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-Ugh! This pick sucks.
-My strap's not right. That's…
Okay. Okay, there we go.
-Cocks.
All right, hold on. Let's scoop that midrange.
-Nice.
One, two, three, four!
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.
What was that?
I was just-- You said play something fast.
Did you read the music that I wrote for you?
Yeah.
Do you know what polyrhythms are?
Yeah.
I don't.
These aren't my drums. They belong to Hunter.
And he came up with the band name. I don't play the drums, I play the drum.
This drum, in marching band for two years.
I do it to get out of PE, but Hunter says that doesn't matter.
All it takes to be great is commitment and sacrifice,
which is what metal's all about.
Or maybe it's about power,
or sticking it to the man, or denim, or motorcycles, or speed,
or the devil.
I don't totally understand it, but Hunter says I don't have to.
All I have to do is--
-Play something heavy, man. -Okay.
Like, uh… "Rock of Ages"?
Heavy.
Play… something heavy.
We need a bass player.
-Mm. -A bass player will be huge for us.
-Yeah, no doubt. -No doubt.
No doubt.
-Stop. Stop.
That's enough for today.
Emily, can I talk to you for a second?
The song you're playing is not the song they are playing.
I'm not sure you're even playing a march.
We've talked about this. You have to listen and play.
It's an orchestra, right? I know we're in a marching band, but--
I see you're upset.
Fuck you!
Fuck! I don't give a fuck about what I'm playing!
I don't give a fuck about what they're playing!
Fuck you!
Fuck your shitty band!
-Fucking bullshit!
-Too bad she can't play like she throws. -I don't give a fuck, so fuck you!
Fuck you!
-Cunt!
You can't say that in America.
That seems pretty metal to me, but I'm not sure.
-I'll ask Hunter about it.
He's been into many things since I met him,
but he's stuck with metal longer than any of them.
When his mom left in seventh grade, he decided it was the key to everything.
If we devote ourselves to metal, we'll own this school.
Watch it.
Everybody will see what we really are and worship us like gods.
I'm willing to give it a try.
Hunter's been my best friend
ever since he stopped Molly Levine from pulling out my hair in third grade.
He always looks out for me.
Skip Hoffman sucks pig dicks.
I don't think he was trying to hit me. I was just in the way.
-Clay Moss. -You ready for the game?
What I'm ready for is your homecoming after-party, man.
Yep, my parents are in Geneva.
So bring the whole school if you want, man, seriously.
-Tell whoever. Everybody's invited. -All right.
-Peace out, bro. -Catch you.
Hey, man.
What's up?
Asked your mom about the double bass kit?
What'd she say?
She said she doesn't have a thousand dollars.
Okay, well, what about a double bass pedal?
Won't get the resonance, but we'll have that attack.
Yeah, she said she doesn't have $150 either.
She's in my speech class. I think she's English.
Scottish. I don't know.
I heard she went apeshit on the band teacher.
Yeah.
That's one messed up chick.
I've never been to a party.
I always wondered what people like this did at them.
People whose bands didn't have names like Skullfucker.
Now I know.
Here we are…
in the middle of it all.
This rules.
Awesome idea.
He said everybody's invited.
How do they do it?
What are you talking about?
This is like three chords and they still can't get it right. They suck.
Look at the drummer.
-He's high out of his mind.
I mean, them, all of them. How did they just… do this,
like it's the easiest thing ever?
Okay, listen to me. Things are gonna happen for us.
Someday, all these people are gonna be like,
"Holy shit! Kevin Schlieb and Hunter Sylvester?"
"I went to high school with those guys."
"I could've even hung out with them, maybe."
But it's gonna be too late,
'cause we're gonna be too busy hanging out with the guys from Iron Maiden.
Great.
Hunter, it's not that bad, actually, once you get used to it. Seriously.
Hunter, seriously, our band is gonna be so awesome.
I'm gonna practice like five hours a day. I'm gonna be better than Ringo Starr.
-Mmm. -Hey!
Whoo! Heavy metal rules!
I have to go pee.
-I'll drive you home when you're finished. -After. After pee-pee.
What are you staring at?
You.
Why?
Because you're pretty. Why else do people stare at you?
People don't stare at me.
-That's dumb. -What?
Why don't they?
I could give you a million reasons.
My face is too narrow…
I am talking to a girl. I'm not even afraid of her.
Beer is amazing.
…and I'm very pale.
This party was a great idea. I don't care what Hunter says.
-And my nose… -Even he must be having fun right now.
