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( FRANKIE ) Do you think this ever goes away? Or does Tom Araya, too, positively piss his pants right before every gig?
( RONNIE ) I have no idea. Maybe he does.
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CHAPTER SEVEN. enjoy the show woodsboro, september 26, 1996
Lex is driving. Normally, they're riding shotgun, but they still feel slightly bad for calling Ronnie a psychopath, so they offered to drive, now. That means Ronnie's in charge of the music: There's Anthrax blasting through the stereo now, Medusa. There's a cigarette dangling from Ron's lips, and a lollipop from Lex'. Their hair looks flawless; they left the house slightly too late to ensure its perfection; even in the van, now, there's particles of hairspray dancing in the air.
"We can sleep over at Vic's place," Ronnie says, his hands tapping out the rhythm to the song on his thighs and his lips move in sync with the voice of Joey Belladonna.
"I'd rather drill a hole in my knee and fill it up with mustard, but sure," Lex' face remains stoic as they say it, eyes firmly on the road.
"You... what?" Ronnie knits his brows and bursts out in laughter; only briefly, for his bruised jaw starts to hurt from the movement. He puts a hand up to it, grimacing.
