After a long trip of walking and hitchhiking, the girls finally arrived at Fort Bargain Bin. They knew it was the next step in their quest for the passes. Little did they know it would not be the final one.
The Irish one approached the clerk: “We met Tuomas down the road and he said he was giving us backstage passes. Instead he gave us coupons for your store. What should we do next?”
He scrutinized the coupons then examined the girls, who looked back hopefully. What was he to tell them?
The Australian had since woken up, and came to the counter with an armful of bottles, all containing clear liquid. No. Never a sober moment.
“Umm… do you know what the legal purchase age is in Finland?”
“Do you know what the legal age of consent is in Finland?”
He looked at her for a moment. “You can’t be serious.”
She giggled and handed over her I.D. The clerk rolled his eyes, and reluctantly rang up her Finlandia. Tourists are always the most obnoxious. However, this over-the-top display gave him an idea. They would believe it and certainly would be gone forever.
“Well girls, if you go south down that road you will come to a special place. It is home to the biggest Nightwish fans of all.”
They listened closely, eyes wide. This is what they needed to hear.
“The inhabitants have everything to do with Nightwish and know more about the band than the members themselves. Do any of you know what this place is called.”
“No but do they have vegemite? You guys are all out.”
He ignored her. “This place is called ‘The Tearoom.’ If it has to do with Nightwish, they have it. If you’re the bigger fans, then you will take what you seek. If you are not, then you shall PERISH!”
They all gasped. He continued: “Well I suppose if you don’t feel you’re suitable for the challenge-“
“NO!” they all shouted together. “We are! We are. Tell us what we need.”
“So you think you might have a chance, eh? Well you will need weapons. Aussie! Come with me.”
He led the Australian to one side of the store.
“Now tell me: What is the most badass, most manly, heaviest, loudest band in the WORLD?”
“Why that’s Manowar of course!”
“Precisely. And what’s one thing that they do to achieve such manliness?”
“Umm….” She thought for a moment. “Wear manly clothes and carry weapons!”
He nodded and smiled as she began to examine the swords and battle axes. He beckoned for the others to join in.
“Say,” said the Irish girl. “is such a standoff really necessary?”
“Do you want Nightwish tickets or not?”
“I do, but this tearoom gang sounds like an awful bunch.”
“All the more reason to go completely Manowar on them!”
Once they were all suited up with ridiculous bulky weapons and armour, they looked in the mirror. Their new look gave them a new confidence. The clerk too was pleased.
“So… um… cash or credit?”
“Credit” said the Slavic woman. “You give us the weapons free so we can enter the tearoom without dying, and we let you live. It’s a win-win situation.”
He could only be satisfied. He had, after all, just outfitted a dozen Nightwish fans with arms and armour just to get them out of his store. They started out the door, but one of them paused.
“Kind man, can I have your number.”
“Sure, its-“
“Aye!” shouted a voice from the back. It made them all jump. “I not be hearin’ proper piratespeak!”
The clerk sighed. “Captain, the customers hate it.”
“Well we’ll see how much you hate it once you walk the plank.”
“Go, go!” he whispered eagerly to the girls, and they ran out like mice.
The captain approached the clerk. “Well ye scallywag, I think someone needs a lesson in the ways of the high seas!”
He turned to run, but the captain grabbed his necklace by his hook. “I got just the job for a land lubber like you!”
The captain dragged him to a small office in the bowels of the store. On the ground was a ball and chains. There was nothing else except stacks of papers, a filing cabinet, and a really old computer. The captain smiled: “Filing my lunch orders from now until eternity!” He laughed cruelly, as if he had just run through the great fire dragon, and slammed the heavy steel door shut.
* * *
“Do I look fat in this codpiece?”
“Aw no you look perfect.”
“Oh stop it. You look like a VIKING HAMSTER!”
The Aussie grinned ear-to-ear as she poured vodka into her helmet, licking the interior dry. And on the went, knowing the place their Holy Grail could be found. Little did they know the danger that awaited them.
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