>>34701240
fuck yes

>>34701240
BEST QUEST RIDES AGAIN

>>34701240
(2/2)

You wake up to the sound of music. It's not the kind of music you were sent here to restore - it's church music. You're awake and alive, but tangled in a blanket on the floor of that damn priest's study. The DJ is still comatose on the couch, under another blanket. The priest is nowhere in sight, and his drumset is covered under its sheet.

Why are they singing? It's Saturday, right?

>[]Take stock of the situation
>[]CRASH THE SERVICE
>[]Attend the service
>[]Write-in

(The CAPSLOCK options are usually more violent/metal/rockin'/brutal than other listed options. They are neither recommended, or instant-fuckup Big Red Buttons.

Ok, they're the Biggest Reddest Buttons.)

>>34701453
>[]Take stock of the situation
>Check in on the Girl

>>34701453
>>[x]Take stock of the situation

>>34701453
Go in and offer your services. Christian rock is still rock...however bad it might be.

>>34701453
You untangle yourself from the blanket, get up, and take stock of the situation. Your suit is rumpled and creased, there's $150 in cash in your jacket pocket, your cellphone has somehow been smashed beyond repair, and you're carrying a wallet full of the paper and plastic necessary for the middle-class suburban life.

You walk over to the woman sleeping on the couch. She looks young to you, but you've never been good at judging ages, and usually try to err on the side of caution. She's young enough to be your daughter, and that's what counts. Short, brown hair, a few freckles, and there's a pair of glasses laying on a nearby bookshelf - you're sure they don't belong to the priest. For someone who goes around wearing a giant mouse-head helmet, she looks very normal. She's dead to the world, but luckily she's still got a pulse.

And it's entirely your fault that sh'es knocked out like this. You ate a piece of her soul on Friday night, in front of an ecstatic crowd. Oops.

You notice that the priest has left his laptop on his desk, and he seems to have left it logged in.

>[]Investigate laptop
>[]Join the service
>[]CRASH THE SERVICE

>>34701893
>[X]Join the service

>>34701893
>[]Investigate laptop

>>34701893
>[X]Whatever action we do, do it while ROCKING quietly on the guitar

>>34701893
>>[x]Join the service
The priest (I recall we still don't know his name) mentioned the diocese has been trying to smoke him out. Let's go check if the reason is his sermons...

>>34701893
Wake her up with a kiss.

>>34701893
>[X]Join the service

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>>34702084
>Young enough to be our daughter
>Wake her up with a kiss

>>34702139
If we're gonna be a rock star we'll need to start fuckin chicks that are that young. As long as she's legal it's all ok.

>>34702196
you stop that shit right now, I said in the last thread that we get famous first, THEN comes the drugs. That goes double for sex.

>>34702196
I dunno, if we're midlife aged, we'd be around 40.

so unless we're the sort that'd have a kid at 20...

>>34701893
(1/?)

Tempting as the unsecured laptop is, you decide to check out the service instead. On your way out, you pick up your guitar and sling it on your back. It's a good bit the worse for wear, and you wonder how fast you're going to be going through guitars. Maybe you should try to get a sponsorship deal, or something.

You make your way down a couple of hallways, and find yourself outside the big doors to the back of the sanctuary. You feel a bit awkward about walking in in the middle of things.

But hey, it's not like they can do anything worse than stare at you and whisper, right?

You open the door quietly, and step inside the sanctuary.

>Announcement
I am currently in the middle of a large thunderstorm. I might lose internet at any time. If this happens, I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience.

>>34702268
Not unlikely.

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>>34701453
>awake and alive
>comatose
hmmmm I think I like this quest

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>>34702321
Nobody pays much attention as you slink into the pew nearest the door. A white-haired man catches your eye and smiles welcomingly, then turns back toward the front. Huh.
You see the priest in the pulpit - apparently you barely managed to make it for the sermon. He seems like a different man from the one you met last night. He looks respectable, sounds reasonable, and comes off as rather impressive in his robes. And he's not saying anything particularly strange - he's preaching about the danger of confusing 'things outside my cultural comfort zone' with 'sin'. Maybe it's not a commonly given message (you haven't attended anywhere regularly since the divorce), but it seems sensible enough.

Eventually, the sermon finishes, and it's time for another hymn.

>[]Sing it from where you are
>[]STORM THE STAGE
>[]Write-in

>>34702651
Calmly wait it out

>>34702651
>[x]Sing it from where you are

We're not getting any favours from those downstairs seeing as we're on a mission to fuck them up, so we may as well make nice with upstairs

>>34702651
>>[]Write-in
The band. THE BAND!

>>34702801
Please elaborate.

There's someone playing the piano, but there's nothing like a praise band here.

>>34702682
This, humming is also adequate.

>>34702845
My guess is he's just qouting Blues Brothers

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>>34702651
You're going to play it cool. This isn't your stage - it's the Man Upstairs' stage, and you're not going to try to steal it. Hell's already unhappy with you, and you don't want to get it from both ends.

That said, you're still going to sing with the congregation, and see if there's anything interesting you can pick up. They're certainly better at mass singing than most concert-goers, and you aren't familiar with the style of four-part harmony this hymn's using.

Eventually, the hymn ends, and the priest walks down to a table set in front of the pulpit. The ushers (including the white-haired man who smiled at you earlier) come forward and start passing trays of bread and wine in those plastic shot glasses through the audience, as the priest delivers the table homily.

And, dear Christ, he's smiling this time.

>[]Take communion when it comes to you
>[]Don't take communion when it comes to you

>>34703156
>[]Don't take communion when it comes to you

>>34703156
>[X]Don't take communion when it comes to you
I'm pretty sure we're not confirmed, you're not supposed to take the communion unless you are.

>>34703156
>[x]Don't take communion when it comes to you

>>34703156
>[]Take communion when it comes to you
What could possibly go wrong?

>>34703156
(1/2)
It's the other side of the coin. The danger of thinking 'my cultural comfort zone' is the same thing as 'a holy life'. He's telling them that they should treat every sinful sexual indulgence with the vitriol they shower on the homosexual movement, he's talking about traffic laws and submission to the appointed government, he's listing things that fit well into the suburban American dream, and he's showing how they're condemned as much as the blasphemies pushed to the edge of polite society.

It occurs to you that, in his position, he's probably intimately acquainted with every sin his congregation succumbs to, and can call at least one face to mind for everything he lists. There's a buzz in the room - you can tell that a lot of people are whispering. He even gets some gasps and "how dare he"s.

"The mirror of the Law," he says, with a beatific smile on his face, "shows us our imperfections, not other people's. Therapists are plastic surgeons, priests hand you a razor blade and hold the mirror for you. The holy life's between you and God - there's not much we can do to help."

You let the communion tray pass you by, and you see a few people quietly make for the exits as he continues.