What's happening, man?
Hey, he just called you a dipshit.
-No. No, I-- -What did you call me?
I didn't say anything to anybody. I swear.
Yes, you did.
Really?
Really.
That's why they don't stare at me.
They all stare at her.
Her? I could've stared at her.
I-- I don't-- I don't know either of you. I'm an impartmentege.
I'm an impart-- impartial judge.
You're funny.
-Ow!
Ah!
Dude, what the fuck?
Are you good, bruh? You hurt?
-Here, let me help you. -No, no. Let me help you.
Take lessons.
-You guys suck… bruh. -Ooh.
I'm sorry that you feel that way. Do you play?
Yeah, I have a band.
Me and my friend over here. A real band.
A serious band.
Not like you fucktards.
Got it. Um, I guess we'll be seeing you at the Battle of the Bands then.
There hasn't been a Battle of the Bands since Dave Migdall hung brain on stage.
There is this year.
Go sign up with Dean Swanson, but maybe don't say "fucktard,"
'cause she's a Special Olympics ambassador.
All right, guys. Let's keep this party going!
Give me your car keys.
-Come on.
Mm.
Hey.
I was next.
Hunter, I am busy.
If you'd like to wait until I am done with the Merinos--
I demand you let us compete in the Battle of the Bands.
Okay.
Not letting us play just because we're a post-death metal band
would be a complete violation of our First Amendment rights.
Your First Amendment rights as a minor are unclear,
but I agree it would be wrong to exclude you.
So why didn't anybody tell us about it?
-I wasn't aware you had a death metal-- -Post-death.
Thank you, Frank.
A post-death metal band.
You're welcome to participate,
as long as your performance is appropriate.
I had to work on her, but we're in.
Awesome.
So I guess we should start looking for a bass player, huh?
Yeah. Yeah, definitely.
This is huge for us.
Battle of the Bands is where it starts for people. Check it out.
-Troy Nix.
Jesus.
Guitarist and singer of Kiloton, Battle of the Bands winners 1996.
They were gods.
No one in this school liked heavy music same as now,
but Kiloton terrorized their way straight to victory.
By 1997,
they were considered the greatest unsigned metal band in the country.
They could have been right up there with Metallica or Pantera,
but they broke up.
I think drinking was involved.
But you and me, that's not gonna happen to us.
This is our moment. Heavy music is gonna rise up.
We win the Battle of the Bands, parlay that win into gigs,
and then those gigs score us a deal.
Okay. Uh…
-What kind of deal?
Cocks. Okay. I've gotta get all the way to C Hall.
But, um, meet me after school. We've got work to do.
Hail Satan.
'Sup, Robbie?
-Hop in. -Where are we going?
It doesn't seem metal to ask if he's got his dad's permission,
-so I won't.
But this…
This definitely seems metal, right? I mean, I think it does.
I'm not sure my mom and dad will.
These drums are gonna be huge for us.
He's right.
-They're huge.
Shut the fuck up!
Can I borrow the car?
If you drop your brother off first.
Your father will pick him up between shifts.
I'm the best at crawl, and I can tread water the second longest.
That's good, Earl.
And I can do the best cannonball, everybody says.
What's all this stuff?
My drums.
Drums are dumb.
Yeah.
I thought you were a clarinet player.
No. No.
That was just so I could do marching band instead of PE.
I do that too.
I'm Kevin.
Emily.
Um…
I saw you on the field.
Yeah, that was my fault.
I hadn't taken my meds for, like…
…a week.
I-- I take Pepcid, so…
Mm.
Do you like… heavy metal at all?
Like Rock of Ages?
Uh, no.
More like…
post-death doom metal?
I don't know what that is.
And the Slippers of Spider Climbing go to Malmsteen of Gorgoroth.
What kind of girlie name is Malmsteen of Gorgoroth?
I don't know, Dad. Why don't you ask one of your real housewives
while you're shoving water balloons into their tits?
Plastic surgeon.
I understand Dungeons & Dragons even less than metal,
but it's a chance for us to hang out with new people,
especially ones who play the bass.
Malmsteen…
If he joins Skullfucker, then we're a band, right?
-So we can play Battle of the Bands.
If people like us, maybe they'll ask us to play some parties.
I hope Hunter likes this guy.
Sometimes he's not so nice to people when he's uncomfortable.
Being around his dad makes him--
Well, Malmsteen just can't believe
that a halfling rogue would be dumb and ungrateful enough
to try and rip off a half-orc barbarian
who just saved him from five ice toads.
