Honorable Mention #1 Josh from Type O
For the love of Horgh, check out that tumbleweed! Poor Josh; he’s been playing those songs for so long his jellied brain can’t do anything but spur robotic headbanging. I mean, the guy can barely keep his eyes open at this point. And what exactly is that nicotine-stained baby seal pelt hanging from his face? It’s time to throw in the towel, gents.
Honorable Mention #2 Kimono Dragon
Dude, no. Please stop. I asked the man for his picture and this is the pose he struck, as if it were his everyday attire, as if I had no reason to be snapping his photo. Seriously, the guy is wearing a kimono, for heaven’s sake. Black belt metal!!! Then I saw the kilt and I knew I’d found Wacken’s biggest deadbeat. Words are senseless here. All I can do is just shake my head and try to forgive myself.
#10 – Neo
I just don’t even know anymore. As if parading around in those metallic, Hot Topic clodhoppers wasn’t bad enough, this kid decided to go ahead and make his Unplugged statement. Fuck you! The first movie is tolerable, I’ll give you that, but the other two are simply monstrous. To celebrate The Matrix is to celebrate all that is despicable about Hollywood. On that note, Germans sure talk a lot of shit about America, but my do they have their mouths clamped firmly around our assholes, gobbling up our shitty blockbusters like bad liverwurst. Surely, he’s staring into the hay, contemplating the fate of Zion. Also, Rammstein shorts? Fuck you twice! Do us all a favor and plug yourself back in, Bozo.
# 9 George and Lennie
Had these yokels actually tattooed the inverted crosses on their backs I would’ve given props, but no, they taped them on. Taped! Wait, what? And that’s no ordinary stroll, dear readers, no casual swing of the arms, that’s a fucking purposeful strut! On my initial glance, I thought the short guy was a topless woman, and I was certain we had a #1 finisher. Sadly, it wasn’t the case, but he does appear to be Goliaths’ bitch. The best part is that you know they taped each other up in their tent. My advice to the longhair: Take your best friend to the river and shoot him.
#8 Unfettered Scum
What dumpster full of rotten schnitzel did this asshole crawl out of? Is it really surprising to find out that he was sitting alone? He’s so hammered that he couldn’t even keep eye contact with me. Is that a patch of chest hair, manure or mud? Cats is playing on Broadway, dude, not the true metal stage. And pay no attention to what’s written on his stomach, that’s just German for “I’m a fucking idiot.”
#7 Spider Schweine
The only explanation I have for these guys is that the Simpsons movie had already come out in Germany prior to Wacken, and for some reason, the spider pig scene was a huge hit. I heard “Spider Schwein” being chanted all fucking weekend, and it drove me mad. Anyhow, what sort of half-assed shit is this? More like Hulk, the dude on the left is clearly too big for his britches; he’s got the top stitched to his Spidey shorts. Now, it’s my job to look these photos over carefully, examining everything that might be exploited for humor, so I’m just gonna say it ” take a good look at the big guy. I mean, a good one. Is that his COCK??!! Fucking hell man!!! It looks horribly, painfully displaced by the pressure of the spandex. I should probably mention that it was only about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and the Spidermen were done for the night.
#6 The Gimp
What in the holy hell? How on earth is this at all metal? I can somewhat understand if you’re on stage, or you know, at an Amsterdam fetish club, but why? I want answers! Does he wear this all the time? Is the neck hole there in case of an emergency tracheotomy? He’ obviously taken a strap-on harness, turned it upside down, and made headgear out of it. Stop casting furtive glances at the guy next to you! It’s making me ill. And, like, if you’ve already got a nose opening for air, what’s the mouth opening for? Oh yeah, a big, sweaty, vein-encased dick. Fucking weirdo.
Vikings are always good for a solid Top Ten showing, so these two drew out for the prestigious #5 slot. They’re both uglier than sin, both equally pathetic, and they both just basically rule. So, who wins in a fight? I got my money on Corndog; the fucker looks like he can take a punch. Anyone who has been to Wacken knows the guy in the plastic helmet. He generally never leaves the beer garden unless he’s fumbling around strumming his pink blow-up guitar. The second guy, equally fat, thought it was a good idea to pack on an additional 40 pounds of chainmail, which turns into a skirt. He’s also got fingerless gloves. Hold on, someone sound the Bennett siren. To bulge through chainmail like that is no easy deed. Also, I believe that’s his wife standing by the pizza booth.
#4 The Falkirk Failures
Not one of these mongrels is a day over 16. This is like a kitchen version of GWAR gone horribly wrong. Let’s start from left to right: Fatty has committed the ultimate metal transgression by wearing his New Balance cross-trainers. If he had any imagination, he would’ve covered them with foil. His microwaveable dinner-on-the-end-of-a-stick-axe is worse than anything we’ve seen from Immortal. The next kid appears to be holding up some sort of shoddy tomahawk, or a ham sandwich. Tin man in the back is not having fun, because he is a heartless son of a bitch. Cowboy appears to be relatively normal, which means he must be the leader. Unlike the jackass from #6, the kid in the gimp mask really is a gimp. Who else would drop to their knees like that on command? Next is your requisite midget, and behind him is the Brazilian immigrant who either wandered into the picture or was too self-conscious to dress up in foil. Lastly, is Rob Roy on his cell phone?
#3 Conan and The Destroyers
OK, so I caught a glimpse of Conan standing by himself and knew what I needed to do. Moments later, I saw him bludgeoning his friends with a Beck’s blow-up guitar, as there were no camels available to punch. Just before a full-fledged brawl broke out, I asked for a photo. What I received is the little piece of awesomeness you see before you. Think for a moment, what would prompt a man to wear nothing but a ripped pair of daisy dukes, a spiked armband, and boots? Yes, metal. He sort of looks like a younger, bulkier Bruce Dickinson with two beers in his left hand. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was naked behind that guitar. Their sad friend to the left just couldn’t get his guitar blown up fast enough. You snooze you lose, fucko!! And who’s the seven-foot giant back there? Conan is sloshed and will totally kick his ass. Finally, please take note of the empty Beck’s beer holders on the ground. Could this crew be trashier?
Oh dear. Last time I checked, the devil had only two horns, ya fuckin homo!! What are you, deaf?? How about those pants? What band other than Moonspell could’ve lured this poor soul down from his mother’s attic? I didn’t know whether to squeeze his pudgy little cheeks or plunge my Wacken pen into his throat. The ruffles, the hat, the flowing facial hair Â it’s all out-of-control gay. No, fuck that, the very epitome of unhinged, blazing gayness! That costume must’ve cost him hundreds of euros, and here he is, soiling it in muddy cow country. This shit is really getting difficult to bear.
To hell with Michael Flatley, Abbath is Lord of the Dance!!! Did you really expect anybody else? He’s older, and fatter, and just as ridiculous as ever. Perhaps the pose is his homage to Shiva, only now it’s Abbath the Cosmic Dancer! I kept staring at the picture waiting for him to do a jumpkick. By the look on his face, he’s clearly pulled a hamstring but doesn’t want anyone to know. Posturing aside, the spandex is there, the corpsepaint is intact, but those shin guards need some serious work. Hell, those are more like kneepads. Disappointing. I’m convinced Immortal only have a “comeback” show when they need the kind of cash that can bring them the shin guards of old. Hopefully we’ll have an Abbath/Horgh photo session in the near future. Until then, I think I’ll hang myself.