"And, in the end, you can't do it. I can't do it, for me or for you. We can't save ourselves. That's why we need to eat Christ's body, and drink His blood, to take His holiness into ourselves. WE SERVE THE DEAD GOD UNTIL HE LIVES AGAIN! EAT, DRINK, AND GO FORTH!"

>>34703584
He seems tired, let's give him a healthy dose of ROCK

>>34703584
You're not the most shocked person in the room, as the damn priest grabs the bread loaf and wine chalice off the table, kicks it over, and strides toward the door, robe billowing behind him. He rips a huge hunk of bread off with his teeth, and washes it down with the wine, spilling it extravagantly on his white robe.

The congregation is frozen. You're pretty sure this isn't a normal Sunday service for them - the priest's burning his bridges in a fire big enough to light up the night.

You've a got a little bit of time before he makes it to you.

>[]ROCK
>[]Run, grab the DJ and the laptop, and be waiting on the motorcycle in front of the building when he comes out
>[]Write-in

>>34703754
>[]Run, grab the DJ and the laptop, and be waiting on the motorcycle in front of the building when he comes out
>[]ROCK

>>34703754
>[X]ROCK
Also I've changed my mind about the communion shit, lets eat some dead jesus

>>34703754
>>[x]ROCK
He's making an exit, let's give a sound worthy of an exit.

>>34703794
This works.

>>34703754
>[x]Run, grab the DJ and the laptop, and be waiting on the motorcycle in front of the building when he comes out
>[x]ROCK

>>34703754
>[]ROCK
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTO1n7GNXyM

god this quest is so fucking metal i love it

>>34703754
>[X]ROCK

It has to be done.
>the damn priest grabs the bread loaf and wine chalice off the table, kicks it over, and strides toward the door, robe billowing behind him. He rips a huge hunk of bread off with his teeth, and washes it down with the wine, spilling it extravagantly on his white robe.
if there's a perfect time to rock, this is it

>>34703988
I know. It's great innit?

It just needs more Blues Brothers references

>>34704014
dude the priest is gonna be our new rock brother

>>34703988
blacker than the blackest black times infinity

>>34704014
Well, we said "We're on a mission from God" when we met the Priest.

>>34703754
ROCK then grab the DJ an laptop

The more this quest progresses, the more the MC resembles Jack Black

Would a former priest be okay with drumming on blood for the blood god?

>>34704144
Of course he would. He's metal as fuck, we've already seen that.

>>34704113
Don't ruin this for me

>>34704175
You know it's true

im going to go make some food (eggs beacon and toast) so if we get the opportunity to can we investigate the ritual to succeed so we don't kill or weaken our self the convince the DJ to join us

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>>34703754
Alright, he's leaving? You're gonna give him a sendoff. You stand up and swing your guitar out in one smooth motion, then hit the biggest, most grandiose chord you can imagine. Your guitar is to other guitars what a church organ is to panpipes. This is the heaviest recessional the aisle has ever witnessed, and the very stones seem to quiver.

Suddenly, the clouds break a little. There's a shaft of light, suffused with dust motes, picking out the priest like the finger of God. He keeps walking, unblinking, the beam keeping pace with him like a spotlight.

He's not too far away now, and you're keeping up the regal, soaring chords. Another ray shoots through a stained glass window, covering you in reds, blues, and dancing yellows. You blink in the brightness, but you keep playing - if there's ever a time to ROCK, this is it.

The priest advances, chalice held high, shining in the sun. "Do you confess your sins, place your only hope in Christ, and beg for this baptism?" He's looking straight at you. And he's not smiling at all.

>[]Stay here
>[]Get the girl and the bike

>>34704175
>Implying that's a bad thing
>Implying you wouldn't watch Jack Black, an ex-DJ and an ex-Priest rocking out and fighting demons if he made a film about it

>>34704113
NO

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>>34704225
>Stay here
Aw yeah double baptism

>captcha
oh shit, what's going on

>>34704225
>Stay here
We must accept our destiny. An Angel gave us our bike and our first stage, a priest is our drummer and our mission is to fight demons. We're clearly working for the G-man right now.

>>34704225
Stay here, this gon' be gud

>>34704230
>Implying that Jack Black doesn't ruin everything he touches

>>34704225
>>[]Stay here

>>34704225
>[x]Stay here
We shall become the chosen of the Lord

>>34704294
Brutal Legend was good.

>>34704225
>[]Stay here
>THE GUITAR IS MY BODY, THE MUSIC IS MY SOUL!

You are now Imagining the G-man himself headbanging to our riffs.

>>34704225
>[x]ROCK for confirmation

>>34704225
I WELCOME THE LORD IN MY HEART, FATHER
HE IS MINE AND I AM HIS, FOREVER

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>>34704315
Kung-Fu Panda was way better then it had any rights to be. Two movies with fucking great villains.

>>34704324
>G-man
>Rock
I assume you mean God but all I can see is the G-man from half life doing this

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iXQVA-v5igA

>>34704294
>Pick of Destiny
>In fact, Tenacious D in general
>Kung-Fu Panda
>Brutal Leg-
>>34704315
Already been mentioned by mah nigga over here.
>>34704324
>The hand of God comes out of the skies, and it's doing pic related

>>34704397
nice pic, fag

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Doing god's work is my mission in life now.

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>>34704397
Forgot pic.

>>34704397
>No pic

You saying the Lord ain't real?
That's heresy boy.

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>Implying MC ain't Oji Tanaka

>>34704368
I will concede kun-fu panda, but no more. But let's agree to disagree for now, I don't want to de-rail this wonderful thread.

>>34704462
Get out, we're 100% westerner

>>34704514
His ethnicity or nationality doesn't really matter. It's mostly the idea of an office worker bringing the band back together and saving the world through the power of ROCK!

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>>34704225
(1/2)
You always hoped your life would have a Moment. You know, a point where everything suddenly comes into focus, angels start singing, and you make the Right Choice in front of Everyone Who Matters. Once, you thought your marriage was that Moment, and look how that turned out. You finally settled into the security of knowing it's never going to happen, you're never going to have that Moment. And there's something to be said for cooking your disappointment and chewing on it

There's also something to be said for not being disappointed at all.

You keep playing, the riff grows under your practiced hands as you sink to your knees in front of the priest. He towers over you, bathed in the pure sunlight, holding the goblet aloft.

"YES!" you shout, "YES! I CONFESS! I PLACE MY ONLY HOPE IN HIM, AND HIS RIGHTEOUSNESS! I AM HIS, AND HE IS MINE FOREVER!"

You stop playing as he pours the wine over your upturned face, the liquid soaking into your hair, flowing into your open mouth, and running down your creased suit.

...That's funny, you stopped playing, but the music didn't stop. Someone's still carrying those chords, but not on a guitar. You open your eyes, ignoring the sting of the wine, and see wheels within wheels, eyes atop eyes, a vast mechanism of spinning, pieces, facing every direction at once. The congregation is rapidly flattening themselves.

A fucking angel is carrying your tune.

