Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Through The Eyes Of...

How Nikki Arrived To Blow Up Our Fucking Tree

by MaryJaneSixx 0 reviews

The party is in full swing when Nikki and Izzy decide that the tree needs trimming.

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2017-06-24 - 1791 words


We did it. We were fucking signed. I couldn't allow myself to accept it. It was like a dream. I was afraid someone was going to pinch me. And to top it off the fucking advance cleared. We had real cash now. An Geffen got us this house. It was basically a crack house but it had two bathrooms and lights and water. And best of all, cable tv and a phone. I mean we weren't exactly making Geffen money yet. Plus I sure he noted we were a bunch or drug addicts. I understood his choice in housing.

So Slash and Duff shared a room, Izzy and I, and Steven got the smallest room for his chicks. But remember we were trying to pull off the same facade. Twin beds were what we had. However I insisted on a full bed. Let's just say Izzy's twin bed is never going to be used unless he fucks Angela. It was a shit hole but we were riding a high so high nothing could bring us down.

We hadn't been there an hour when Nikki Sixx pulls up in a Black Corvett. How the Fuck did he even know where to find us? No one had even told him we signed...oh wait. Alan.

"Welcome to the club fuckers," he peels himself from his car with a bottle of Jack in his hand. "Brought you bastard a case of Jack. It's in the front seat, I ain't carrying it," he buffs piling himself onto our front porch. Slash and Steven quickly rush to the Vette for it.
"At least you get a house...we got a tiny ass apartment." He pulls out a cigarette and lights it. "Yeah guys, your dick sucking days are over."

"Dude, how did you ever know where to find us?" Duff asks.

Nikki smirks as only he can and only winks and drags from his cigarette. "They don't think I'm Satan for nothing."

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

Nikki shrugs and gives me a look that says 'duh'. "I'm giving you a house warming. I invited a few people," he says again with one of those smirks that hint at mayhem.

I look to Izzy. He just shrugs and grabs a bottle of Jack from the box Slash and Steven had gotten to the porch.

"So set your shit up, just cause you're signed don't mean people are automatically gonna buy your shit. The right people have to hear you. I pulled a fuckload of favors. Many important people are going to be here tonight."

"Thanks bro," Slash gleam hugging him. But I remain skeptical. But then I'm a paranoid kind of guy.

So our shit hole gets full of people in the business. I guess Nikki wasn't bullshiting. I still can't shake the feeling I'm gonna end up owing him for this someday.

The party was in full swing when I went for a piss and a moment away from the head spinning party. My eyes are closed for just a second, but that's all it took my Dark Angel to come up behind me andI felt him gently kiss my shoulder from behind. Just the way he had so many years ago.


I'm not much of one for patience. Not much of one for throwing party's when the guests of honor are all fucking each other. It would be different if they were getting sucked off by chicks, but no, they're behind locked doors and I don't even fucking get to watch. Not that that sort of thing gets me off, but it amuses me. It's taboo and I'm all for taboo. But I'm not into making excuses to producers like Tom Zutant. Tons of people want to meet these guys and they're nuts deep in each other's ass's. Such gratitude for my sacrifices. I mean fuck, nobody was even shooting up with me. I am so fucking bored. If it wasn't for Tommy showing up Steven I would just grab a chick and bail.

I see a can of hairspray on a table and am about to grab it and set some shit on fire when I see the orgasmically blissed out faces of Axl and Izzy coming down the stairs. Getting signed must have added a little thrill for them, they've never looked this content before.

"Bout fucking time," I huff, "I was about to play with your hairspray."

They both just look at me a bit confused.

"Im fucking BORED! You guys are throwing a lame party tonight."

Izzy smirks and lights a cigarette, "You threw the party fucker."

I think a moment, while this is true I just can't take being responsible for such boredom. I look around. "I was clearly not high enough," I shrug.

"Wanna work on that with me?" Izzy exhales. I can't help but notice the way Axl looks down and tries to hide his disappointment. But he doesn't say anything.

Izzy kisses his cheek and starts back up the stairs. I follow getting myself a few cold glares from Axl. I pause on my way up and lean closer to him. "By the way, your girlfriend is in the kitchen." I wink and follow after Izzy. He had absolutely no reason to be jealous of me alone with Izzy but I could tell he was. It brought a smile to my face.