But he thinks he'll show mercy.
Until he remembers that mercy is for the weak.
Malmsteen pulls out Hell Slinger, his +3 great sword…
Hunter.
…and he tells Auriac Stormhollow to shut his glory hole
before he starts his first attack.
-Plus ten, that's a hit. -Hunter, don't be an idiot.
He runs the blade between the thief's ribs.
-Second attack.
Uh-oh!
There goes the leg.
And for the final attack…
Oh, shit.
Head over to Dr. Sylvester's for some post-op implants,
because I just chopped off your dick.
Sure. Sure.
You just remember that those implants are what paid for your guitar,
your incel action figures,
and all your dumbass Satan-worship T-shirts!
I'm gonna go play tennis!
Did you see my American Express?
Where are you going?
Leaving.
This sucks compared to Call of Duty. Kevin, see you in class.
Hunter, we were going to ask him to play bass for us.
He says he's pretty good.
It's for the best. We can never trust a guy like that.
I'm telling you, she's really good.
We need a bass player. A metal bass player.
She can be metal.
That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.
Why? Why is that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard?
Because a cello-playing girl is so non-metal
that even thinking about it is evaporating my balls.
A lot of the time, Hunter, I don't know what you're talking about.
Metal, not metal… Uh…
Maybe I'm just not right for Skullfucker.
Okay, switch places with me.
-What? -Just do it.
Slide over. Open the door, but don't get out.
-Did you get her number? -Of course I got it.
Then, what is it?
I know I said I'd get her number, but I got her Snapchat.
-Snapchat is actually… -No! No, no, no, no.
-No, no, no, no. -It's fine.
-It's the same thing. -It's not the same thing. You know it.
What?
Suck it, cunt.
Ow!
Go, go! Fuck!
Go! Fuck! Fuck!
Go, go, go, go, go!
Why? Why did you do that?
Truth to power, bitch! Drive!
Why?
Drive. If he gets close enough, you're just as fucked as I am.
You slow down, you die. That's metal.
That is a dumb Keanu Reeves movie!
Oh, shit.
Watch out. He'll see you in the mirrors if he gets close enough.
What am I doing? Oh, God!
You're an asshole.
Okay. We can shake him.
-Turn left on Aspen.
Oh.
-Don't slow down. Keep going straight. -To where? Where?
-There! -I… We will not fit in there!
I know this car!
-Fucking do it!
-Whoo!
-No, no, no! -Whoo!
Oh, fuck!
-Oh, shit.
Whoa!
Fuck you! Fuck you!
Dude.
I understand now.
Metal is commitment,
and speaking truth to power, and sticking it to the man, and speed.
That was fucking awesome.
Metal is taking the wheel.
What's this?
-Homework.
Black Sabbath.
Iron Maiden.
Judas Priest.
Metallica.
Anthrax.
Slayer.
Megadeth.
Motörhead.
Guns N' Roses.
Rage Against the Machine.
Pantera.
Emperor. Tool. Dio.
Meshuggah. Opeth. Slipknot.
Mastodon. Lamb of God.
This is your history now.
Learn it. Live it.
Do lines of it in the bathroom.
I'll be working on this.
It's the solo to "Machinery."
It fucking shreds.
-I had these made up.
For luck.
I'll get to work on this, then.
Cocks.
Fuck me, okay.
Ah!
Fuck.
Hey. Um…
Hi.
Man, she's amazing.
Maybe Hunter'll change his mind about her when I tell him how much she shreds.
…enunciation and projection.
These are two of the most important tools in your communications toolbox.
Enunciation is the way we shape the sounds that come out of our mouths.
Uh…
Dean Swanson wants to see Hunter Sylvester.
They only got suspended two weeks.
Swanson wanted a month, but their ass-rapist coach intervened.
Yeah, still, they're gone.
They can't come back to campus or anything.
But when they come back, they'll totally ass-rape me
for getting them suspended in the first place.
Getting them suspended? It's their fault.
They defaced your hair.
I flicked him in the chops first.
Okay, well, at Clay Moss's party,
they pushed you into the speaker in front of everybody.
They started it.
Yeah, I don't think your average suburban Nazi shitbag
is gonna see it that way.
How is it?
It's cool. Yeah, it's cool. Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah, I kind of look like Jason Newsted from Metallica, the bass player.
Hmm.
Oh, right, the one who got fired.
It's more Viking than Newsted.
Yeah, like the school mascot.
No. No, not like the school mascot.
