Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Lil Rosie
Live and Let Die, Mother****er!
2 reviewsThree rock stars who are absolutely positive that they're straight suddenly fall in love with their super-irritating lead singer... What could possibly happen?
0Unrated
"IZZY!"
The guitarist looked up as Duff McKagan smashed his door in. The bass player's eyes were wide and blood-shot, and his long blonde hair was even messier than normal.
"Yes?" Izzy replied calmly, brushing a lock of not-quite-equally-as-long-as-Duff's-though-still-long-but-black hair out of his eye.
"Where the hell is the Axl Relief?!"
Izzy bowed his head back down and went back to adjusting the strings on his guitar, though he stopped long enough to point to the closet.
"Thank God..." Duff sighed with relief and opened the closet, taking out a bag of what looked suspiciously like pot with the words 'Axl Relief' written on it in big, bold letters.
"So, you want to tell me what's up?" Izzy asked, finally putting the guitar down.
"Your friend is driving me insane." Duff replied, walking toward the door. "I swear to God, does he EVER shut up?!"
"No." Izzy replied bluntly. He had been Axl Rose's best friend since high school, so naturally the other members of Guns N' Roses treated him like some kind of expert on rabid animals. Pretty much what Axl was, in their opinion...
"Ever?" Duff's eyes went wide with terror.
"I'm pretty sure he talks in his sleep." Izzy shrugged.
"... Where do we keep the kitchen knives?" The blonde wondered.
"In the kitchen?" Izzy shrugged again.
"I mean where in the kitchen." Duff hissed, slitting his eyes.
"You look like Monty." Izzy pointed out, referring to one of Slash's many pet snakes.
"Don't change the subject." Duff ordered.
"Well... I hid them some time after Steven tried to kill himself with the big one."
"DAMN YOU, STEVEN!!!" Duff exclaimed, running out of the room with the drugs still under his arm, though slamming the door behind him.
"What did I do?!" The drummer wondered, trying to avoid his inevitable fate by hiding behind the couch.
Izzy shrugged and went back to working on the guitar.
The door opened again, though this time it didn’t sound like somebody was trying to break it down. Scary, how it sounded almost… Civilized.
“Hey Slash.” Izzy raised a hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t even bother to look up.
“How did you guess?” Slash wondered, sitting on a chair in the room.
“My door’s still on its hinges, and Steven’s getting murdered by Duff. If you came here for the Axl Relief, he just took it.”
“Of course.” Slash replied, sighing. “You see, this is the problem. Every time someone comes in the room, you assume they want drugs, and usually you’re right. How come nobody ever talks here?”
“Talk?” Izzy repeated, looking up for the first time. His expression seemed somewhat confused. “What’s this ‘talk’ of which you speak? Can you get high off of it?”
“Very funny.” Slash rolled his eyes.
“Slash… Or should I say Saul.”
“You should say Slash.” He verified.
“Alright. So Saul, what you need to understand is that you gave up your right to intelligent conversation around the time you joined a rock band.” Izzy explained. “Or maybe it was when you became an alcoholic.”
“I’m not an alcoholic.” Slash argued. Izzy laughed and shook his head.
“Saul…” He was grinning. “Saul, Saul, Saul.”
“You and Axl are from Indiana, right?” Slash asked, sounding only slightly irritated.
“Yes.” Izzy agreed.
“Remind me never to go there.”
“Ha ha.” Izzy stuck his tongue out. “But, you forget, my little alcoholic friend… Indiana has beer.”
“Uh… Yeah.” Slash agreed. “You want to know the funny thing? So does every other state in America, and most foreign countries, too. Plus…” He gritted his teeth. “I am NOT an alcoholic.”
Izzy stared directly at him, eyes burning holes into his head.
“Don’t give me that look.” Slash ordered.
“You’re not an alcoholic?”
“I’m not.” He replied.
“Really?” Izzy leaned closer, still giving him that blank look.
“I’m NOT.”
“You’re not?” At this point, Izzy was about three inches away from Slash’s face.
“Maybe a little…” Slash admitted.
“A little?”
Before he could respond Izzy suddenly kissed him full on the mouth. Falling back and flipping over the chair, Slash hit his head on the ground.
“IZZY, WHAT THE **?!” He demanded.
“Nice choice of words.” Izzy agreed, pinning him to the ground. “Sorry, Saul, you’re just so cute!”
“Now is not a time to be goofing off.” Slash hissed, glaring.
“Who said I’m goofing off?” Izzy whispered into his ear. “Why won’t you accept my feelings?”
