Everybody has a past | By : urbanephoenix Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 2109 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction! I do not know any members of Marilyn Manson, and I do not profit from these writings. |
A/N: Again, I realise this isn't historically how things went down.
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1995. A run-down music rehearsal room.
“Oh fuck this, why do we get stuck looking at all these videos of drummers who think they’re fucking God’s gift to mankind?” Twiggy Ramirez complained, tossing his head back to get his long dreads out of his face.
“Someone has to, we need a fucking drummer.” Marilyn Manson rolled his eyes. Twiggy may be his best friend but he could be a real complainer sometimes. He pressed ‘play’ on the TV controller and a short redhead appeared on the screen who went on to play one of the poorest versions of “Lunchbox” the pair had heard so far. “Fuck him, next!”
Twiggy reluctantly got up and shoved the next tape in.
“Who’s this fucker?” Manson asked casually. He too was running out of patience.
“I don’t care what his name is, I just want to see if he can play drums.”
As it turned out, this was the first tape they’d watched featuring someone who was actually quite talented. The picture quality was terrible but behind the drums the duo could just make out the figure of a tall man with black and blonde dreadlocks, bashing away.
“He’s pretty good. I say we call him in.” Manson said, half talking to himself.
“Finally!” Twiggy exclaimed, getting up. “Here, give him a call, it’s a Las Vegas number.” He added, throwing Manson the tape case on his way out.
***
Brian hated talking on the phone, but the band needed a drummer. “Hi uh is this Ken? Yeah uh it’s Marilyn Manson, we went you to come to our practice rooms to talk about you possibly joining the band. Yeah, yeah tomorrow. Ok, the address is 45 Redbrick road. Be here at midday. Yeah sure. Bye.”
***
“Ok, wankers,” Manson said, addressing the band the next day. “That drummer is gonna be here soon. We’re just going to play a couple of songs with him to see if he’s any good. Twiggy and I will have the final say.”
“Why not us?” Pogo asked, gesturing to Daisy who stood silent in the corner clutching his guitar.
“Because Pogo we don’t have time for a democracy in this band. It’s a fucking dictatorship, get used to it.”
“Hello?” called out a voice from the far end of the room. Manson recognized the man as the one he’d seen on the video.
“Yeah come in.”
‘Wow, he sure is tall.' Marilyn thought to himself. 'Terrible outfit.'
Ken walked in slowly, clutching a pair of drumsticks. His outfit had been put on at the last minute, unwashed, torn jeans, combat boots and a sick-green sweater was all he could find in his apartment that morning. Being unemployed was taking its toll.
“Ok,” Manson said, addressing the drummer. “This is Twiggy, Pogo and Daisy. Real names can wait for later. Let’s see what you can do.”
Twiggy looked at the new man suspiciously. He looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. This guy was a bit older than he, so it seemed unlikely they’d crossed paths before, but there was something he couldn’t shake.
The quintet played a tight set, as it turned out, Ken really was as good as he’d appeared on the tape.
“Well, I’m satisfied,” Manson said as they finished playing “Dope Hat”. “Twiggy, your call.” With those words, the singer left the room, Pogo and Daisy not far behind.
Twiggy stared at the drummer. He still couldn’t place it.
“So, do I get the job?” Ken asked eagerly.
“I know you from somewhere, don’t I?” Twiggy asked, slowly taking a few steps forward.
“I don’t think so?”
“What’s your name?”
“Oh, sorry, how rude of me! Ken, but my friends call me Kenny.” The taller man explained, holding out a hand.
Twiggy started racking his brain. “And you say you went to LVU? You studied music?”
“I don’t think I told you that,” Ken answered, confused. “How did you know?”
“You SON OF A BITCH!” Twiggy screamed, taking a swing at the other man’s head. Unfortunately for him, he was too short to make contact.
Kenny quickly got out of the way, obviously shocked at this outburst. “Whoa! What did I do?”
Twiggy clenched his fists. “You… don’t remember me?” he asked slowly.
“No! Shit it must have been bad! Was I drunk? I don’t drink anymore, at all.” Kenny assured him apologetically.
“Yes you were fucking drunk but that’s no fucking excuse!” Twiggy yelled at the top of his voice. “’Take those clothes off like a good little whore.’ Sound fucking familiar!?”
Ken stared into space for a minute, desperately trying to work out what this small, dreaded man was talking about. Then it hit him. “Oh, shit…” he mumbled.
“’Oh shit’ is fucking right! How dare you fucking come here and ask to join my fucking band!”
Twiggy had been making so much noise the other band members couldn’t help but notice.
“What are you yelling about, Jeordie?!” Manson asked, re-entering the room. He only used the bassist’s real name in front of the others when he was mad.
“We’re not hiring this fucker!” Twiggy told him.
“Why the fuck not?” Pogo asked. “He was way better than all the others.”
“Shut up, Pogo.” Manson spat. “Twiggy, what’s wrong with him?”
“I know him. He’s not a good person…”
“Look, I fucked up in the past, but I’m a changed person now!” Kenny protested.
"Please Jeordie, give me another chance.”
“Another chance!? Why do you think you deserve one?!”
Manson was getting pissed off. He hated not knowing what was going on in HIS band. “Guys, what the fuck is going on?! Twiggs, I’m sorry but if you don’t have a proper reason, I see no reason why we shouldn’t hire him.”
Twiggy looked at his friend, shocked that he wasn’t being backed up. “But…”
“Look, we need a drummer. We have a goddamn show tomorrow, we can’t use the drum machine again.” He turned to Ken. “Play the show with us tomorrow, if you two haven’t worked your shit out by Monday morning, we’ll ship you back home. Does that suit you two ladies?”
Twiggy scowled. He hated not getting his way, but he couldn’t tell Manson the real reason he didn’t want this guy in the band, especially not in front of Daisy and Pogo.
As the band left the rehearsal room for the last time, Twiggy grabbed Ken by his shirt and looked him in the eye. “Don’t get too comfortable, fucker.”
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A/N 2: Yeeeah a lot of swearing in that chapter XD Think you know what's coming next? Bet you're wrong! Mwahahaha. New chapter up soon.
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