping from his
stapled lip.
The neon orange stage lights shone down upon the crowd and
they cheered even louder than before. The guitarists (rhythm and lead),
bassist, and drummer appeared onstage wearing Guy Fawkes masks and black hooded
robes, true to their band name. The crowd and Thor along with them nearly had a
verbal orgasm when the lead singer Kyle Houston approached the microphone
wearing camouflage khakis, black combat boots, a backwards ball cap, and a
sadistic grin. “What the fuck is up, Paulson
City
The drummer tapped the high hat three times in succession
and then the adrenaline-pumped music boomed throughout the arena. The crowd
bumped and shoved each other with such intensity that they resembled dominos
when they fell. Three hundred pound bouncers in black T-shirts swarmed in on
the scene to eject troublemakers by way of full nelson. Kyle Houston’s dirty
vocals were indecipherable through the shitty speakers, but Thor secretly never
cared as long as the music was good.
The guitars continued to grind, the double bass continued to
pump, and Kyle’s vocals sounded like a horror movie monster was ready to devour
its victims alive. Speaking of horror movie monsters, as the mosh pit
intensified, Thor found himself being shoved around and knocked to the floor a
few times. When the music got louder, Thor began feeling elbows, fists, and
feet against his already explosive skin. He bled like a fire hydrant and the
bouncers did nothing to stop these rowdy patrons. “I won’t get into trouble,”
Thor said to himself. “I won’t get into trouble….I won’t get into trouble…” As
soon as a sharp elbow connected with his cheekbone, he yelled, “Fuck it!” and
moshed right back.
Except Thor’s version of moshing was much more destructive
than an elbow to the face and more violent than a kick to the patella. These
people had one chance to behave themselves. They had one chance to accept Thor
for who he was. They had one chance to keep Thor from feeling lonely in a world
that type-casted the ugly as villains. They blew it. They blew it big time.
Thor never held back. He took big bites out of patrons’ arms and painted the
floors with blood. He grabbed them by the neck and tossed them around like
small children. He head butted one three hundred pounder and sliced himself
open worse than he did his victim. Thor even stuck his muscular arms out and
spun around in circles, clotheslining anybody who came in contact with him. For
his reward, Thor was treated to faster, heavier, and louder music from the fine
young men of Resistance.
Before the mosh pit could resemble a bombed slaughterhouse,
the chubby bouncers finally decided enough was enough and swarmed in on Thor.
They grabbed him by his bloody arms and legs and held on like boa constrictors.
But the harder they pulled, the harder Thor pulled as well. He sent them
rolling around on the floor like three hundred pound bowling balls. The heavy
metal zombie even took a bite out of a bouncer’s shoulder, causing the would-be
tough guy’s girlish screams to echo louder than Kyle Houston’s monstrous
growls.
Playtime was over for these pieces of heavy machinery in
black T-shirts. They punched, kicked, and elbowed Thor in every part of his
body imaginable. One guy even went for a groin kick and doubled the zombie
giant over. The bouncers continued to beat the shit out of this giant and
spread his pus-infused blood all over the dance floor. Whatever was left of the
crowd cheered on like wild animals as the bouncers grabbed a physically and
emotionally wounded Thor by the ankles and dragged him toward the exit.
“I said I wouldn’t get in trouble tonight,” Thor thought to
himself. “I said I’d be a good boy…What happened to me?...Where are these men
taking me?” Slimy tears poured from the zombie’s eyes like a schnoz suffering
from an allergic cold. The laughter and cheering from the heartless crowd
pumped even more viscous fluids from his eyeballs. And then the music stopped
and Kyle Houston shook his head in disgust.
“Let him go!” he shouted into the microphone. Everyone in
the room, including the bouncers, went quiet and doe-eyed at this strange
request. “Are you fucking retarded? I said let the poor guy go! Do it! I have
no interest in pressing charges!” As ordered, the bouncers reluctantly let go
of Thor’s ankles and slowly backed away with their hands defensively in the
air.
Kyle scratched his head in mock confusion and asked the
crowd, “What in the hell is wrong with you people? You think I didn’t see how
you guys treated this poor son of a bitch the minute he came in here? If you
guys pulled that shit with me, I’d want to cannibalize your sorry asses too!”
The crowd booed lightly, but were quickly silenced with a grating, “Shut up!”
from the lead singer of Resistance.
“So this is what humanity has come to, huh?” asked Kyle
while pointing an accusatory hand at his patrons. “This is how we treat people
who are different from us? I’ve always thought the whole reason for heavy metal
was to escape that bullying bullshit. I know that’s why I got into it. Yeah,
the guy’s got some…not so desirable features, but then again, I’d rather rock
out with a slime-covered motherfucker than a bunch of close-minded dip-shits
like you anyways. And just so you fuckers know, I had a cleft lip when I was a
kid. I had to have surgery to fix it and the hospital bill nearly wiped out my
family’s savings. My dad walked away shortly after. So when I see even the
least attractive looking guy being treated like this, I take it fucking
personally.”
Tears and snot slithered down Thor’s face as he slowly stood
back up on his feet, no worse for wear. The blood and slime on his body was all
in a day’s work. Kyle asked him what his name was and he answered with a
monstrous growl, “I am Thor!”
“Nice to meet you, Thor. If I got beaten up as badly as you,
I’d be Thor too!” joked Kyle, which got a modicum of laughter from the neutered
crowd. “I’m just kidding, man. Come up here to the stage, buddy. I’ve got
something for you.” The zombie trudged across the goop-covered floor and gazed
into his heavy metal hero’s eyes like a typical fan boy.
Kyle placed a hand on his shoulder with no regard for the
hygienic hazard before him. He said, “You did a sweet job defending yourself
against these morons over here. It took a whole gang of fat asses to bring you
down. I’ll bet you not even one of these bastards could do the shit you did
tonight. That’s because they can’t walk in your big ass shoes, my friend. I’ve
got a job offer for you. I’ll pay you a five-figure salary to travel all over
the world with me as my bodyguard. Are you in or are you in?”
Even more sludge poured from Thor’s eyes as his stapled lips
formed the biggest shit-eating grin imaginable, revealing his buttery yellow
teeth and serpentine tongue. “Anything is better than living in the sewers!”
which was Thor’s way of saying not only yes, but fuck yes.
“Nobody should have to live in the sewers no matter what the
hell they look like. Congratulations, you’ve got the job! Now get your big ass
onstage and shake my hand!” grinned Kyle. Thor launched himself onstage with
one step and hugged his new employer rather than shaking his hand, getting
slime all over Kyle and acquiring a lot of awkward looks from bouncers and
moshers alike. “Grow the fuck up, people, it’s nothing a long shower can’t
fix.” As soon as the sloppy embrace ended, Kyle said, “Your first day on the
job starts right now, buddy. Help me and my band get the fuck out of this dumpy
arena. And by the way, your first hour on duty is also your lunch break if you
know what I mean.”
Thor drooled with delight and whispered, “I know exactly
what you mean.” One guy in the crowd shit his pants so badly that he became
just as disgusting in appearance as Thor.
