Chapter 16

They did not have to wait long. Barely any more snow fell before they saw them on the horizon: a brand new tourbus speeding towards them. No fan would ever keep Nightwish waiting for one second longer than needed. It rolled to a stop in front of them, and all the girls jumped out. Without speaking, they rushed to the broken-down van and began to move all the band’s belongings, working as fast and hard as a colony of termites.

“Well Tuomas, that’s all of it. Now for the hand-over.”

He handed the girl the envelope, and she handed him the keys, and a bundle of socks.

“Thank you. We will see you at the show. Promise!”

The band boarded, and waved. The girls all giggled excitedly, and ran off into the fog. On the road again they were.

* * *

“Well I hope that was worth it. I was supposed to meet my long-lost father today.”

“Oh really? I sold my children into slavery just to be here.”

“Umm… you don’t have any kids.”

“I know. The orphanage won’t miss them.”

“Nightwish is always worth it. Now lets see the passes.”

It was like Christmas morning. The girls all crowded around, eager to see their Holy Grail. The Australian carefully tore open the envelope and removed the slips of paper.

“Fort Bargain Bin? I thought they were playing in Hyvinkää.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” the Aussie responded. “Tuomas hid the passes at Ft. Bargain Bin and wants us to go on a Nightwishepic raiding Adventurequest to steal them from the Fire Dragon. He would never make it easy for us, you know?”

“Maybe there are no tickets and we just got duped.”

The others shot her a dirty look. Tuomas would never do such a thing. And off they went, on an Epic Adventurequest of their own, though slightly less important than the one for socks.

“Well I’m glad logic prevailed. Can I see the coupons Emma… uhh Emma?”

She did not respond. She had passed out, face-down in the snow. This was awkward.

“Umm… what should we do?”

“Well you know our motto?”

“When in doubt, Tuomas always wants it so give him the best ever-“

“No not that. Leave the wounded behind. To the drunk and hungover be kind.”

And they picked her up by her arms and legs, her head hanging back, vegemite dribbling from her open mouth. It never occurred to them to clean her up, like she refused to do when sober.

* * *

Emppu sat at his computer, surfing the internet. This always left him disappointed, but he is the curious type, like a small child just entering the world.

“Tuomas, why do all Nightwish fanfictions suck dick?”

“I don’t read fanfiction. Shouldn’t you be practicing anyway?”

“Look, look,” he said as he brought his computer so that they could both see the screen. “This author has written multiple band fanfics.”

“So?”

“Well look at them.” Emppu opened one page. “This one is about Hammerfall. What do they do?”

“Emppu, I don’t ca-“

“It’s about the band members riding on dragons and going on a quest to find the Mythical Golden Coke Can!”

Tuomas stopped talking and looked more closely. Indeed it was an epic tale. Emppu continued.

“…and THEN the same girl wrote one about us. Read it.”

Tuomas read aloud: “One day, Tuomas woke up. He did some shizz throughout the day before going to sleep. The end.”

The two of them were in awe. What disrespect!

“LAND HO! We be disembarking soon!” Jukka spotted the record store of the meet’n’greet. Oddly enough they had arrived two hours early.

“Jukka, are you certain this is the place?”

“Yeah I be sure as them Somali sailors who been takin them Americans for ransom.” The rest of the band never could figure out his metaphors but they knew this must be good. No one ever dared to question Jukka’s navigational sense, so they went along.

They entered into the run-down complex of rooms, halls, and corridors, large and small. This decrepit skeleton had clearly once been a place of grandeur. As they walked their footsteps echoed all throughout.

“That’s strange,” remarked Anette. “Tuomas your fangirls usually arrive 8 hours early. Where are they?”

“Anette talking about me is one thing, but don’t you dare talk about my fangirls like that. They’re probably being kept waiting in some hidden room to make sure they do not catch an early glimpse of me and pass out. They tend to do that when they see me unexpectedly.”