Less like the school mascot than anything on Earth.
More like a baby's dick than the school mascot.
If a baby's dick grew its own baby dick, then my hair would be more like--
Sorry I'm so late. Glad you guys are still here.
No… No problem.
No, yeah, not at all.
Uh… Yeah. Um, so…
Um…
What do you know?
Well, how about you guys start playing and I'll work my way in.
Cool.
Um…
How far have you gone in the… the thing--
Yeah. I… I got through Metallica, Judas Priest.
I'm in the middle of Slayer right now and I'm having a little bit of trouble--
Okay. Okay. Let's try, uh…
Let's try "For Whom the Bell Tolls." Okay? You got it, Kev?
Yeah, okay.
One, two, three, four. One, two.
Yeah. Okay, cool. All right, man.
Let's…
That was cool. Le-- Um, let's try playing the song.
Let's try playing the song,
and we can see how we vibe together as a band,
and then we'll work on all the stage-show elements later.
Right. Cool.
-Two, three, four.
I just--
Um, I'm, like, kind of getting confused, 'cause I just don't know what else to do.
Dude, you can play, or you can be wasted,
but you can't play wasted. It's not working out.
We don't need a bass player to beat those stooges.
Just keep it us two.
Okay. Like, uh… White Stripes.
Weak. No, here, check this out.
It's just two guys.
It means that we wouldn't have to split our contest winnings three ways…
Something to consider.
That's mean.
Yeah, it is.
It doesn't feel like a good time to tell Hunter
that I don't wanna be in a band that sounds like people being tortured.
But I think it's time for him to seriously consider the only good option we have.
No, it's a great option.
It is time to speak truth to power.
We have, like, two weeks, and she can learn everything in two days.
It's nothing personal, Emily.
It's just you're not consistent with the image we're trying to project…
like I told Kevin.
Is it because she's a girl?
No.
Well… what about Joan Jett?
Doesn't she rock?
Um, the-- What about The Runaways?
That's Joan Jett.
-Okay. Well, there's Lita Ford. -That's The Runaways.
And there's, um…
There's, uh… What's her-- Um…
-Kevin. -Uh, what-- what's…
-What's the one with the song… -Kevin.
Kevin. Kevin. Kevin. Kevin.
Kevin, we are a metal band.
We are not an indie metal band. We are not an alt-metal band.
We are not a sort of metal band. We are a metal band.
And for us to have a cello player instead of a bass player
would be completely gay.
-Uh…
You've gotta take all that in context.
Gay?
Gay? Our band is called Skullfucker.
Skullfucker.
You named it that to impress girls?
We're gonna die virgins in a band called Skullfucker.
What I meant was, we're not--
Oh, come on. Like she didn't know.
Hello?
-Hey. It's Kevin. -Oh.
Hey.
Uh, hey, I… wanted to apologize
again for Hunter being so rude, and…
-That stuff he said. He-- It's okay.
I'm one too.
Hm?
A virgin.
I know, it's a shocker.
Oh, um… Uh, no,
I was talking about that stuff he said about girl cello players
in a metal band being gay.
Right. Sorry. Eh…
First of all, that's a totally messed up thing to say.
Well, maybe he's right.
No, he's not, and…you're not.
Not what?
Are we talking gayness, or heavy metal, or virginity?
Uh, um…
All of them, I think. Uh…
They seem related.
You are, right?
Gay? I don't think so.
I guess there's sort of a spectrum.
A virgin.
Oh, um…
Yes, definitely.
Hm…
Do… you want to?
To…
Do you want to not be?
I, uh…
Y-- yes.
Uh, um… Uh, do you?
-You know where Temple Solel is? -On Cleavy? Yeah.
Will you meet me in the car park in a half hour?
Oh, and can you bring thingies?
For your thingy?
Hey, Mom. Uh…
-I need the car. -Okay.
Well, your father should be back from the shop around 8:00.
-And then we-- -Mom, I need the car.
Fucking…
-I know. I know.
-We said 6:15.
It is now 8:00.
-Well, something came up. -What?
What came up?
Nothing.
I thought it was something. You said it was something.
Well, I was wrong. It was nothing.
I can imagine something being more important than a band practice.
Actually, I can't.
But I definitely can't see how nothing could be more important, Kevin.
Well, nothing is more important.
Or nothing isn't more important.
What I mean--
I don't need Abbott and Costello from you, okay?
I need a drummer. A real drummer.
Metal is commitment, Kevin.
It's dedication, sacrifice,
mortification of the flesh and all that shit.
