A
Perfect Concert Evening
. . . . ."Gott
weiß ich will kein engel sein!" . . . . . . . . .
"YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH RAMMMSTEEEEIN!! YOWW! AAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
Flake hurries off stage, followed by Richard, Till, Christoph, Paul, and Ollie. They have just finished their second (ever) concert in Toronto (with major kick ass response OFFFFF COURSE!) Paul and Ollie high five while Till's grinning his ass off, talking to a roadie in flashby German.
Flake: AND TELL HIM TO TAKE CARE OF MY KEYBOARD. My baby....aghh...
The roadie gives him a thumbs up and lumbers off. The six large German men are standing around looking at each other.
Richard: What do we do now?
Paul: *evil grin* Well there's always----* digs excitedly under a pile of black curtain *----- THEEEEEEEEESE!!!!
His ever-trusty super soaker which he sprays the other bands members with. Richard grins and tackles Shorty.
P: AGHHHH! WAS DAS FICKEN??!?!?!? GET HIM OFF ME
Christoph: *laughing* Heck, let's just keep them there! *looks to Ollie*
Ollie: I vote for that.
Flake: So do I! For once it's not me on the bottom-
O/C/R/P: WHAT?!? NOT BONES!
F: *red in the face* Awww...shut up.
Till: *grinning while he looks to Tom standing feet away* Boys, I think we should get our selves in gear. We've got backstage stuff happening tonight--
P/R: *look at each other & stand up quickly, slicking back hair* Uh, yeah. We knew that....
C: Ah! Can't forget all the nice phone numbers--
P: Or the food! Who's in for bagels?
T/O: *look at each other and groan*
P: *everyone goes backstage to the dressing rooms* WHAAAAAAAT????????!!!!!!!?
The sweet German boys decide to go swimming in the pool outback. *heehee* They get dressed in swimming trunks and head outside for a few minutes. Till jumps right in; so does Christoph. Flake's standing at the side of the pool with Paul on one side of him and Richard on the other. Ollie's trying to set up his camera. Hey, you have to keep memories of Canada, right?
R: So, it's pretty...uh...damn hot ....out here, isn't it Paul?
Translation: Are you thinking what I'M thinking????
P: *taken by surprise* Uhhhhh......yeah. It.... Is.
Translation: What does he mean by THAT?
R: Yeah...it is....uhh.....so, Flake, do you have any problems with the temperature out here?
Translation: Okay, so here's the plan....
F: Not really. Well, sort of. Alright, ja.
Translation: Not really. Well, sort of. Alright, yes.
R: *nods* I see. I figured that. Umm....So, Paul. The pyrotechs were really killer tonight, heh?
Translation: Paul? Are you even ALIVE?
P: Yeah. I think I hurt my arm...
Translation: I don't get it- isn't Canada supposed to be land of the Snow? What the heck is it doing being this bloody hot?!?!?! I was expecting igloos. You know. Snow. SNOW. That white stuff....ewwwwww. Not THAT white stuff! AGHHHHHH. BUCK DICH!
R: Well, that...uh...sucks.
Translation: Wel, you're alive but not getting it...what's another way...?
P: So did the sparks catch you at all?
Translation: Wait...thinking..searching...searching...asking Jeeves...searching memory banks....searching....searching....searching....
Yes, Paul has a very big brain.
R: Yeah, they... hit.... me....o..w...
Translation: What on earth are you doing? Your eyes are rolling back, man!
P: Oh, ouch. Very ouch!
Translation: FOUND!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKIN NOW!!!!!! HAHAHAHA! MWAHAHAHA!!!!!!
R: Ja. Ouch.
Translation: By Jove, I think you've got it!
P: So, ehehmm....we should go for a swim before we go see the fans, eh Richard?
Translation: 1 . . . . .2 . . . .
R: Yeah. We are all yuck and stuff. Don't think we'll get girls that way
Translation: . . . . . .3!
F: Hey you two. Look at those stars up there. Aren't they so beau-------AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!
Richard and Paul push Flake into the pool, face first. They stand aside laughing and high fiving. Flake surfaces and glares at them. They glare right back then jump in. Till, Ollie, and Christoph are laughing their asses off, too.
O: HAHA! That's gonna be a kick ass photo. I'll send it to Guido and everyone can see--
F: WAS? ACK! NOOOOOOO! *makes several disgusted faces*
O: *completely innocent look* WHAT?!? It'll really make them laugh!