>>34705075
>"Hi 44. How's it going?"

>>34705134
It's gonna be cramped with 3 on a bike

>>34705177
Don't worry, as was mentioned earlier, 44 has four wheels.

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>>34705075
"Arise," the priest says, taking your hand "arise, newly baptised in the Lord. Arise, and ROCK!"

The two of you walk out through the big doors, the priest holding the chalice aloft in in one hand and holding you hand high with the other. The angel is still singing in the sanctuary, hanging like a titanic chandelier in the middle on the two-story space, illuminating the room with glory.

As soon as he's out of sight of the congregation, the priest says "we've got to get out of here," as he strips off his heavy robes.

"Why?" you ask.

"It's always best if you leave them wanting more, or they'll figure out you gave them all you've got," he answers, "grab the girl and my laptop, and meet me out front."

The offfice is much as you left it. Carrying the DJ and the laptop at the same time isn't fun, but you manage to get out of the door with both of them. As soon as you exit the building, you hear the unmistakable noise of a Harley. And your bike's sitting exactly where you left it.

Just as you're getting everything situated on the motorcycle, the damn priest himself pulls up, a powerful V-engine vibrating underneath him.

"Let's ride."

>[]Follow the priest
>[]Lead the priest to your home
>[]Ask if the priest has a clue where to go next
>[]Write-in

>>34705512
>Lead the priest to your batca-- I mean home

>>34705512
>[x]Follow the priest
>[x]Ask if the priest has a clue where to go next

>>34705512
>>[]Write-in
Go where the road takes you.

>>34705512
>>[x]Follow the priest

>>34705512
>>[]Ask if the priest has a clue where to go next
Having an idea about our next destination would be nice.

>>34705599
But not necessary. It's better to go where the road takes you, or follow the path without knowing the destination.
Fucking poetic, son.

>>34705512
>[]Ask if the priest has a clue where to go next

>>34705665
It's the journeys that matter, destinations just give us an excuse to undertake them

>>34705751
>>34705665
>muh poerty
people, we're on a mission from the big man himself, we need to get on with it stat

>>34705783
It's not a clear path though, we shall let the Lord guide us on our road to greatness and good.

>>34705512
"So where are we going?" you ask him, as the two of you circle toward the parking lot's exit.

"My storage unit," he tells you. The crome on his bike gleams, and you wonder how much time he spends polishing it, "the girl should be safe enough there. We can't hunt rockin' demons with a comatose girl on our hands."

"Unless," you respond, "you can get the fish out of me and graft it back on to her."

"Can you really risk losing your powers right now?" he asks, "Can you run the risk of being killed by your drummer before we even perform together?"

"Well," you say, as the two of you turn toward the exit, "the drummers are always supposed ot be the crazy ones."

>[]Leave her at his storage unit
>[]Leave her at your house
>[]Time for the priest to go fishing in your soul

>>34705993
>>[x]Leave her at his storage unit

>>34705993
>[]Time for the priest to go fishing in your soul

>>34705993
>[]Time for the priest to go fishing in your soul

>>34705993
>Time for the priest to go fishing in your soul

>>34703754
Best priest ever.

>>34705993
>[]Time for the priest to go fishing in your soul

[X] Time to fish!

We hurt the girl, we need to make that right.
Also, the we seem to be on hell's shitlist. We cant just leave the girl either, this is a Quest. You cant just do that one evening, who's going to look after the girl when were kicking possed rocker ass.

>>34705993
First rule of questing:
ALWAYS save the girl

>>34706263
>QM tells us multiple times this could kill us
>/tg/ does it anyway because they have to save the girl

Name a rock act that doesn't have a couple of girls whose lives they wrecked.

>>34706188
Not to mention she'll hopefully be our keyboardist. We can't leave her, she helps us rock properly!

>>34706326
All fools that sold their souls to Satan.

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>>34706188
>this is a quest
>>34706263
>first rule of questing

>metagaming this hard

>>34706326
You mean AFTER they got possessed by demons. We didn't sell our souls, and we're still a pretty cool guy. Cool guys don't let people die after accidentally eating a bit of their soul.

>>34705993
Put her sitting up right in a chair
Start playing the most amazing rift we can
When we feel the warp overtaking us, we scream
We scream so loud that her soul can't ignore it
We scream her life back into her
We shoot rays of light out of our fucking mouth that are filled with the power of rock
The light of rock illuminates her body as the priest beats a heartbeat on the drums
As her body resonates with the holy riffs
She lifts into the air
She will see the light
Give a man a fish and they will eat for a day
We will show her THE LIGHT
Teach a man to fish and they will feast on GLORIOUS ROCK
SHE WILL LEARN TO FISH

>>34705993
(1/?)
"Yeah," you say, "I'll take that risk for her. We can't just leave her unconscious somewhere."

"Alright," the priest says, rolling his eyes at you, "your funeral, and I'll officiate. Follow me."

It's not your usual drive. It's a cycle trip through the back roads, through small forests nestled between gas stations and oilfield suppliers. The wind blowing through your wine-matted hair is cool for once, and the clouds are blocking out the sun again. Looks like rain's coming later today.

You've already passed a couple of storage facilities, and you remember why there are so many right here. Storage units spring up on land that's just close enough to an expanding urban center to potentially have value one day, but doesn't have that value yet. Storage units are a decent way of securing a small cash flow out of the land until it becomes truly valuable.

There you go, thinking about familiar things to re-assure yourself, like a kid repeating the 151 pokemon while waiting for the dentists. Well, now they had a few more to count, according to the box of the game you'd mailed to your son for his birthday last year.

"You see, son," you mutter to yourself, "your father died in magic accident while a priest tried to scoop a girl's fish out of his soul."

It's not the obituary you want. Once you get to the unit, you can just tell the priest you've chickened out, and he'll laugh at you.

>>34706772
>Once you get to the unit, you can just tell the priest you've chickened out, and he'll laugh at you.
Oh no you fucking can't. That shit ain't metal. You gotta be metal, son.

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>>34706772
Yeah, right, you think as you pull into the parking lot after him. You're not backing out on this one, especially not in front of a guy who gets under your skin like the damn priest. The two of you idle your bikes over to the priest's unit, and he starts rummaging through his pockets for his keys.

This is your last chance to back out, laugh it off. It's not what a real man would do, but fuck, you've spent most of your adult life as an accountant, not a Real Man.

All of this crazy stuff you've been doing lately isn't like you at all.

>[]Chicken out
>[]Be Metal. Roll 1d100 for operation success.

>>34706921
BE METAL
MAKE THE DAMNED PROUD

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>34706921
Die don't fail me now

Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>34706936
Rolling right this time.

>>34706921
>[]Be Metal. Roll 1d100 for operation success.

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>34706921

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>34706921
Forgot dice >>34706959

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>34706921
>>[]Be Metal. Roll 1d100 for operation success.

>>34706945
>>34706955
... Are we using the 40k RPG rolling system? If so, we won.

