Tevun-Krus #48 - StonePunk

#askmadmike, Part 1

Mad Mike's Madder Mail

"Heyo, duder,

Name's Spliff, but my brosephs call me Bongo when we're really fuckin' baked lolz cuz I like to bust out the bongos and really play a tune. Anyway just wanted to send some good vibes your way, bro. Lovin' what you're doin'. StonedPunk is the shit, duder. Blaze one for me, bro.

Catch you on the flipside, duder. Peace."

—Spliff Large, Wassanooskie Hills Twinkie-Eating Champion of 2015

Wrong sub-genre, bro. This is StonePunk, not what you thought it was. Honest mistake to make, especially given the sheer amount of THC running through your system at this very moment.

On another note: Think you could hook me up with some chronic? There's shit growing around here and nobody in this cave seems to know what I mean when I ask them if they've got any smoke handy. It's getting on my nerves. Send a bag my way and I'll be your friend for life. Ignore this message and I swear to you I will destroy you.

Peace and love and pass the ammunition, duder.

"Sir Marsbergen

Dude I started a band. We play some fucked up prog/ska/thrash/punkcore bullshit. Thing is, since our first show part of the act has been to throw pebbles and rocks and stones and shit into the crowd, see how many of the teeny-boppers we can kill at any one time, but now some broad in a loincloth reckons we're breaking some unwritten sci-fi code, that it's too 'stonepunk' and we've gotta' stop.

Well that's bullshit, man. Know any good lawyers?"

—Dirt, current lead guitarist of Dead Kid Club, ex–lead guitarist of Ironic Hipster Suicide

Oh. My. God. The Dirt, of the Ironic Hipster Suicide? Dude. I fucking worshipped you back when I was a young sprout with two pubes growing from my left testicle. I wanted to be you. I walked around with one dirty sock on my hand and my hair was down to my asshole and I talked in a shitty English accent.

What happened? Dead Kid Club fucking blows, dude. At least with IHS you guys were walking on new ground, but DKC, man... it's like the same shit, different pile, y'know? I mean, it's still good, but it's no Ironic Hipster Suicide. Classic songs such as "Fucked Your Mom (And Your Brother And Sister, Too)," "Gay Virgin Murder Fuck," "Fuck Off After You Fuck Me," and "World Class Fuck" were as brilliant as they were simplistic. Dead Kid Club is too weird for its own good. Yeah, "All The Pharaohs Were Gay" is a cool tune, but what the fuck is with "Stone Carved Dildo," "Pebble Smashed Skull," "Gluten Free Gang Bang," and "Twister With Your Sister's Headless Corpse"? They don't know what the fuck they want to be. Are they grindcore? Are they comedy? Are they progressive pop? What the fuck?

Anyway, lawyers? The good folks at Killum Suckum & Fuckum should be of assistance. I'll hook you up.

Oh and Dirt—get an Ironic Hipster Suicide reunion going and I'll suck your dick.

"dear mad mike

brok sad. brok tell you why. brok woman gone now. woman name shelly. brok dunno why. mike seen shelly? shelly red hair like blood and eyes like mammoth dung. but no stinky. shelly nice. brok afraid brok brother s stole shelly. s say he want woman like shelly. brok no understand why s not find own woman. mike help brok? brok need shelly again. brok feel empty."

—brok

Brok, my heart goes out to you, bro. I sympathize with your plight. Every person—even the intellectually challenged—deserves a life of love and kindness. So yes, I will help you find Shelly. Even if it means I'm forced to abduct her, make her a four-time amputee and staple her to your cave wall, I will do so. Because you, Brok, your heart beats for her.

I'm concerned about this brother of yours. "S," did you say? Your name wouldn't happen to be Brok Richards, would it? If so, this puts a whole new spin on this circumstance you're in. Not only will I help you find Shelly, but I will also kill your brother for you.

Interested? Good.

He's already dead and rotting away beneath my floorboards.

Shhh. Keep it a secret.