Snippet #1894137

"VISIONS OF DELIRIUM AND BLURS OF MISLEADING LAUGHTER CRY OUT--AT ONE MOMENT THE WORDS THAT WERE ONCE SPOKEN MUFFLED BY THE DISTANCE OF PASSING SOON BECOME CLEAR..."

To more or less everyone who had the misfortune of being within a mile of the massive, smoke-belching muscle car, the lyrics to Suffocation's most beautifully named Entrails Of You--a song currently being blared from within the vehicle at obscene volumes--were incomprehensible grunts and growls. To the occupants of the car, quite well-versed in the art of deciphering extreme metal's often nigh-unintelligible vocals, they painted a very clear picture--an artform that only one of the two within, it was clear, was enjoying. As always, Izzie had taken immediate command of the car's sound system.

"How the fuck can you tolerate this shit?" Izzy Valverde demanded of her twin sister. Years of argument and invective about the nature of their respective outrageously loud music had enabled Izzie to easily discern her sister's complaint from amongst the atrocious assault of death metal, prompting her to turn her head from the road ahead and towards Izzy. "There's no feeling. Except for feeling like someone's giving the singer a colonoscopy with their guitar."

"My sincerest fuckin' apologies, princess, I forgot your delicate ears were too used to spineless pussies in corpse make-up who can't play for jack shit screeching about Satan." Izzie accompanied her spiteful retort by shoving the music up to greater still volumes. "I had to tolerate your emo black metal bullshit all day yesterday. Today, we're listening to some real fucking metal, and if you don't like it, well you can get the fuck on out and walk the rest of the way." The 'elder twin' (as Izzie was fond of referring to herself) shook her head and muttered under her breath, "First she fuckin' burns the breakfast, then she has the gall to bitch whenever I turn on halfway decent music..."

Izzy's dark brown eyes flashed irascibly. "I only burnt the panqueca because you didn't come and get me when they were done. And I do all the fucking cooking, and seeing as you couldn't make yourself a sandwich if you were about to die of hunger, your ungrateful ass would've starved a long time ago if I weren't there."

"Don't forget that most of our money? Comes from me." Izzie sneered triumphantly as she commandeered their mutual vehicle closer and closer to its destination. "You hardly make any fucking money at that useless bookstore of yours--maybe you could suggest that they pick up some books anyone would be halfway fucking interested in, that might get you some actual business--FUCK!" Izzie unleashed yet another immediate obscenity as Izzy's responce, arriving in the form of her fist slamming into Izzie's arm, forced the twin to swerve to avoid their car getting turned into a pancake by an oncoming truck. "Christ," she muttered angrily. "Add 'nearly getting us fucking killed' to that list..."





It was in much that same fashion that the Valverde twins arrived at their destination--an educational institution by the name of 'Treaty View High'. Actually, by the time they'd arrived, it just so happened that Izzie decided--in what others would undoubtedly see as the non-sequiter of the century--to switch from brutal death metal to Minor Threat. This was, as it were, one of few territories of rock where the two sisters could possibly come to a semblance of agreement, and so as they exited the old car, the last few notes of Minor Threat's 'I Don't Wanna Hear It' striving to make themselves heard before Izzie silenced the music, they were no longer arguing.

Not about music.

"I still say the whole damn thing is straight-up bullshit," Izzie declared to her sister, who crossed her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at this. "'Kiss Chase'? What is this, second grade?"

"It's necessary," Izzy pointed out bluntly in typical laconic manner. "Scholarship? We need that. If we don't--"

"Yes, yes, I get it, you gave me the depressing 'we'll be fucked for life' speech so many times I've lost all will to live, whatever," Izzie cut across her sister irately as they departed the parking lot for the halls of the school building itself. "But a fucking kiss game? Whichever genius jackass devised this bullshit direly needs a beating."

Izzy remained silent in responce to this as they transitioned from the wide-open asphalt expanse of the parking lot into the hectic hell of the halls, whereupon Izzie, as always distressed by the crowds, subtly expressed her discontent by angrily shoving everyone out of her way, clearing a path for herself and what looked like a second 'herself' trailing behind her unapologetically. Indeed, it was nigh impossible to distinguish Izzy and Izzie by their appearance--for where many twins sought to distinguish themselves from one another, Izzie and Izzy went out of their way to look alike, right down to the multi-coloured dreadlocks, towering statures, metal-covered leather jackets, bullet belts, the whole shtick. Had anyone here known the least damn thing about metal, they could differentiate the twins based on their selection of band tee--for whereas Izzy was clad in a shirt proudly bearing the insignia of black metal pioneers Burzum, Izzie wore the name and logo of Napalm Death--the seminal band of grindcore, that most abrasive genre which Izzy could not for the life of her tolerate. This was a non-issue to most present, who recognised the senior twins and didn't care much which was which as long as neither came their way--instead keeping their distance, watching irritatedly, amusedly, disgustedly, or just plain curiously as the two twins argued, yelled, fought, and carved their path through the gathering crowds.