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>>34706955

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>>34706990
Sure hope this counts, OP didn't specify number of rolls

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>34706921
I LOVE ROCK AND ROLL

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>>34706990
Shame it's too late

>>34706945
>>34706955
>>34706976
Good thing I got you fags covered

>>34707059
Dunno, no number of rolls was specified.

>>34707133
last thread he said either best of 3 or average of 3, can't really remember

>>34707169
Pretty sure it was best, but I can't keep track of what dice system is used in each quest.

>>34707169
>average of 3
73+12+2=87, which divided by 3 is 29.
Fuck.

>>34707220
>73+12+2
where the fuck did you get those numbers? it's 19, 2, and 74

>>34707247
Wrong buttons. Plus it's half 1 over here.
I want to sleep, but this thread is too awesome.
19+2+74=95, which divided by 3 is about 32.
Still fucked.

>>34707284
2:28 am here, m8, you're just hallucinating

>>34707308
CET, ftw

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>>34707323
You know it

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>>34707339

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>34706921
>[x]Be Metal. Roll 1d100 for operation success.

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>>34706921
The priest finally unlocks the door and rolls it up. There's a thick, black curtain hanging down just inside it, so you can't see what he's got in there. He takes the DJ inside while you go park the bikes.

By the time you get back to the unit, it's begun to rain. When he hears you coming, the priest calls out for you to shut and lock the door, which you do. Then you step through the curtain.

You were wondering earlier why the priest doesn't just store all his stuff at the church. Well, now you know. Against one wall, there's a small toolbench with cabinets underneath and a grinder and a drill press on to of it. A plethora of knives, swords, and other bladed implements are secured on pegboard above it. The opposite wall is covered in bookshelves, a few of which contain books, the rest of which are crammed with parchment in plastic bags, glass bottles and jars full of colored liquids and unknown objects, and a foot-high stack of small metal crosses. There's a bundle of wooden stakes in the corner.

The DJ is languid in a cot against the back wall, but you have to peer around the main attraction to see her.

>>34707474
are you in australia?

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>>34707474

>>34707534
Nah.

I'd post a flag, but I'd prefer not to have my location linked to this trip. I'm sure you can understand.

>>34707474
So he monster hunts in his spare time?

>>34707625
you're not FWG, relax

hey guys, next chance we get we should check out that book 44 gave us.

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>>34707474
The 'main attraction' is the barbaric-looking chair with restraining straps on it that dominates the room. It looks like it's seen a lot of hard use, and you're pretty sure those are bloodstains on it. The single naked 60-Watt bulb on the ceiling paints it in a garish light.

It's located in the exact center of a complex circular figure painted on the concrete floor.

"As you should know from your general education," the priest says, smiling at your disquiet, "the Inquisition's chief weapon is the Comfy Chair."

Well, you certainly hadn't expected this, but you're going to go through with it. You sit down in the chair and try to tell yourself it's just like going to the dentist, only with straps to hold you down. And the dentist is usually decent enough to clean off the blood between patients.

"You know," the priest says, as he straps you down tightly, "the diocese didn't want me tied to a local church because they thought I was more valuable in other roles."

"Do you want to be awake for this?" he asks as puts on a pair of those latex gloves. And snaps them, the bastard.

>[]Yes.
>[]No.

>>34707810
> Yes

>>34707810
Yes.

>>34707810
>[x]Does it matter?

>>34707810
>[]Not really but I'm gonna be.

>>34707810
>[]Yes.

>>34707810
>Yes
Feel the pain.

>>34707810
>>[x]Yes.
Hey priest, one thing I'd like to know is the name of the person who is operating me.

>>34707977
>inb4 Kotomine Kirei

>>34707977
God will guide his hand, so it doesn't matter. Much.

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>>34707977
MFW somebody finally calls me on the fact that I haven't named a single character, after a thread and a half.

>>34708104
I like it.
Just rockers who ride into town united by the music, blow everybodies mind, then ride off into the distance to find more places to play. They don't need anything more or anything less.

Well, and probably battling demons too

>>34708104
Librarian Quest went 12ish threads or something without naming the MC, at least we could just dub our members "the drummer" or "the bass(ist)" or something

>>34707810
(1/?)

"Yes," you say, and you hope your voice isn't trembling, "I can take it."

The priest cocks an eyebrow at you. "That's the first time anyone's chosen that. Of course, most of them never got a choice," he says, grabbing a bottle out of one of the drawers. It looks familiar, and then it hits you - you last saw one of those at a party in college. The priest pours Everclear onto a piece of cloth, takes one of the knives down from the wall, and wipes the blade down.

"Now," he says, in a conversational tone, "this may hurt a bit, but it's sterile."

Is this guy just trying to rattle you? "I'm glad to know it'll never have any children," you say, hoping bravado will get you through this, "but it'd help me more to know the name of the man who's about to operate on me."

"Oh? That's right," he says, "I'm not sure I got your name either," he continues, as he traces some kind of design on your forehead with a fine-point sharpie, "but mine's John James, the man with two first names."

You'd be willing to swear on a stack of bibles that's an alias, and his grin isn't helping your trust any. But it's probably the best answer you're going to get.

"I'll know yours by the time I'm done with this," he says, drawing a needle full of some liquid from one of the jars, "no need to tell me."

File: Johnny.jpg (25 KB, 389x600)

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>>34708104
>44
>not name

File: Captcha.jpg (2 KB, 300x57)

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>>34708300
I've been caught in my web of lies.

Technically, you guys named him/her/IT/that being.

>This fucking captcha

>>34708383
See
>>34704284
They're on to us, man, game over

>>34708292
(2/?)
"You know," he says, as he swabs your forehead with some of the fierce alcohol, "I shouted down a bishop once, I wanted to be a real priest, the kind of priest they say they're training you to be, not the kind of priest that hunts horrors of the night."

"If this is your bedside manner," you say, "it's terrible."

"I haven't had much practice," he admits, as he pulls up his own sleeve, "everyone that deals with monsters, no matter what side they're on eventually becomes a bit fucked up - they don't value small talk very much." He jams the needle into his arm and shoots himself up on, well, whatever was in that jar.

"Does fighting monsters change people?" you ask, hoping he'll quote Nietzsche. If he goes for that 'he who fights monsters' stuff, you'll call him on his unoriginality. That's been a plot point in half the TV shows you can remember plopping down in front of after work with a beer in your hand.

You living room suddenly feels very far away.

"No," he says, gritting his teeth at something, "you just don't last long around monsters if you're a decent person. They use that decency against you. Now," he says, grabbing a knife - you hope it's the one he sterilized, "it's time to operate."

>>34708695
(3/?)

At least he's fast. That's the only positive thought you can have about whatever he's doing to your forehead. The raw alcohol burns something fiearce, and the blood is running into your eyes. You try blinking it out, but that just spreads it and turns your vision red. You hear him put the knife down, and then the unmistakable noise of the gloves coming off.

