FIR, NOT MCR! Ronnie Radke tries to have 'swag', only to make an ass out of himself.
Ronnie Radke was always looking for ways to make himself seem more interesting, and cooler to today's society. After all, he was hoping that him, and his current band, Escape the Fate, would avoid the fate of becoming just another hopeless, failure of a washed up band from Las Vegas. So when he heard the newest trend among today's teenagers was "Swag" he obviously wanted to know what it was.
So after quite a while of him doing (discreet) research on the internet, and going out to watch what happened among today's teens, he figured out what it was. Ronnie was fairly smart, even in his druged up haze, so he was not faced with the need to walk up to someone and ask them just what the fuck swag was. One of the biggest ways that he had observed to have 'swag' was to sag your pants.
One day, the perfect opportunity came for him to express his newfound swag. So, he took it. He was walking down the street to the next show he had to perform, with Max Green, when his low slung pants that he had deemed swag, fell down around his ankles, nearly taking his undies down with them. Several nearby teens started to laugh, snapping pictures on their phones. The next day, it was posted all over the internet with the caption "Ronnie Ain't Got S(w)ag"
The day that it was posted rampantly across the internet, Black Veil Brides singer, Andy Biersack/Six was looking into other bands to invite on a tour with his own band. After all, it did get boring after quite a while being on tour with just the same 4 or 5 other bandmates, and the tour manager and the driver, and the technicians changed at every venue.
After a while, Andy had sent out several emails and texts to people in other bands that he knew, inviting them to come on tour with him, because he didn't feel like having to suffer through the nightmare of Purdy's all night sex parties and Jinxx's stink feet and Chuppy's fat-ass-ness (is that even a word?) of eating everything in the kitchen by himself. Now, he was bored, and decided to go onto facebook. And what should he find there, but a picture of Ronnie Radke with his pants floating somewhere around his ankles? The look on Ronnie's face was absolutely priceless. Andy pulled out his phone, and scanned through his contacts. There it was. The number of one Ronnie Radke himself. Dialing it, it rang a few times, before the (grouchy) owner picked up.
“What tha fuck ya want?”
“Hey Ronnie, it's Andy. What's with the picture all over the internet?”
“It's ma fuckin' swag that went wrong. If ya got a problem with it, fill out a motherfuckin' complaint form and go shove it up your ass!”
“I don't have a problem on it, I was just wondering if you felt like tagging along on the latest tour?”
“With fuckin' Stinkybones Motherfucker and Chuppy the fatass and Pervy-Boy?”
“Uh, Ronnie, his name is Purdy, not Pervy.”
“He's a pervy motherfucker any way ya look at it.”
As far as I know, this never happened.