The Killjoy

Enter David

Slash looked at Axl, his gold make up  making him glow in the passing street lights. " Uh, Axl, I, I dont know."

" What is it that you dont know?" Axl asked him.

Slash looked at the road in front of them and swallowed. " Ive hace never fucked a guy Axl, I'm not...I'm."

"You're not what?" Axl pressed.

"Im not like you, okay? Im not...Fuck, youre not making this easy."

"Why shoul I make this easy for you? So youre not like me. Like me what? Gay? Homo? A fag, god forbid?" Axl's voice was low , but it's brittle tone denoted his anger.

" Well no, I'm not a fuking fag, if that's what youre asking!"

"Stop the car!" Axl shouted.

"What? Why? We are only two blocks away from my aparment!"

"I fucking said to you to stop the godamn motherfucking car!" Axl shouted.

Slash parked the car in the curb with a curse.

"Get out of my fucking car!""

"Axl, please!"

"Out!"

Axl got himself into the drivers seat and took off on a cloud of dirt down the avenue.

"Godmnit! "Slash said, putting his hands behind his neck. "Fuck, fuck!" He shouted at the empty night.

When Izzy came to collect him the next morning, Slash was awaiting for him in the street.

"Youre late." Slash barked as he entered the car.

"Dude, its 7:05."

"Yeah so? You said youd pickme up at 7, not at 7:05."

"The fuck is your problem bro? Trouble with the red head last night?" Izzy asked Slash, giving him a strong cup of coffe.

"Oh bro, thats nice," said Slash, tasting the hot liquid, "but I'm ain't telling you fuck all about Axl."

"As if you need to. I was in their house when the fucker came in kicking everything on his way!" Said Izzy, his mirrored aviators reflecting the wet streets.

"You were at his house?"

"Course! Duff lives there too, remember?"

"Off course, how the fuck can I forget."

They arrived at the station and Izzy put a hand on Slash's arm. "I know it's not my bussiness bro, but what's going on between you and Axl?"

Slash's eyes were icicles. "You're right Izzy. It ain't your bussiness."

The boss met them at the entrance.

"Hudson, Stradlin! To my office! NOW! He thundered.

They looked at each other, mildly surprised, but somehow anticipating, given the previous night develoments. Mustaine had arms as long as the day had hours, and some consequenses were to be expected.

"The hell you two dumbfucks were thinking?" He charged, closing the door behind them. "Hudson, pointing a gun at a member of the congress is a fucking felony!"

Neewsted sighed, and let himself fall in his chair heavily. "Look, I have enough on my plate, and I when I say enough you two know what I mean, to have to worry about what two of my best man do when they go out drinking. That son of a bitch is not somebody I'd go pointing guns on if I'd were you, Hudson, and by Jesus, be fucking glad that worm Mustaine has for head of office decided not to press charges against you..."