"Now for the fun part" is the last thing you hear before everything falls apart.

TheresafilmredvisiontheoverhlafismovingstillstilleverythingiticetheresaholeinyourheadyourheadisnothingfishpondfishpondfishpondhookluredraindrainingredfilmpollutionTHEKNIVESONTHEWALLAREEATINGYOUhookedabootthrowitbacknotfishnoseabassinapond,

You're in a chair. You are the chair. Youare a fishpond. A man is prodding your depths with his rod, a long, flexible rod, it's poking things, things

anotherbootatreeoverthepondthetreeisscreamingthemanfightsthetreeeverythingswet,red,red,red,red,red,red,drippingeverywhere

The universe is blurry, and you're on the outside, looking in. And then you realize that you're looking in a mirror, and you're the universe, and you're a fishpond below a tree, and you are the tree
andthemanisinyourpondandyougrabhisandtrytobreakhimandheisslipperylikeafishandslipsintothepondandthereisalargesplashsplashsplashasplashofredafishscale

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>>34708926
(4/4)
You don't remember how long this goes on for. Later he tells you he was only in your head for half an hour before he finally found the DJ's fish, but it felt like forever to you.

When you come to your rightful senses again, there's a fishead floating in the air above you. A drop of its blood spatters on your chest, and you look and realize your chest is coated in blood. The priest is untying a belt from around his arm - you can count two or three needles lying on the workbench, and a styrofoam cup.

There's a largeish foam cooler on the ground outside the circle, and the priest starts throwing huge nightcrawlers fromthea styrofoam cup at the fish's open mouth.

>[]What's up, doc
>[]What the Hell did you do to me?
>[]This is the strangest way I've ever woken up from a binge
>[]Write-in

>>34709131
>Begin writing a song about your extreme trip

>>34709131
>[x]What's up, doc

>>34709131
>Bring me my guitar

>>34709131
That was metal as fuck, I need to write a song about it

>>34709131
>>[x]This is the strangest way I've ever woken up from a binge

>>34709131
Let's see if we can help by playing a tune to help bring back our DJ buddy

>>34709131
This
>>34709161

Aren't we supposed to be at work today?
We called out yesterday because of the wreck, but we were supposed to head in today.

Maybe we should go ahead and quit

>>34709131
>[x]It bit me first. Nobody bites ME. Hear that, fishy?

>>34709266
Can't yet, still need to make money from it until our gigs can pay our child support payments

>>34709131
You've got a thousand competing ideas for a song about your trip bouncing around inside your head, and you feel like you've got to let them out.

"Bring me my guitar," you tell the priest, "that was metal as fuck."

"If peaceful fishing trips are your idea of metal," he says, tossing another worm to the fish head, "you need more exposure to the brÜtal side of life. I can't let you play while the fish is recovering - exposure to the power of rock would kill it in its incomplete form."

You've always wondered how umlauts were pronouced. Since you can't have your guitar, you begin thinking through the planning for a song about your trip - you're sure you'll get a chance to play it later. But something's bothering you, ever so slightly.

"Why were you holding a service on Saturday?" you ask the priest. The bass has grown more flesh, and he's now tossing smaller baitfish to it from the cooler.

"Today is Sunday," he tells you, tossing another fish - the bass is gobbling them up as fast as he can throw them, "you came in on Friday night and slept through Saturday."

Well, that explains that. Unfortunately, that means there's work tomorrow.

>[]Ask about the bass
>[]Ask about his monster-hunting experience
>[]Ask about his musical history
>[]Write-in

>>34709308
>[]Ask about his monster-hunting experience
Do they drop gold like them vidjima gaems?

I'm confused. The thread title is "Rock Quest", but it seems more like Christian Mythos Quest or Dark Room Torture Quest.

Am I in the wrong place?

>>34709463
>>[x]Ask about the bass
Looks like a nice catch. So do we fry it or make a soup?

>>34709529
It is a future we chose.

>>34709529
Go read Rock Quest 1.

Although yeah, it kinda is about Christian Mythos.

>>34709546
Sorry, bud, it's only for jam

>[x]Ask about his monster-hunting experience (in particular, demons)

>>34705075
>you sink to your knees in front of the priest
>he towers over you
>over your upturned face, the liquid soaking into your hair, flowing into your open mouth, and running down your creased suit

>>34709529
Yeah, you're in the wrong place, all right. This is Homosexual Subtext Quest, and it was even worse in the last thread.

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>>34709463
"Nice catch," you say, eyeing the fast-growing bass, "how are we going to cook it?"

"Do you want a repeat fishing trip?" he asks, grinning at you and throwing a much larger baitfish to the bass, which gobbles it whole.

Alright, he has you there, bu tyou've got another question: "How does demon hunting work?"

He pauses mid-throw, and looks at you strangely for a second before answering. "You find a demon," he throws the fish, "you chase the demon," another fish thrown, "and you stab it until its dead. Well, you've probably only killed its host, and it's back off to where it came from," he says, and pauses to throw several more fish, the finishes quietly, "and you're left with its host's mutilated body on your hands," he says, staring off into the distance.

He's probably not in the mood for any jokes about it. He might be the type who wants more jokes when something's got him down, but you'll try that when he doesn't have you strapped down.

The bass looks complete, the priest closes the cooler, and says "alright, now he give the girl back her fish."

>[]Don't drop it
>[]Can I get up now?
>[]Write-in

>>34709928
Can I play now?

>>34709928
Next time little fishy aim for the throat

>>34710005
Why are you trying to talk to someones psyche

>>34710040
As if we haven't seen or done stranger things over the weekend.

>>34709928
>[x]Can I get up now?

>>34709928
>>[x]Don't drop it
Handle with care.

>>34709928
(1/2)
You lock eyes with the fish as is slowly turns in the air above you, and say "next time, go for the throat." You have no idea whether it understands you.

The priest can understand you when you ask for your guitar back, and he loosens the restraints and allows you to go grab it yourself. You start strumming some of the variations on the DJ's bass you came up with on Friday night. The fish turns slowly in the air and looks at you. You're pretty sure it's looking at you.

Carefully, so as not to drop it, the priest reaches up and grabs the bass out of midair, as if taking it off of a high shelf. He gently lays it on the sleeping girl. The cot shifts a little bit under the additional weight.

>>34710234
(2/2)
She stirs in her sleep, and then wakes up, on a small cot, in a room with a bunch of knives on the wall and a torture chair in the center of it, with a man in a bloody suit with some occult design carved on his forehead and a priest with fresh track marks on his bare arm standing over her.

You brace yourself for the inevitable scream.

She flicks her free hand in midair, and the fish vanishes, replaced by something that looks like a playing card to you. Then she sits up, fixes you with her eyes, and says "you ruined my set."

>[]I didn't ruin it, I made it better
>[]I'm sorry.
>[]Aren't you going to ask who we are?
>[]Write-in

>>34710419
>"You're handling this surprisingly well."