“Let’s see… Maybe because you have said this exact same thing to everyone in the band?”
Suddenly, the door was slammed open, again. They could hear the squeals from Steven, being murdered, and the yells and profanity from Duff, who was the murderer. That meant that the only person who could be there was…
“OH, GROSS!!!” Axl exclaimed, attempting to claw out his eyes. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS DOING?! GODDAMN IT ALL!!! MY **ING EYES!!!” He collapsed to the ground and started choking.
“Axl!” Izzy exclaimed, finally jumping off of Slash and charging at his friend. “I’ve missed-!”
Before he could finish, he was tripped by something that he thought was a garden hose that had somehow found its way into his room.
Nope, nope. It was just Monty, Slash’s pet python. (The name was probably a pun, especially considering Slash had gotten him in Britain.) Monty, in all his adorable nine-foot-glory, was glaring at Izzy as he coiled around him.
“Well, this is bad.” Izzy decided as Monty began to constrict him. “Slash, will you please get your pet to stop murdering me?”
“Don’t forget to share.” Slash said, patting Monty on the head. “I’ll cut him up so you can all have a piece.”
“OH COME ON!” Izzy exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “I even called you Slash this time!”
“Right…” Axl finally seemed to recover from his little episode. “What I wanted to say is… Ugh… I can’t even remember now. Sorry to interrupt your little ‘moment.’”
“We were just goofing off.” Izzy offered as ten more of Slash’s pet snakes began to crawl on him, biting and constricting as they got their chances.
“Who’s we?!” Slash demanded.
Duff suddenly walked in, covered in blood.
“Alright, let’s take a vote.” He said, ignoring Izzy’s situation. “Should we take Steven to the hospital really, really fast, or go find a new drummer?”
“Take Steven to the hospital!” Steven himself called from the hall.
“Ooh! A new drummer?” Axl asked excitedly. “Can we get one with some talent, this time?”
“Damn you, Axl!”
“We can’t just let him die.” Slash offered.
“Jerks.” Izzy glared.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” Axl replied. “Should we get a new back-up guitarist while we’re out?”
“Yeah.” Slash agreed.
“DAMN YOU BOTH!” Steven and Izzy exclaimed at the same time.
“Don’t worry.” Axl assured as they walked out the door. “If you guys are still alive when we get back, we’ll fire the new guys… Probably.”
And so, the door was slammed shut on the dying bandmates.
(Lovely moment to end a chapter, huh?)
The guitarist looked up as Duff McKagan smashed his door in. The bass player's eyes were wide and blood-shot, and his long blonde hair was even messier than normal.
"Yes?" Izzy replied calmly, brushing a lock of not-quite-equally-as-long-as-Duff's-though-still-long-but-black hair out of his eye.
"Where the hell is the Axl Relief?!"
Izzy bowed his head back down and went back to adjusting the strings on his guitar, though he stopped long enough to point to the closet.
"Thank God..." Duff sighed with relief and opened the closet, taking out a bag of what looked suspiciously like pot with the words 'Axl Relief' written on it in big, bold letters.
"So, you want to tell me what's up?" Izzy asked, finally putting the guitar down.
"Your friend is driving me insane." Duff replied, walking toward the door. "I swear to God, does he EVER shut up?!"
"No." Izzy replied bluntly. He had been Axl Rose's best friend since high school, so naturally the other members of Guns N' Roses treated him like some kind of expert on rabid animals. Pretty much what Axl was, in their opinion...
"Ever?" Duff's eyes went wide with terror.
"I'm pretty sure he talks in his sleep." Izzy shrugged.
"... Where do we keep the kitchen knives?" The blonde wondered.
"In the kitchen?" Izzy shrugged again.
"I mean where in the kitchen." Duff hissed, slitting his eyes.
"You look like Monty." Izzy pointed out, referring to one of Slash's many pet snakes.
"Don't change the subject." Duff ordered.
"Well... I hid them some time after Steven tried to kill himself with the big one."
"DAMN YOU, STEVEN!!!" Duff exclaimed, running out of the room with the drugs still under his arm, though slamming the door behind him.
"What did I do?!" The drummer wondered, trying to avoid his inevitable fate by hiding behind the couch.
Izzy shrugged and went back to working on the guitar.
The door opened again, though this time it didn’t sound like somebody was trying to break it down. Scary, how it sounded almost… Civilized.
“Hey Slash.” Izzy raised a hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t even bother to look up.
“How did you guess?” Slash wondered, sitting on a chair in the room.
“My door’s still on its hinges, and Steven’s getting murdered by Duff. If you came here for the Axl Relief, he just took it.”