F: *sighs*
T: *looks at his watch* We need to get going. Everyone is already backstage.
*****Now, just for the reader's reference, add REALLY sexy-fine German accents to these words and BAM! You've got Rammstein!******
The group gets out of the pool and runs back to the dressing rooms. They put on their casual clothes-- imagine this: Flake in his trademark orange shirt-and-khaki-pants look; Till's wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans; Richard in the same thing; Christoph in his blue-shirt-and-adidas-pants look; Ollie in a blue shirt and black jeans; and Paul in black pants and a red shirt. They go through the nightclub to the lounge area where the security guards have escorted everyone who has backstage passes. Tom is standing outside.
Tom: So, you've returned! Everyone's been waiting-
P: Uh oh. *worried*
Tom: No, no. It hasn't been THAT long. They're alright. They're amusing themselves. There's this particular group of people, though, that REALLY are--
Suddenly, there's loud yelling from inside the room: "BUCK DICH, BABY! BUCK DICH!". Christoph and Till look at each other.
T/C: I WANT SOMMA THAT!!
P: *drool*
R: *looks up quickly* HEY! HEY! HEY! I know--
P: -- that voice!
R: I do--
P: -- believe--
R: -- that is --
P: -- the group--
R: -- from--
P: -- Henry--
R: -- and that mean--
P: -- that--
R: -- Elaine--
P: -- and Liz--
R: -- are--
P: -- here!!!!!
R: Hey Paul--
P: -- why are--
R: -- we--
P: -- talking--
R: -- like--
P: -- this?
R: *frowns* Okay--
P: -- this is--
R: -- absolutely--
P: -- pa--
R: -- the--
P: -- TIC!
R: Hey Till, your girl--
P: -- friend's--
R: *scowls* -- here.....*glares at Paul* Would you knock that off? It gets really annoying and --
P: -- time consuming?
R: *looks up in exasperation* AGHHHH! GODDDDDDDD--
P: -- DAMMMMMMMMITTTTTTTT!
Yes, the two of them are very attached. You often see them together just hanging out. You could swear they're pretty much brothers.
Tom: *lost* What....?!?? I don't get it.
F: *grin* You don't want to. You'll meet those girls and friends soon enough.
Tom: No, what's up with those two?
O: Paul ate sugar...must I say more?
Tom: Oh.
Silence.
C: Why are we standing around?!?! Aren't we supposed to be in THERE? *points to the door*
O: Let's go in.
Tom: Alright. No prob. Let's just open the door and......
The boys walk in and inside is quite a large group of fans! There's about 15 people in the room, 5 of which are close friends of the bands from Toronto who they have been corresponding with for the past year, since that *wonderful* concert in Toronto the year before--
F: HEY! Was das ficken?! Since when was THAT a wonderful frickin' concert, heh?
Narrator: But...but...b-b-but--
P: Are you harassing the narrator again, Flake?
O: STOP IT SCRAWNY!
F: Oh shut up...nein, I just really wanna know. Since when is me being dropped on my HEAD a wonderful thing????? I mean really! UGH!!!!! Whatever!
C: *rolling eyes* Oh my God. He's going through a--
C/T/O/P/R: -- FRICKIN' VALLEY GIRL PHASE!!!!! CRAPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!
Tom: *scratching head* What the hell are you guys up to NOW?
Rammstein members: *looking around stunned* What?!?!?!?
Silence.
Narrator: Umm....can I get back to my story, now?
T: *apologetic look* Sorry. Carry on.
Narrator: DANKE! (GEESH -- MEN!)
Anyway, back to
the lounge area. So, the boys walk in see a bunch of fans and
some friends . . . Everyone looks up and their eyes widen. . . .
Suddenly, three girls (Elaine, Helga, and Cathy) stand up and
proceed to ambush the band with grins the size of . . . Ummmm . .
. something.
Helga: HAHA! *hugs Schneider* Hej, hej, hej. It's Chrissy!
C: *laughs and gives a good-- and VERY HURTFUL-- tug on her hair*
H: *stands back and delivers a blow to his forehead, sending him back a few feet*
C: OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. Godammit...dammit...ficken...*mumbles the rest of the Profanity Dictionary*
H: I've said this before and I'll say this again-- YOU NEED A W O M A N. Read my lips. Woman.
C: But--
R: And Flake doesn't count!