It's serious.
And if you're not gonna be,
if you'll be all "girls with cello, showing up whenever I feel like it,"
then this isn't gonna work.
And we won't win the Battle of the Bands,
and then you're gonna be a loser for the rest of your life.
Hey.
Hey!
-Hey! -Oh, hey.
Hi.
Where did you learn how to play?
Uh…
I don't know.
My friend just gave me these songs, and I practiced them.
I'm not, you know, a real drummer or anything.
Are you fucking high?
That was intense.
Yeah?
Have you got a minute?
Are they all like this? Just pretty much the same beat all the way through?
-Yeah. -Pretty much.
Please, Kevin. I promised my sister, and she's so psyched to have us play.
But Ray's not getting out of rehab for another month,
and we're tired of playing with a wasted drummer.
-Yeah, man. - Fuck that dummy.
I would like to,
but it's like I said, I'm in this band with Hunter,
and Battle of the Bands is really important to him.
-Lots of guys are in two bands. -Eric Clapton was in, like, 60 bands.
And I heard you play, man.
You could learn our songs in ten minutes.
Don't even worry about the Battle of the Bands for now,
just my sister's wedding.
-Let me think about it. -I feel you.
But the wedding's this weekend,
so don't think too long.
-Fuck.
You blinked.
-I blunk. -You blunk.
Three out of five?
I'm pretty sure you're better at staring than me.
Mm-hmm.
Those your meds?
Mm-hmm.
My happy pills.
-Don't you need more?
Mm-mm.
Lay on top of me.
Not yet.
Let's just, um,
lie like this.
I like it.
Makes me feel… smooshed.
On the field, when I first saw you…
Yeah.
…did it feel… good to
throw stuff and yell at people?
No.
Feels good to not want to throw stuff and yell at people.
You're my happy pill.
Mm.
It's only a wedding.
Look, you've got to understand something, Kevin. We don't fit in.
You can try as hard as you want. You can get yourself a girlfriend,
or whatever, but you still won't fit in.
She doesn't fit in either. Why can't we all not fit in together?
We're not talking about that now. I don't even wanna go there.
We're talking about you being a traitor--
Maybe I wanna talk about it.
I'm the founding member of Skullfucker, and I say no Yokos.
You said "fuck."
We are both founding members of Skullfucker.
-Don't! -I am way more founding.
I write songs, buy equipment, designed our Facebook page--
Oh, fuck our Facebook page!
I'm the founding member of Skullfucker, and I say no Yokos!
-No more fuck! -Shut up!
End of conversation.
No, you-- No. You can't just declare end of conversation.
You don't have that authority.
Fine, end of conversation.
And that is how you knit a sweater.
Very good, Andrea.
Did you hear how she enunciated and projected?
Get her all the way in the back, right?
And now, Hunter.
"Death closes all
But something ere the end
Some work of noble note
May yet be done
Not unbecoming men that strove with gods."
Tennyson's "Ulysses."
You might know it from your English class.
This speech is about metal.
Metal is about what "Ulysses" was about.
Striving with gods.
Striking out for unknown territory.
The people that crossed the Bering Strait 12,000 years ago?
Metal.
That Kon-Tiki guy?
Metal.
The people on the Mayflower…
…would've been metal if it weren't for all the Jesus crap.
And Ulysses, what did he do?
Huh?
Read Dante. He'll tell you.
Ulysses got together the baddest ass crew he could find,
and then he sailed off beyond the Pillars of Hercules,
and then he was drowned,
and pulled right down to hell.
Eighth circle.
What is more metal than that?
Only the ninth circle.
So… achieving your dreams with fellow badasses,
going to hell if you have to…
Oh, that sounds great, right?
But it wasn't so easy for Ulysses.
See, he had, um…
He had Penelope,
Mrs. Ulysses, keeping him down.
"Stay home."
"Be king."
"Go to work every day."
He wasted decades of his life on that shit.
-Hunter.
-Stop it.
But one day, Ulysses decided he was finished with his woman.
Hunter, that's enough!
It was inevitable.
Sooner or later, the metal inside him was bound to rise up…
…and crush whatever stood in its path!
-Fucker! Fucking cunt! -You're fucking crazy!
I'll fucking-- I will fucking kill you!
-Don't you ever come near me again! -Ow!
-Not the guitar!
That was inappropriate, bordering on inexcusable.
I completely agree.
I'm talking about you.
Wait, what?
Is that what you've learned from your interactions
with the vicious morons like Skip Hoffman?
