Chapter 4 – Death Metal Mayhem at The Rusty Anchor
Chapter 4 – Death Metal Mayhem at The Rusty Anchor The night wasn’t done with them yet. As Salty, Danny Boy, and The Govna swaggered down Evergreen Terrace, they heard a noise. Not just noise… a wall of sound . Guitars screeched, drums thundered, and someone howled like Groundskeeper Willie stepping on a rake. “Wheyyyyyy lads, what in donut’s name is that?!” Salty shouted. They followed the noise and stumbled into The Rusty Anchor , Springfield’s newest pub — darker than Moe’s, with cobwebs, flashing skull lights, and a jukebox that only took guitar picks as payment. On stage: Death Metal Ned Flanders. That’s right. Sweet Ned, shirt torn off, screaming into a mic: “Okilyyyy-dokilyyyyy… DIEEEE!!!” Danny Boy’s jaw dropped. “Lads… I think I’m in love.” He grabbed a mic and joined in, roaring nonsense lyrics about Squishees and Krusty Burgers. The Govna, too cool as always, started headbanging so hard his shades flew off. “Destroyizzzzz!” he bellowed as the crowd lifted him ...