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J returned to his hotel clutching the tab of Mono100. Upon entering the hotel, he recognised two men sitting on a couch dressed in black leather jackets. In front of them was a silver coffee table covered in vomit, cocaine and glitter. It was the Disgusting Brothers.
“Mac, Spac, how the fuck are ya?” bristled J.
“Are you the fucking prostie?” growled Mac.
“No, it’s me, J... from The Jizzbuckets... We did a tour on Mercury with Freudian Slit a few years ago.”
“Fuck off,” growled Spac, “we’re waiting for our fucking prosties.”
“How the fuck have you guys been?” continued J, ignoring Spac just as a smartly dressed man entered the hotel and hurried across the lobby towards them. It was Ace Freemok, who immediately began talking. His delicate nerves were a little on the edge since the last time he had seen the Disgusting Brothers.
“Okay guys, it’s arranged. We should have some mutard whores here in about fifteen minutes. Can we please now go to the hotel room?”
After some convincing, Ace took the Disgusting Brothers up to their hotel room where they quickly passed out. J followed and began chatting with Ace.
“I’m sure I know you from somewhere. Are you in a band?” Ace asked J.
“Yeah, I am. The Jizzbuckets.”
“Oh wow, I know your stuff. Very cool.”
“Really?” asked J, genuinely surprised.
“Oh yeah, I loved ‘Concept Album’ and ‘Boronia Deathtrip’ and the gigs I’ve been to have been fucking wild, although man, I have to say man, your solo stuff is, um... fucking shit, mate.”
J smiled.
“So are you still playing together? I haven’t heard anything from you guys for a long time.”
“Off and on. I’m actually looking at doing a big one-off show at the Flying Horse in a few weeks. I’ve got some really cool ideas floating in my head.”
“Yeah? Tell me about it.”
J began to explain his idea for a show and Ace was enthusiastic, offering to assist with the presentation of the gig. Ace was tired of the Disgusting brothers and eager to dump them. So if the gig was successful, he could sign The Jizzbuckets and take their show on tour.
There was a knock on the door. It was the mutard whores. With the Disgusting Brothers incapacitated, Ace and J proceeded to fuck the whores and send them off, but not before shaving the pubic hair of both of the Disgusting Brothers, spoofing on their faces, and making pubic beards. They took photos.
Later, Mac and Spac awoke and immediately requested hookers.
“So Ace, what the fuck is happening with our album?” growled Spac.
“Okay guys, I’ve now talked to five different lawyers as you requested and they all say the same thing. If you take the new Arabian Goggles album, change the song titles and put your names to it, it’s still considered plagiary. There is no way around it. We’re going to have to go into the studio, fellas.”
“No way! I hate the fucking studio. You speak to another lawyer.”
“But guys...”
“Speak to another fucking lawyer.”
“And get us another fucking Prostie!”
J smiled.
Inflict Kafe Gavani On The World
  
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