Izzy takes me up to a bedroom. He starts pulling out his cornucopia of paraphernilia.

"What do you say we just Crazy Train for now? We'll do the smack later," I suggest.

"Crazy Train?" He asks me.

"Yeah, you know, shoot coke till you hear the train?" I explain.

He looks at me skeptically. "Never shot straight coke. Prefer my smack."

"The night is young. Be adventurous. It feels just like when you come down off a stage. Let's get this party jumping for these half dead motherfuckers!"

"Got coke?" He gives in and shrugs at me.

I pull a baggie from my pocket, "Is a pigs pussy pork?"

He smirks at me and tosses me a spoon.

I lay it on a flat surface and turn to face Izzy. "You expect me to use fucking spit or what bro?"

He huffs and comes back with his hands cupping and dripping water everywhere. He fills the spoon and wipes the excess off on the front of his jeans. Now I can get this shit started. I pour in enough coke for probably at least three highs. I stir it with a straw from some gaudy ugly ass 70s style center piece that sits in front of me. Shooting coke doesn't involve cooking. It's like opening a bag of chips versus sticking a TV dinner in a microwave.

Since I'm such a nice guy I let Izzy go first. He ties himself off and steadies the needle over his vein. I watch with a knowing smirk as his body stiffens. His pupils dilate. His eyes bug. His breathing hastens. He looks up at me and almost looks like a scared little kid.

"You hear it yet?" I ask as I prepare my own fix.

Izzy is silent. He just gets up and crosses over to the window to look out. I can see him place his hand on his chest. I spike my vein and feel that alertness come over me. And there it comes, that waaah waaah sound that is about to turn into a train.

"You ok Stradlin?" I ask.

He manages to look at me but he says nothing or gives me any form of acknowledgement.


"Is it supposed to be getting closer?" he asks me.

I chuckle and throw my arm around his shoulder, "Wait till it runs you over."

Paranoia comes in and sweeps us over a bit. We both stare out the window. The train in my head cant decide if it wants to keep going or go into reverse right back over me.

"That tree blocks everything. I can't see when someone is out there," Izzy says with those eyes that come from banging too much coke.

"Yeah, I'd cut it down," I agree.

"No saw," he mumbles trying to stare through the branches and leaves.

"Got a shotgun?" I ask.

"Beretta," he comments, his voice softer than usual in the throws of total paranoia.

"Got shells?" I ask and look around the room. "Tape maybe?"

He nods and quickly disappears into his closet. He returns with a roll of gaffer tape and a box of bullets. I take them and empty the box out on the bed. I quickly start taping them into a circle.

"What the fuck you doing Sixx?" Izzy pants as he watches me.

"Little tree trimming," I shrug and toss my finished product in my palm like a ball. I go over to the window and raise it. I throw one of my legs out and duck my head.


I stuff the ball of bullets down my pants and bear hug a branch and climb out to a fork in the tree.

"If you fall we will have to call an ambulance. The cops will come and shit. They'll ask questions and shit. Fuck they'll find dope. They'll know we're high!"

I ignore him because it's just the coke talking. "Rule one kid, never call cops or ambulances. Besides, I already showed you I have nine lives." I stuff the wad of bullets firmly in the V in the trunk. Then I start to crawl back to the window and back inside.

Izzy just looks at me and shrugs.

"Gun," I hold my hand out to him.

"Fuck you, I'm not giving you my fucking gun," he shakes his head.

"You a good shot?" I ask him.

"Good enough," he smirks.

"Come on then, better do this shit from outside in case a branch breaks the window."

Wide eyed and geeked out we sprint down the stairs and outside. We approach the tree. Izzy takes a breath and pulls his gun from his waistband. He slowly raises his arm and I'm surprised at how fucking steady it is. He squeezes the trigger and then BOOM! I instinctively duck and fucking cover my head.

"Fuck yeah!" Izzy laughs.

I peek through my arms and see embers blowing in the breeze. Fucking leaves are all over the place. I look to the tree and see two branches split away from the V in the trunk and laying on the ground.

"Hell yeah!" I shout and give Izzy a high five.

Then Axl comes running out. "What the fuck is going on out here?"

"Vision obstruction," I motion to the tree. And then in the distance I sirens. Shit.
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