How to torment people weaker than you?
Look, I've got some personal issues with her--
I could give a shit about your personal issues with that poor girl.
You're going to write down exactly what you did.
If Miss Johnson corroborates your account,
I'll include it in the disciplinary notice I'll send to your father.
If she doesn't, I will suspend you.
Your friend's a massive dick.
What the fuck?
The fuck you doing?
You are afraid of everybody, and instead of showing it like I do,
you treat everybody like shit and you make them hate you.
Great. They leave you alone, they leave me alone.
Both of us are alone. Mission accomplished.
-No, no, no-- -No, shut up.
You need me a lot more than I need you.
Without me, all of your dumb fantasies disappear.
But without you, I might actually live a real life.
You… You can't.
You can't.
We're Skullfucker.
Fine. Fine. Go enjoy your new fucking wacko girlfriend
and your new--- and your new shitty band and--
And Rock of Ages!
It's my fault.
It's Hunter's fault. He's a massive dick.
But I never would've lost it like that
-if I hadn't stopped taking my meds. -It was not your fault! Wh--
No, don't…
-I'm not mad.
You didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing wrong with you.
Yeah, there is.
The concentration of serotonin in my synapses is too low.
Okay, but there's something more wrong with everyone else.
You have a right to be mad, especially at Hunter.
Why am I like this?
Everybody else didn't make me like this.
Hunter didn't make me like this.
-My parents love me.
They try as hard as they can.
Nah, not their fault.
You're not anybody's fault.
Huh.
You're not…
a fault.
You--
There may be something… wrong with you, but…
you're perfect.
You ever get angry?
Sometimes.
I get it.
Sometimes… also sad.
You know why?
I don't know.
It's because people treat you like you're invisible.
Like you're not even there.
Like you're nothing.
But you're more than that. You're better than that.
You're not nothing. You're something.
You're somebody.
I'm Robbie.
Fuck yeah, you are.
We're done taking shit, you and me.
Take off the costume, Krusty the Clown.
We gotta talk about this, uh, "What I did at school today" essay right here.
Sorry, you're just a little late with the whole parenting thing.
Get back inside!
Go bang another nurse!
Fuck.
This is private property.
My drummer's in there.
I'm going in.
No, you ain't. Get the hell out of here.
Who are you
to stop a man
who strives with gods?
That was great, brother. Really great.
Yeah, it was fun.
You killed that shit. We never sounded anything like that before.
I want you to know, man, if…
If you wanna play with us at the Battle of the Bands,
we would love to have you.
Or even if you don't.
I mean, if you just wanna hang, it's… It's all good.
Thanks.
Yeah, I might take you up on both of those.
Respect.
Wanna come hang with the other dudes?
Yeah. Yes.
Let me just finish up here.
You're lucky they didn't press charges.
I want my stuff back.
Weapons confiscated from a minor at the time of an arrest
shall be considered forfeit to the township.
This is the last straw. No, wait.
No.
This is the last straw.
Mm? Right there.
-What are you gonna do?
Listen, look.
-The Battle of the Bands is on Friday-- -Not for you it ain't!
Let's go.
-Go, go, go.
Hey!
Drummer boy!
I…
I don't have a bathing suit.
Every time I see you, you are wasted.
Yeah.
Hey, let me try your glasses.
I like these.
I saw Timothée Chalamet wearing glasses like this on Insta once.
I like Call Me by Your Name.
It's so sweet, right?
He's so hot in that.
My cousin in Santa Barbara totally fucked him.
You're staring at me again.
Uh…
I can't even see you.
Hmm. Yeah. Well, I don't even know your name.
It's Kevin.
Kendall.
See me now?
Yo, dude. What, are you waiting for a tutorial?
Come on, man. What about Emily? They've got a real relationship.
One built on trust and emotional honesty.
And this? I mean, come on, dude. What's really going on here?
Hold on, Tom. Kendall's a person too.
She likes Kevin. She's making her desires known.
There's absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Yeah, maybe, but Emily's really loyal. This would ruin her.
Back in the day, we all got up to stuff.
He's only a drummer. He should have what he wants.
If he's in that hot tub, he'll have what he gets.
A year ago, I didn't know who these guys were.
But now, after a bottle of champagne,
they're all making some really good points.
Oy.
Oy!
You found someone who loves you.
Do you love her back?
Uh-huh.
Then, don't be an asshole, Kevin.
I'm sorry.
I have to go.
I have a girlfriend.
Thank you, Rob Halford of Judas Priest.
