October 31st, at a house party in Amherst, MA -- Bedsheet ghosts, cardboard box robots, and others fled the scene after a giant worm swallowed the drummer. It was a punk rock show on Halloween, costumes everywhere, and the mosh was heavy.
The victim let out a powerful yell while being pulled into the worm's gut by a million slicing teeth. Some onlookers were terrified and scrambled to escape the overcrowded basement. Others interpreted the scream as part of the show, causing them to mosh ever harder.
At first, it seemed part of the act. Even the band members wore costumes. People were yelling, bashing into each other. And in this rowdy scene, it wasn't unusual for band members to get consumed by the crowd. Earlier that day, the guitarist had hit the ceiling lights with his guitar, shattering glass over everyone and making the room dark. Even then, the party went on.
I personally didn't realize the worm was more than a costume until my buddy, who was dressed as a duck that night, started climbed out of the narrow basement window, quacking as his feathers falling off behind him. I thought to myself, damn, if the duck was willing to lose his feathers for this, something serious must be up. I put my seeing glasses on and prepared to document what was unfolding.
The worm, which I now recognized as a sound worm, went after the bass speakers next (the loudest items in the room), swallowing them whole and muffling the noise. The guitarist and singer noticed the sound cut out.
The worm now moved toward the screaming crowds, dragging instrument cables behind it.
Carl Mon, head of the Peripheral Intelligence Agency, happened to be on the scene surveiling some unrelated business. He had experience with sound worms in the past. He knew what needed to be done, but he didn't want to blow his cover.
When the sound worm devoured a student dressed up as a pizza slice, and next was heading for Zelda for his next meal, Carl knew he couldn't wait any longer. He grabbed the mic from the petrified front man and began singing so loud he knew his lungs would feel it in the morning.
The basist asked, "What are you doing man? What's going on?"
Carl told the basist to trust him. "We need to play", he said, "Play loud! I have a plan."
It felt for a moment like the good old days, his college days in a screemo band, being on stage with his friends, making music, the crowd going wild.
The worm's belly, housing the bass speakers, filled with sound again. At this point, the loudest noise in the room was now coming from within the worm's own stomach.
"It's working!" Carl shouted. "Play louder!" The guitarist railed at his strings.
The worm dug its teeth into its own torso. Despite pain, it couldn't help the powerful instinct to devour the sound coming from within. It growled, the noise of its own growl sending it into a hungry frenzy, ripping itself apart like a crazed self-destructive oroboro.
By the end of it, the basement floor was covered in worm guts, but the people were safe. A sense of calm emerged.
Carl Mon continued singing into the mic. Most students had fled the scene by now, but a few came out from corners and other rooms where they'd been hiding. The basist, not knowing what else to do, kept a bassline going until the police arrived.
It may take some time before the Amherst punk rock scene returns to normal.
Unfortunately, the drummer did not survive. The funeral for Jenju Nettenhaunch will take place on November 22nd at the Puffton Village apartments, where he will be burried with his pet fish, Wiggles, who also died that day. Wiggles unfortunately was in a plastic bag filled with water in Jenju's pocket during the time of the tragedy, so the fish was also a victim of the sound worm. "Jenju loved that fish, wouldn't go anywhere without it," his mother said.
It is not known where this sound worm came from or whether any others are on the loose. For this reason, the Peripheral Intelligence Agency is recommending that nobody makes any noise for a week, in order to starve the sound worms. A "sound quarantine", although inconvenient, will ensure our future well being.
Some speculate the drugs were given to a telivision in Sunderland, causing the telivision to mistakenly produced a 3-dimensional real life sound worm during screening of the Dune movie, as opposed to the 2-dimensional worm it was designed to produce. The police are requesting that you please do not give drugs to your telivision sets.
POST A COMMENT
Want to read more news? Click here for a random article.