Q: “Hey, what’s up?”
A: “Oh, ya know, ripping apart, severing flesh, gouging eyes, tearing limb from limb.”
Q: “Hey, why won’t the red light change?
A: “Hmm, gods of the throne must be watching from hell.”
Hessian = West coast name for a heavy metal fan
by John Quittner
Halloween 1991 was my first Halloween in Olympia, Wa. and I didn’t have any plans, so I was spending the evening cold kickin’ it with my roomies Brent and Maia watching Star Trek. As I went to the kitchen to fetch the wine, my confident strut was interrupted by a knock at the door. I opened up and found myself staring at two young hessians no older than 13 , who wore no costume except that of their normal hessain selves– sleeveless denim jacket with Guns and Roses headband and curled lip etc.
“Fuckin’ trick or treat.” they said.
‘We don’t have any candy or anything.”
“Got a cigarette?” one asked hopefully with a snarl.
“I don’t smoke.”
“Got any alcohol?” They were quite bold.
“Well,” I pointed to the liquor store “they’ll probably sell you some over there.”
“Aww dude, do I look 21 to you?”
“Sure.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Yeah fuckin’ right.” They didn’t look like they were going anywhere.
I got an idea. “You guys want a Judas Priest record?”
Their eyes got all big…” Fuck yeah!” they said in unison.
“Well hang on a second, ” I started digging through my old hesh records.
“Fuck, man. Do you have PAINKILLER?”
‘Uh huh,” the last Judas Priest record I had bought was DEFENDERS OF FAITH, but then it occurred to me that budding heshers were more into speed metal, not standard early 80’s viking striking stuff.
“Who wants Anthrax FIST FULL OF METAL?”
I handed them both over and let them fight it out.
“KILLER! Thanks man!”
They ran off into the night, and I slept easy knowing that I had pleased two young heshers on their most special night of the year. How stoked would King Diamond be!?