“Why Hello THERE!”

The voice made them jump and they all turned quickly in their spot. At the end of the hall was a girl with long brown hair and a really cool hat.

“You must be Nightwish. Come right this way.” She spoke with a thick Australian accent, punctuated by a slight case of the jitters.

She directed them to an inviting sitting room, with very comfortable chairs and a faintly glowing fireplace.

“You must be thirsty. I’ll be right back.” With that she disappeared leaving the band to their own devices.

“Oh look. It’s a T.V. I wonder if they get a signal this far out.” Anette switched it on curiously. Incidentally, it was set to the local news channel.

“… as you can see from the pictures, it was a crime of vicious and merciless destruction. Ripped from the very ground that gave her life and vision, Dragonbot’s light has gone out forever. A data recovery team has been dispatched, but at this point it looks to be too late to retrieve her deep inner codes. As an ancient machine with unknown origins, there seems to be little chance a copy exists…”

Marco suddenly looked triumphant. He had just realized the magnitude of his deed: the slaying of an ancient machine that predated the human conception of computers and digitization. Such were quite difficult to destroy, especially beyond the point of repair. The report continued with a briefing from the local Sherrif:

“Mr. Holopainen reported that he asked God to do it. Though the final chatlogs as recorded by one user we’ve managed to contact do support this claim, there is no solid evidence from the crime scene to suggest that there was any divine activity. At this point we are not following this lead and we would advise that no one pay any attention to this man. We will not be contacting him with relation to Dragonbot’s final moments and he is not a suspect. Though his music may be good, we at the police department consider him a WhineyMcFancypants ”

Tuomas switched it off. “I can’t believe this. Is that all I appear as? A WhineyMcFancypants? Dragonbot thought so. The museum curator… and now the entire police department.”

“Well for one thing maytie, ye were a coward back at the teahouse. A true scallywag if I ever saw one.”

“Thank you for the ringing endorsement.”

“and it was only the weed that gave you the inspiration for the plan.” Emppu never criticizes alone, and prefers to have a skilled swordsman on his side.

“Yeah. And you left Kimmo behind. What do you suppose they did to him?” Anette was joining in on the feeding frenzy.

“Yeah. Who supposedly to massage Marco’s ass now? I need doing it every day you know?”

This was very humbling: the odd moment when his entire band loses its fear of him. He needed a way out.

“Hey guys.” She had returned. “It took me awhile to find them, but I didn’t want to raid my private stash. She dragged behind her a large crate of tall, thin cans. “Try one. They’re really good.”

Marco took one and examined it. “En-er-gy drink.”

“Mhmm.” She nodded. “They help you stay awake, and go on forums until the wee hours of the morning.”

“That sounds good,” said Emppu, and the girl looked straight at him. It was the first time she had ever heard him speak.

He took a sip and was instantly hooked, and downed the can in a few seconds. She smiled. Her plan was working.

“Woahhhhhhh” The dwarf was dazed. The large can was not meant for someone of his size. “The worrrld mooovvveeesss soooo slowwwly.”

Anette was worried. “Emppu you don’t look very well right now.” She would have walked over to hug him (female interaction always cheers him up) but he had begun to froth at the mouth.

“Sir come with me,” the host said, eager to help. “I have a special place for you.”

He leapt up, his head almost touching the ceiling. She motioned and walked out, and he followed, in leaps and bounds, like a bunnyrabbit.

The rest of the band was left behind. Marco switched the T.V. back on.

“… this was the scene down the road: an abandoned tourbus. Nothing was found except a note addressed to a population of gnomes living in the gas tank, thanking them for their services. Police maintain that this has nothing to do with Whiney-” Tuomas switched it off again. Though dissatisfied, he is more a man of literature, and grabbed a magazine from the table. Before he could even read the headline, he noticed a sign up sheet for a secret organization carelessly discarded beneath it: ‘Emppuholics Anonymous’