>>34710419
>>[x]I didn't ruin it, I made it better
Let's argue tastes in music.

>>34710419
>>[]I didn't ruin it, I made it better

>>34710419
>I made it better

>>34710419
>[]I didn't ruin it, I made it better

>>34710419
I had to, to rebuild it into something greater.
Togheter, there isn't much that could opose us.
*turns to the priest*
Was that tacky enough?

>>34710419
(1/3)
Her matter-of-fact manner surprises you a bit, but you're not going to to let her get away with saying something that blatantly false.

"I didn't ruin your set, I made it better," you say, strumming your guitar for emphasis, "a beat is nothing without a melody atop it. You have to remix the tunes of others to layer on top of your beats, but I put my own original sound there."

"So you think that because you're on a mission from God you can diss me online, then crash my performance?" she's balling her hands into fists, gripping tighter and tighter as she talks, "n9ne's a big deal. If I'd done a good set there, I could have gone anywhere, but you defeated me and bit my head off in front of the digital world," she pauses for a short breath, "I'm not even going to get anymore underground gigs. I'm finished," she says, looking at the floor, "you decapitated my career."

Well, she's not dragging your kids into it to guilt-trip you, so it's still better than trying to deal with your ex-wife.

"Look, kid," that's probably a mis-step, but shee looks so small you couldn't help it, "sure I ended your solo career. But did you see those people dance? Together we could rock the world!" You hit a power chord and pose as you deliver the line, then, as the echoes die away, you lean down and say "I want you in my band."

>>34711172
>n9ne
wait, is that "n nine", "engine" (ngne), or "nine"?

and if you say "n nine ne," I will gut you like a trout

http://youtube.com/watch?v=6WC6EbRQmJ0

>>34711172
(2/3)
You can see it in her eyes. She's looking at the sunk costs - all that time spent making connections, building relationships in the EDM community, all gone down the drain. She's about to say something, but you cut her off the strike while the iron's still hot.

"You don't have a reputation anymore because of my stunt? I wrecked your street cred? Come with me, I've got highway cred. We're going to be playing against the biggest act on the planet - there's enough glory for all of us!"

She stops looking at you about halfway through. You turn your head to follow her eyes, and see the biggest grin yet on the priest's face. He's shaking, laughing under his breath at you. Maybe it's the drugs.

"I guess we do play together pretty well," she admits. She's messing with the card, weaving it through her fingers one by one, bending it pretty sharply at times. It doesn't seem to crease. "But you broke my equipment, and all you've got is a single guitar. You even left the drumset at the church."

Huh, so she apparently remembers everything that happened around her while she appeared out. You're so glad you didn't try to shoot her up with drugs or do anything else stupid.

But she's right about the lack of instruments and other band paraphernalia. You've seen that the bass allows her to play through even broken equipment, but you guess there's a limit to even its power.

>>34711525
(3/3)
Well, you should probably ask about that.

"Weren't you playing with broken equipment at the club?"

"If I release my fish, I can pump any kind of electronic bass through any sound system. Drop it, scratch it, anything. It's only beats, though. The better the system, the better the quality, of course."

"That only makes sense," the priest says, all the laughter drained out of his voice, "so shall we go acquire some instruments? ACDC had a tour concert here yesterday, and their cavalcade probably hasn't made it very far away yet. I've been told," he continues, smiling, "that happiness is breaking another band's instruments, stealing their fans, and seeing their roadies driven befroe you."

>[]Together we ride
>[]Let's obtain instrument's legitimately
>[]Write in

>>34711888
>[x]Let's obtain instrument's legitimately

We had a goddamn angel play rhythm for us, let's keep that privilege.

>>34711888
>[]Let's obtain instrument's legitimately
AND is still one of the few rock bands left in this rock less world. Them and Avenged Sevenfold

>>34711959
Didn't we meet Angus' soul in Hell in the first thread?

I think it's safe to say this 'ACDC' is really just demons wearing their skin.

>>34711888
>[]Together we ride

>>34711888
>Together we ride
Angus Young is one of the possessed lets go let him know we are coming.

>>34711888
>Together we ride

>>34711888
Let us be off on our merry way to defeat those demons wearing rocker skins
That's how this works right?

Our first demon band is ACmotherufckingDC, we sure don't aim low aren't we?

>>34712151
Relax, it's just some demons on holiday covering for them.

>aiming low
>in a quest about rockbattling demons

>>34711888
"Let's rock their faces off," you say, and sling your guitar on your back. "Coming, DJ?"

You and the priest start walking toward the door. before you reach the curtain, you hear footsteps behind you, and the DJ says "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Great. You've got a three-person band now, although you've only got one instrument. It's time to ride this highway to Hell.

The DJ decides to ride behind the priest, and you've got a little bit of time while she puts on her helmet. You decide to look back in the motorcycle's compartment. The envelope with cocaine in it is still where you left it, and the book and insurance papers are still there.

>[]Investigate book
>[]Investigate papers

>>34712351
>[x]Investigate book

It could show us how to exorcise demons with rock.

>>34712351
>book

>>34712351
Book

>>34712351
>investigate papers
never know what could be in something 44 kept around

Ask her her name at least

>>34712351
>[X]Investigate papers

It'll go quick, so we can glance at the book after.

>>34712351
(1/3)

You pull out the book and leaf through it. It's a pocket Old Testament, annotated throughly in Hebrew. Ezekiel seems to have been hit especially hard - the pages are almost black with the tightly-packed writing. You're pretty sure there are people who might get something out of it, but you're unfortunately not one of them.

By the time you're done, the other motorcycle is shipshape. You put the book back, shut the compartment, and kick off.

>>34712045
Please kill yourself

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>>34712666
The drive is wonderful. It's the best drive you've ever taken through Houston's tangled freeways. It helps that it's midafternoon on Sunday, and you're on a gloriously powerful motorcycle. By himself, the priest looked badass and even a bit menacing on his motorcycle. Now, however, with the mouse-helmeted DJ clinging onto him for dear life, he cuts a rather ridiculous figure.

The stormclouds are still threatening rain, and you hear the far-off rumble of thunder every so often over the road noise. It feels like the skies themselves are building tension for your first real showdown with the forces of darkness.

You finally make it out of the suburbs, onto the open road. You almost want to sing, but you remember what happened last time you tried that in a moving vehicle.
Finally, you see it, a massive tour bus. The priest is waving his arm at it - obviously he thinks this is it.

You're making better speed than it is, and you'll catch it very shortly

>[]Board it from your motorcycle
>[]Lay your motorcycle down in front of it
>[]Pull up alongside it and begin rocking
>[]Write-in

>>34712828
>ROCK

>>34712828

>[]Pull up alongside it and begin rocking
Rocking while Riding

>>34712828
>Jump on top of the bus and start rocking

>>34712828
Board it

>>34712828
>pull alongside and get rocking

>>34712828
>>[]Pull up alongside it and begin rocking

How are we going to play the guitar and drive at the same time?