You don't turn your back on the people who love you.
I'm gonna get this.
You don't have to.
I want to.
Oh. Here it is.
I've been looking for this for, like, forever.
-I should have it. -What?
-I found it. -What? Give me that.
You wouldn't even know about Lamb of God if it wasn't for me?
Cunt.
Listen, I've got to get out of here immediately.
I've got this important--
We are doing a preliminary eval on you, right?
Let's get started.
I'm Dr. Nix.
Troy Nix?
Yeah.
The Troy Nix?
From Kiloton?
Yeah, that's right.
Dude. Dude, you guys were gods.
-I-- I go to Glenwood Lake High, man. -I see that.
Hmm. My condolences.
-So you're a doctor now? -Yeah.
Was an alcoholic.
Place like this saved me from a slow fucking suicide,
so I went back to school, got my Psy D.
Give something back, that kind of shit.
What happened to Kiloton?
My bandmates happened.
They wouldn't practice, wouldn't learn the songs.
-So that's why you broke up? -That was part of it.
But mostly it was because those guys were fuck-holes.
They wouldn't go an inch out of their own way
for anybody but themselves.
Look, if you're gonna record with people, you're gonna tour with people,
you're gonna spend all day, every day, with them for years,
you sure as shit better like hanging out with them.
Otherwise, your life is gonna suck.
Then you're gonna start drinking to forget how bad your life sucks,
and before you know it…
You a drinker?
No.
Drugs? Weed?
-Coke? -No.
-Meth? -No.
-H? -No.
-Acid? -No.
-Molly? -No.
-You vaping? -No.
-Self-harm? -No.
-Sleep too much? -No.
-Too little? -No.
Suicidal ideation?
-Did you destroy any property?
Not that they know about.
What, then?
Just fucking metal, man.
I get this kind of shit all the time. Okay, come on.
Up. Let's go.
Yo, hold up.
Where are you going?
You're fine, dude.
Now, this motherfucker…
Hey.
He's a mess. He and I have a lot of work to do.
Which is why I can't babysit your ass just because you like brutal fucking music.
I'm recommending you for discharge.
The board will follow my recommendations. They always do.
-I scare the shit out of them. -Thank you, man. Thank you.
No problem. We will have you out of here by Monday.
Monday? Why Monday?
They review recommendations over the weekend.
Okay. Um, is there any way we could get that review done tonight?
Nah, no way in hell.
They're already driving home in their Jaguars listening to Sting. Why?
The Battle of the Bands is tomorrow, and my band is totally poised to win.
Okay, look, check it out.
Hmm.
Skullfucker.
Nice.
Fucking Battle of the motherfucking Bands.
Sorry.
Anyway, give you another year to practice.
See you around, bitch.
Nah. Thank you, man.
Hey, Clay.
Yeah, are we going to practice before?
No? Okay. No. We don't need to. It's fine.
Yeah, I'll see you at 7:00 at the cafeteria.
-All right. Thanks, Clay.
It's Hunter. I'm not here. Deal.
Fuck.
Who the fuck calls on a landline?
Hello?
Oh, hey, Kevin. Uh…
No, Hunter isn't here right now.
He-- He what?
So where is he?
I feel like this is his way of begging me to come back to the band.
He doesn't belong in there.
Maybe he does.
There's definitely something wrong with him. He's shitty to everyone.
Even you. You're supposed to be his best friend.
You said it yourself, he's a massive dick.
I would have never understood what a massive dick he is if it wasn't for you.
And I wouldn't have met you if it wasn't for metal,
and I wouldn't have thought about metal for five seconds if it wasn't for Hunter.
So you owe him?
He's my best friend.
I gotta get him out of there.
Will you come with me?
Wait, so first you tell me that I should hate him,
and now you want me to help him?
Uh, you'd sort of be helping me help him.
It's okay. It's okay.
No, I can't! Not after what he did.
You don't have to. It's okay. I mean it.
Okay?
Okay.
I have to go.
Can I help you?
Yeah. Yeah, I… I hope so.
My best friend, he's-- he's got problems. He's a, uh…
A sniffer.
Gasoline?
-Turpentine, butane, propane? -Yep, yep, yep, all those.
He mixes them, and his parents don't know what to do,
so I wanted to get them a brochure.
You're a good friend. They're right back there.
Wait right here. I'll get some more.
You four have outdone yourselves yet again.
It definitely looks like a party in here.
Thank you.
Now, before you tell us which dessert you're taking,
why don't you--
Where's the remote?