C: Aww. . .
F: HEY! Listen yous. I've about had enough of your--
John/Nick: TACCCCC -- KKKKKKLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
F: AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
The other two friends of the band run and tackle poor, skinny Flake. Everyone watches, says nothing, then start laughing their asses off. Paul finds his super soaker (where'd the hell did THAT come from? I thought he threw it away?!?!?!) and goes up to the three who are on the floor-- Flake's wrestling back and having a good time(!) -- and sprays all three, an evil grin on his face.
P: MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!
C/T: *look at each other* NOT AGAIN!
P: *innocent look on his face* What?!?!?!
Narrator: Now back to the girls. . .
Cathy: Hey Ollie!! *hug for Ollie*
O: *grinning*
Narrator: Now, there was one other girl I mentioned . . . .
T: Umm, Narrator???????????????
Narrator: *looks up from the keyboard to Till over her glasses* Mmmm? What do YOU want?
T: Ummmm....that third girl....think, uh, Frau Lindemann...???????? *gets a funny look on his face. He's very worried. Very worried indeed. Looking around nervously*
Narrator: Uh, hmm, um....Huh?
T: AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH *whoosh, thump, ker plunk, CLUNK!!!!!* HEEEEEEEEEEEEELPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!! DAMMIT! FICKEN!
Narrator: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!?!?!?!!?!?!
Elaine: HI TILL!!!!!!!! *smooch*
T: *shaking his head but happy-- he got kissed. HAHA!*
Narrator: *stands up on the desk* Who the-- ?
Elaine: It's me!
R: Gee, I think we noticed
Elaine: Hey listen Mr Shiny Pants, I'd just really watch it. I'd just really watch it. We still have a score to settle.
F: *giggling*
O: What's so funny?
F: *giggling still*
C: Flake?
F: *all giggles*
C/O: FLAKE? *look at each other* Think he's had a bit too much of that milk water....
F: *giggling*
P: *soaks all of the roadies then turns to the group, glaring at Flake* Hey, man, what do you think you're doing?
F: *giggling...still*
P: HEY YOU. SHUT UP. THAT'S *MY* JOB!!!!!
F: *giggggg. . . Ohh, what the heck*
P: F O O D F I G H T!!!!!!!!! *looks around desperately for something* Ummmm.. . . Errr....*still looking*
Paul experiences exasperation as, sigh, he is unable to find any bagels or cherries or anything that's even related to food.
P: Hey. Who's idea was THIS? How can you have Rammstein perform here and NOT have food? WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?!?!?! AGHHHHH! I'm going to go insane. Need. Food. Must. Find. Food. F.O.O.D. *passes out*
R: Oh great, now you've killed him
Narrator: I most certainly did NOT! . . . . . . Flake did
Flake: *looking around* What? What?! *sigh* Alright. *puts out his wrists* Bestrafe mich . . . *grumbles about how he never seems to get away from it*
Narrator: What Flake?
Flake: Nothing. Nothing. *grumbles about how Richard's wardrobe is just so special and how he ought to get Till's flame thrower and help take care of the precious wardrobe*
While Elaine is helping poor Till up off of the ground-- laughing as usual-- Christoph is putting the handcuffs on Flake's wrists, chortling away. You may wonder why. Well . . . uh . . . see, there was this bet. And . . .ummm . . . well . . . to put it bluntly: FLAKE LOST.
Narrator: By the way, reader, if you had noticed, there was A LOT of time in between the knocking over of Till and Elaine helping Till off of the ground. WHAT WERE THEY DOING ON THAT DAMN FLOOR ALL OF THAT TIME?! Wait. . . you know . . . I really don't think we need to know. Honestly.
Elaine: I can give you ALLLL of the juicy details-
Narrator/R/C/O/F: DON'T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
P: Aww . . . Maybe *I* want to know!
Everyone turns to Shorty who had just woken up and was trying to sit up.
P: WHAAAT? I was only saying . . .
Narrator: Go back to sleep, Paul. *Throws a really big trout at Paul and knocks him out*
T: *scratching his head* What does a trout have to do with anything in this story?
R: *looks hopeful* OH! OH! I KNOW this answer . . . Umm . . . Laichzeit, right?
Narrator: Don't even try to guess. Or I'll slap you with a very big trout. Can we get back to the story?
Cathy: Please do!
*************************to be continued further SOMETIME IN THIS LIFETIME**********************