“Of course.” Slash replied, sighing. “You see, this is the problem. Every time someone comes in the room, you assume they want drugs, and usually you’re right. How come nobody ever talks here?”
“Talk?” Izzy repeated, looking up for the first time. His expression seemed somewhat confused. “What’s this ‘talk’ of which you speak? Can you get high off of it?”
“Very funny.” Slash rolled his eyes.
“Slash… Or should I say Saul.”
“You should say Slash.” He verified.
“Alright. So Saul, what you need to understand is that you gave up your right to intelligent conversation around the time you joined a rock band.” Izzy explained. “Or maybe it was when you became an alcoholic.”
“I’m not an alcoholic.” Slash argued. Izzy laughed and shook his head.
“Saul…” He was grinning. “Saul, Saul, Saul.”
“You and Axl are from Indiana, right?” Slash asked, sounding only slightly irritated.
“Yes.” Izzy agreed.
“Remind me never to go there.”
“Ha ha.” Izzy stuck his tongue out. “But, you forget, my little alcoholic friend… Indiana has beer.”
“Uh… Yeah.” Slash agreed. “You want to know the funny thing? So does every other state in America, and most foreign countries, too. Plus…” He gritted his teeth. “I am NOT an alcoholic.”
Izzy stared directly at him, eyes burning holes into his head.
“Don’t give me that look.” Slash ordered.
“You’re not an alcoholic?”
“I’m not.” He replied.
“Really?” Izzy leaned closer, still giving him that blank look.
“I’m NOT.”
“You’re not?” At this point, Izzy was about three inches away from Slash’s face.
“Maybe a little…” Slash admitted.
“A little?”
Before he could respond Izzy suddenly kissed him full on the mouth. Falling back and flipping over the chair, Slash hit his head on the ground.
“IZZY, WHAT THE **?!” He demanded.
“Nice choice of words.” Izzy agreed, pinning him to the ground. “Sorry, Saul, you’re just so cute!”
“Now is not a time to be goofing off.” Slash hissed, glaring.
“Who said I’m goofing off?” Izzy whispered into his ear. “Why won’t you accept my feelings?”
“Let’s see… Maybe because you have said this exact same thing to everyone in the band?”
Suddenly, the door was slammed open, again. They could hear the squeals from Steven, being murdered, and the yells and profanity from Duff, who was the murderer. That meant that the only person who could be there was…
“OH, GROSS!!!” Axl exclaimed, attempting to claw out his eyes. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS DOING?! GODDAMN IT ALL!!! MY **ING EYES!!!” He collapsed to the ground and started choking.
“Axl!” Izzy exclaimed, finally jumping off of Slash and charging at his friend. “I’ve missed-!”
Before he could finish, he was tripped by something that he thought was a garden hose that had somehow found its way into his room.
Nope, nope. It was just Monty, Slash’s pet python. (The name was probably a pun, especially considering Slash had gotten him in Britain.) Monty, in all his adorable nine-foot-glory, was glaring at Izzy as he coiled around him.
“Well, this is bad.” Izzy decided as Monty began to constrict him. “Slash, will you please get your pet to stop murdering me?”
“Don’t forget to share.” Slash said, patting Monty on the head. “I’ll cut him up so you can all have a piece.”
“OH COME ON!” Izzy exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “I even called you Slash this time!”
“Right…” Axl finally seemed to recover from his little episode. “What I wanted to say is… Ugh… I can’t even remember now. Sorry to interrupt your little ‘moment.’”
“We were just goofing off.” Izzy offered as ten more of Slash’s pet snakes began to crawl on him, biting and constricting as they got their chances.
“Who’s we?!” Slash demanded.
Duff suddenly walked in, covered in blood.
“Alright, let’s take a vote.” He said, ignoring Izzy’s situation. “Should we take Steven to the hospital really, really fast, or go find a new drummer?”
“Take Steven to the hospital!” Steven himself called from the hall.
“Ooh! A new drummer?” Axl asked excitedly. “Can we get one with some talent, this time?”
“Damn you, Axl!”
“We can’t just let him die.” Slash offered.
“Jerks.” Izzy glared.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” Axl replied. “Should we get a new back-up guitarist while we’re out?”
“Yeah.” Slash agreed.
“DAMN YOU BOTH!” Steven and Izzy exclaimed at the same time.
“Don’t worry.” Axl assured as they walked out the door. “If you guys are still alive when we get back, we’ll fire the new guys… Probably.”
And so, the door was slammed shut on the dying bandmates.
(Lovely moment to end a chapter, huh?)
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