All right, you two, which dessert are you choosing?
-We are choosing…
-Come on.
Are you serious?
Kevin.
Shh. Come on.
Look, man, I gotta tell you, I'm just--
-I, uh… -Tell me later. Please. Come on.
You know Ray. He's the drummer from Mollycoddle.
Anyway, he's a good guy.
Bring him.
You do know we have to bring you back after Battle of the Bands?
That's cool.
Can't deal on the outside. I don't have the coping mechanisms.
Okay, wait. How are we getting out?
-Okay. -Right, come on.
Move out, please.
-Let's go. Come on. -No running.
Outside.
You!
Fuck. Fuck.
This thing… it's fucking useless.
You'll never get clean articulation at high speeds with a pick this thin.
Here.
Try this one.
Thank you.
-This your car? -Yeah.
It's a real piece of shit.
You deserve a better best friend.
Yeah, probably, but you're the one I got.
I'm sorry, Kevin.
Don't say it to me.
You nearly cracked my fucking skull, dude.
And you put a really large dent in my guitar.
Your behavior has been violent and unpredictable.
You are metal beyond reproach.
So will you please, please, please,
please accept my apology
and come crack some fucking skulls with us at the Battle of the Bands?
I--
I can't.
Emily.
I'm not ready.
Oh, God.
Mollycoddle, you guys are up next.
Dude.
-Dude? -I'm sorry.
You guys have been great, and I'd love to play with you again, but…
I can only be in one band.
I brought you your drummer.
Is he wasted?
I feel you, man.
It's all good.
Hey, brother.
I've been meaning to apologize for what happened at my party.
Yeah, and I apologize
for the whole… wedding thing.
-That was-- -That was weird.
Yup, and I'm sorry about the things I said about your band.
You guys are good…
at what you do.
So may the best band win.
So you guys like a duo?
Yeah, it looks that way.
Like the White Stripes?
Yeah, like the White Stripes.
Nice.
You're lucky to have this guy, man.
Yeah, I am.
-Yo. Suspension's over, bitch. -Hey.
Welcome back, big man.
-I got a bottle of Jack in the new truck. -Let's go!
Thank you, Glenwood Lake. GLHS is lit!
-I love you! -Nix was right about this pick.
I can do this. We're gonna crush this shit.
But I don't know.
How will it sound with nothing on the bottom, no chords, no riff?
No, it-- it'll be like, uh…
Like jazz…
…ish.
Now I'm ready.
-Dude.
Let's do this shit.
One, two, three…
Skullfucker!
Nope. That is not appropriate. It's got to go.
-No, it can't go.
It is painted on the heads.
Well, I can't let you bring those in there, so…
-Wha--
Oy.
-Eli, I need a favor. -Of course, Emily. What do you need?
I need to get into the art room.
Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for Skullflower.
This is a little song… about…
…the machinery of torment!
Hey, isn't that Hunter Sylvester and Kevin Schlieb?
And what's-her-name, the-- the shitty clarinetist.
Could've been in a band with those guys.
This blows.
Dude.
-No.
Woo-woo.
Yeah! Metal! Woo!
-Ah!
-Oh, shit.
Oh, shit. Oh…
Call an ambulance. Someone call 911.
Hunter, don't look at your leg, okay?
My toes are so numb.
Gotta wiggle them. Come on, little fuckers.
This fucking bow is fucked.
-Ow, dude.
-Dude. -I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry.
Ah! That's better.
Congratulations.
Bronze medalists.
Silver medalists. We came in second.
Oh, hey, uh, looks like you're going viral.
Well… at least I didn't get arrested.
So,
progress?
Well,
no bad publicity, right?
All right, well,
I got a date.
Yeah, she's a pediatrician.
Big tits. Natural.
Not a client.
I can't believe we lost.
It's fine. It's cool.
They're nice guys. The people have spoken. This is what they want.
-No, fuck 'em.
Fuck 'em, every single one.
Who are people gonna remember? Us.
That is us right there, headlining.
-We were good. -No, we were fucking great.
You smashed that intro, dude.
Yes, she did. That was some Yo-Yo Ma shit.
-And your solo… -Holy fuck, that was unreal.
But what about this motherfucker?
Oh, my man slapped them in their faces with his double bass dick.
Yes. Uh, yes, I did.
-You know what?
Let them have their fads. Fads come and go.
But not us.
We're forever.
Now it starts for us. Now people know our name.
We're Skullflower.
Skullflower!
Fuck, we rip.