>>34713198
Drive with our feet

>>34713198
Drive with the power of rock, of course. Rock drive the bus and guide our way.

>>34713348
>Rock drive the bus
*Rock will drive the bus.

it's 1am, so sue me

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>>34712828
(1/?)
You're going to give them a taste of rock and roll.

You pull up alongside the tour bus, and check your mirrors for any nearby cars. You really don't want to get blindsided while you're doing this.

Alright, you're clear for a good bit front and back. Now comes the fun part. You swing your guitar around to your front, then carefully put your feet on the handlebars, take your hands off them, and lean back. You brace your guitar, base against your hips and tip waving cheekily in the air. It's the biggest way to give the demons the finger you can think of.

Then, you ROCK.

The rushing wind can't silence your sound - it barely muffles it. The first chord overpowers the road noise, steel strings and resonating wooden body putting rotating rubber and sullen asphalt's symphony of mediocrity to shame. The feeling against your crotch is incredible. You see the tour bus' darkened windows flex a little. They're bulletproof, so you shouldn't have expected much more.

But that's only the first chord. The second follows quickly, then a third, and you launch into the song. You don't do covers if you can help it, but if anything will get their goat, it'll be hearing Highway to Hell, the way the real Angus plays it. Of course, you've got to admit that he was kind of asking for it, considering that he's wearing horns on the album cover and all, but you're here for revenge anyway.

Damn, but you're missing the drums. You've got to get that priest a set.

>>34713487
I fear the worst that our drummer will pull something crazier.
Bracing for impact.

>12
>need to wake up at four so I can drive an hour
Why do you do this

>>34713487
(2/2)

A horned head smashes through one of the bus' windows, waving its ears around to find the source of the sound. You're not just shaking the bus' windows now - the driver is having trouble keeping it in his lane.

You're having trouble keeping it in your pants, as you demonstrate to the demon by vigorously thrusting your guitar up and down while slamming out the solo. His eyes widen, which, combined with the schoolboy cap impaled on one of his horns, gives him a hilarious appearance.

You spare an upside-down glance back at the priest. He's still following you, waiting for you to make your move. You are the lead, and the only one with an instrument, after all.

You hear some muffled yelling and look back up. The horned head has disappeared back inside the bus Suddenly, the bus lurches into your lane, aiming to smear you on the pavement.


>[]Ditch over the road's shoulder
>[]Jump through the broken window
>[]Lay your bike down under the bus
>[]Write-in

>>34713818
>>[]Jump through the broken window

>>34713818
>Jump through the broken window

>>34713818
>>[x]Jump through the broken window
Charge!!!

>>34713818
Jump through that shit

>>34713818
>>[]Jump through the broken window
Priest is resourceful, he'll figure something out while we keep demon occupied

>>34713818
Oh, come on, this highway wasn't supposed to be your personal highway to the Gates of Hell. If the demons think they can have their driver crush you, they've got another think coming.

You pull your feet onto the motorcycle's seat, coil yourself, and make a jump for the broken window.

You're just an acountant - why do you do these things to yourself? You're damn lucky that you picked up weightlifting on the rebound after your wife left you. You're no strongman, but at least you aren't a smear on the pavement.

No, you're staring down Angus Young in the back of his tour bus. He's got a hate in his eyes, a hole in his hat, a groupie between his legs, and a guitar in his hands.

"Where did you learn to play like that?" he asks in an aussie accent tinged with hellish overtones.

"From the Real Angus," you reply.

>[]I challenge you... ...to a ROCK OFF!
>[]Club him with your guitar
>[]Write-in

>>34714076
>>[x]I challenge you... ...to a ROCK OFF!
As if there was any choice.

>>34714076
>stare him down and begin playing
Whoever has the groupie at the end wins

>>34714076
Melt his face off with some awesome shredding.

>>34714076
Challenge time.

>>34714076
>you're staring down Angus Young in the back of his tour bus. He's got a hate in his eyes, a hole in his hat, a groupie between his legs, and a guitar in his hands.
You have me in tears OP, my goddman sides hurts so much, rereading the previous thread and this one is so damn corny

>>34714076
I smell a challenge coming boys

>>34714076
HEAVEN OR HELL
LETS ROCK

>>34714076
(1/2)
"I challenge you," you say, pausing for that extra bit of dramatic tension, "TO A ROCK OFF!"

And you hit a power chord, You shook the windows from outside, with the wind dulling your sound. Inside, however it a different story. It's like pouring the gunpowder out of fifty Black Cats into tin can and touching it off instead of just lighting all the Black Cats at once.

The windows explode out in a shower of safety glass. For one beat, you have that as your percussion.

You don't try picking out a tasty riff. What you play is simple - Angus told you that 'the simpler it is, the better'. It might be simple, but damn is it powerful. You're shaking the whole bus. You just wish you had percussion - these simple chords aren't too interesting on their own.

And then you hear the unmistakable noise of a flat tire flapping on the road. Even without instruments, your drummer is looking out for you. He gave you the best beat you're going to get.

And you take it, you build on it, a simple, solid house of good old swagger rock, staring the fake Angus in the face the whole time. You're yelling something in a nasal voice about fakes, about the masks people use to get ahead, about how no mask can turn you from a fish into a fisherman.

>>34714454
>"nasal voice"

My sides

>>34714454
Eventually, you remember that you have to give your opponent a turn in a true Rock Off, so you finish, your last strident note fading into the rhythmic thud of the flat tire.

You feel something against your crunchy bloodstained suit, and look down. You'd been too focused to realize it earlier, but the groupie's pressing herself against you from ankle to shoulder. You're impressed that she hasn't gotten in the way of your playing, but you assume that's why she's on the tour bus, and not waking up alone in a hotel room.

But there's no time to pay attention to her right now. You're back in a staring contest with the fake Angus - it's his turn to rock you.

He's using the flat tire's rhythm too, and and however hard your rock swaggers, his swaggers with cloven hoofs and a tail. The flames of Hell tinge his voice as he asks you who made you, and he's doing that damned stage duck walk.

Then he lets loose.

The riff is unbelievably tasty. It's too tasty. You swear you can see Hellfire rippling along his frets, and every dial on his instrument is turned to eleven. You barely notice the groupie leave you and kneel before him - you're too awed by his riff.

There are a few off-beat background noises, a zipper here, a clanking there, a slurp or two, but his riff nearly drowns them all out.

As the last note dies away, the look in his eyes and the bobbing of the groupie's head tell you that you've lost.

>[]Admit defeat
>[]GTFO
>[]ROUND 2, ROCK LIKE YOU WANT TO WIN

>>34714804
>>[x]ROUND 2, ROCK LIKE YOU WANT TO WIN
Unnerve the demon:
"Hey uglyface, I have a question. If this is all part of big D's plan to snatch more souls... exlain to me glam rock! Huh?! HUH!?"

