Who: Skwisgaar Skwigelf the Elder and Charles Foster Offdensen What: OMG WEDDING STUFF HALP Where: Mini-Mordhaus, London When: Tonightish Warnings: Dethklok biohazard
Skwisgaar was pretty much happy in the superficial way of his life. His wife-to-be was amazing in every way, his future son grew up to be a testament to his deeper desires and wishes, with his mother's brains and his father's aloof attitude, the band was doing well, the kids were doing well... So he should have been happy.
WRONG. He was stressed out. With the wedding approaching, and only about 8 months left until he had a child of his own to take care of, the elder guitarist was freaking out much more than he generally would ever show to anyone. He needed some advice. And the only person who actually gave advice that didn't usually involve rampant destruction or death was their CFO. He wandered down the hall to Charles' office and knocked once before entering. "Ja, uh, I is gots to talks at you abouts a thing."