>>34714804
If you wish to ROCK LIKE YOU WANT TO WIN, please roll 1d100 like you want to win.

File: it's fucking on now chaps.jpg (60 KB, 527x681)

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Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>34714804
>[]ROUND 2, ROCK LIKE YOU WANT TO WIN

>>34714804
>[]ROUND 2, ROCK LIKE YOU WANT TO WIN
Here we go

Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>34714804
>>[]ROUND 2, ROCK LIKE YOU WANT TO WIN
DICEGODS
GIVE US THE POWER TO ROCK

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>34714869
FUCK YOU DICEGODS

Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>34714804

Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>34714867
Forgot to roll

File: The glorious seven.png (601 KB, 850x514)

601 KB PNG

Rolled 56 (1d100)

Need something like that with the 7th greatest guitarists

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>34714804
>[]ROUND 2, ROCK LIKE YOU WANT TO WIN

dice+1d100
>[]ROUND 2, ROCK LIKE YOU WANT TO WIN

Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>34714855
Ah ok, my dice roll for
>>34714851

Rolled 78 (1d100)

Looks like I have to do everything myself

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>34714944
lets try this again

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>34714855

Rolled 13 (1d100)

Round 2!

Rolled 90 (1d100)

Your rolls are bad and you should feel bad

>>34714804
(1/2)
He's a better Angus Young than you are. He's probably a better Angus Young than you'll ever be - he has to be, otherwise the husk of ACDC wouldn't still be touring for its fans.

You know you've lost, but you can't give up. It's time for round 2. You're back, in black.

And you're not trying to be the best Angus Young, you're just trying to be better than this demon. You swagger to the beat of the thumping tire for a few seconds, then lead into a solo that has nothing to do with Young, nothing to do with this band, or this bus, or the damn groupie. Your fingers are flying, pulling on, pulling off, racing each other up and down the frets.

It's still not good enough, and you know it. ACDC was a hard first target, and you make a note to punch the priest next time you see him, for setting you up for this.

The fake Angus is standing there with his arms crossed and a smile on his face, the groupie working away.

That's it, you're done. You've lost the Rock Off

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>>34715227
(2/2)
Your hands stop, and you realize that the tire has stopped. The bus has stopped. Everything's stopped, except you and the groupie, and your notes are fading away to nothing.

And then you hear it and it's the most wonderful sound. That's a snare drum. And a cymbal. And then the rest of everything, and there's no mistaking the frenetic playing.

The priest has found a drum set.

You catch his beat before the last note of your ill-fated solo dies away. It lends you backbone, as you shred like you've never shredded before. Lightning flies from your fingertips. Every position on your guitar's dials suddenly reads "11" - you can't turn it down.

The demon's face melts, his grin coming off in a soggy sheet. he grows taller, redder, the horns come out, and the groupie screams and backs away in horror from.

You can see why - you never knew, and you never wanted know, and you intend to forget immediately how big and how thorny demon schlongs are.

>[]Shred him into oblivion - it's 2v1 now
>[]Club him down with your guitar
>[]Electrocute his schlong

>>34715425
>>[]Shred him into oblivion - it's 2v1 now
>[]Electrocute his schlong
why not both.

>>34715425
STATS UPDATED:

ROCK OFFS WON/CHALLENGED: 0/1

DEMON SCHLONGS SEEN: 1/???

>>34715425
Wouldn't be surprised of our drummer have the same deal we had, but with the souls of all the greatest drummer.

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>>34715507
>DEMON SCHLONGS SEEN

Please tell me this isn't how we level up.

>>34715425
>>[]Electrocute his schlong
A parting gift.

>>34715569
>Show me your honor
>[Riff from hell intensifies]
>No, your other honor

>>34715425
>[]Electrocute his schlong
>[]Shred him into oblivion - it's 2v1 now

>>34715425
It's two against one now - not exactly fair, but you lost your solo Rock Off, and you don't feel like playing fair anymore.

You can hear the priest's drumming from outside, through the broken windows. It's giving you the foundation - all you have to do it build.

Angus' face is melting down over the demon's eyes, dissolving before the true power of rock and roll. He's blindly fumbling on the frets of his guitar - in another few seconds he'll be able to battle you riff against riff.

You aim the neck of your guitar at his swinging member. Lighting crackles across your frets as you guide it toward his fleshy lightning rod. As his penis sizzles, the demon howls in pain and drops his guitar.

You bring your guitar back to its preferred position, set your feet, feel the priest's rhythm through your toes, and hammer out a riff so juicy, so tasty, the demon can practically feel its grease dripping from his chin.

Your riff melts the very flesh from the beast's bones - they clatter to the floor of the hallway in a steaming heap.

>[]Go outside
>[]Clear the bus, room-to-room
>[]Write-in

>>34715815
>Go outside and tell the Priest: "He's gone back on the highway to hell."
We need a one-liner after every single demon we kill.

>>34715815
>>[]Clear the bus, room-to-room

>>34715815
>>[]Clear the bus, room-to-room

>>34715894
Although clear the bus first.

>>34715815
>[]Clear the bus, room-to-room
Gotta get loot. Gotta get loot. Gotta get loot.

>>34715815
Clear the bus room to room along with
>>34715894

clear the bus, we need equipment.
and probably new strings.

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>>34715815
Where there's one demon, there's always another. You decide to clear the interior of the bus, riffing all the way. Your fingers dance while your feet plod. You bring the cleansing power of rock to every room in the bus. You play over a toilet, you play over a sleeping groupie, and eventually you find and melt another three demons.

One was stoned out of his mind, really mellow about it all. One was completely insensible - you have no idea what he'd been taking. You caught the last one off guard as he argued with a record company manager over the phone.

You're about to leave, but the voice on the phone starts yelling "Who in fuck is playing that riff? It's not one of you guys - you're too old."

You stop playing, pick up the phone and step out of the bus onto the roadside scrub of West Texas. The storm is clearing, and everything smells fresh from the rain. You hadn't even noticed it raining during your Rock Off.

The priest stops drumming when he sees you step out - it seems that he liberated the drumset from the bus' cargo compartments. He's sitting on a stool, and the DJ is languidly sprawling across his motorcycle. Well, as languid as she can be in that helmet.

The clouds part, and a rainbow unfurls across the sky. It's a great day to be alive.

"Well," you say, to the phone, the priest, the DJ, the driver, the groupies, and the world at large, "I put them back on the Highway to Hell."

>>34716284
I'm done. 11 hours of questing has burnt me to the socket. Thanks for sticking with me - it's been fun.

I probably won't be able to run again until Friday, and any weekday threads will be a lot shorter than these weekend titans.

Follow me on twitter to be notified when I'm running: https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge

Here's the SupTG archive (go vote for the threads): http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Rock%20Quest,Collective%20Game,HaikuDeluge

>>34716331
Thanks for running.

>>34716331
Rock on!

>>34716331
Keep on rockin' OP