the green day story

The Green Day story is an evolving short story comprised of over 400 unique band and artist names. I’ve supplied links to official band sites or Myspace pages where I could, or to fan sites and Wikipedia pages if that is all I could find. Some of the links are definitely dead now.

Anyway, without further ado…

One Green Day

Once upon a green day during a mad season there were 4 non-blondes: Jane, Alice, Björk and Siouxsie. These funk junkies were tragically hip. They loved to be violent femmes and to rage against the machine.

The girls had a simple plan to have some fun. They rented one of the old B-52‘s from the Trust Company. It was outfitted with the new American Hi-Fi system which really cranks out the mighty mighty bosstones (and sounds so much better than the old Rockers Hi-Fi system). Then, they hired some stone temple pilots to take them on a journey to the notorious sound garden just outside of the ancient land of Elastica.

In no rush to get their destination the gang of four asked their pilots, the Thomspon Twins, Benjamin and Fred, to take them shopping first.

“The Metallica armored mall in Old Boston is a popular spot and it’s on the way.” offered Benjamin.

Coolio,” said Alice. She liked Ben’s fatboy slim physique and his shaggy hair. “You’re a prince,” she said.

Alice’s beauty had been breaking Benjamin‘s concentration since he met her. She reminded him of an Osaka Pop Star. “You’re the queen,” he replied. Then he felt embarrassed. “In fact, you’re all queens of the stone age. Don’t you think, Fred?”

Right,” said Fred. “A bunch of beautiful bouncing souls you are.” The girls laughed.

They landed at Voxtrot airport next to mall.

OK go shopping, girls,” Benjamin told them. “We’ll pick up some fuel and meet you at Jimmie’s Chicken Shack.”

“Uh uh, Jimmy eat world!” refused Björk in an obvious state of fear.

“Excuse our friend,” said Jane. “She dated a crazy box car racer named Jimmy. He and his brothers were angry Samoans and apparently fine young cannibals.”

“He had bad brains,” said Bjork quietly, “and he’s dead to me now. I always was a monster magnet.” With concern, the other girls watched her muse. They knew she was an outcast and had suicidal tendencies.

Smile, empty soul,” Alice told her.

Jane continued. “Jimmy was public enemy number one for an entire burn seasonThe police picked him up on a warrant, and he now enjoys a nice soft cell in Mudvayne penitentiary.”

“Reminds me of my chemical romance,” Siouxsie piped in. “He’s in rehab now, suffering from the binges but we used to have fun at the drive-in“. She sighed, “Oh well, I knew it wouldn’t ever last.””

Benjamin found he couldn’t say anythingFred jumped in. “Uh, there’s a pub called Dropkick Murphy’s. It’s between the Culture Club and The Artificial Joy Club. There’s a black flag out front, can’t miss it.”

Sweet,” said Jane, “let’s jet, gang.”

* * *

On level 42 of the mall they found an edgy clothing store called Static X. They marveled at the psychedelic fursthe cardigans in every living color of the rainbow, and the elegant cocktail slippers. Jane put on a pink foghat. “What do you think?” she asked.

Alice considered. “Well, I like the purple hearts,” she said, “but you can see the clash between them and your eyes. Those evans blue eyes.” She smiled.

Jane took off the hat. “Yeah, well it’s stained anyway.”

Next door was an adult shop called the Incubus. “Well, not your average smut peddlers,” noted Jane lifting a bottle labeled Midnight Oil and another Orgy Juice.

“Nice names,” laughed Siouxsie as she eyed the sex pistols and various armageddon dildos being displayed, “GoldfingerFinger ElevenKing MissileEvil Nine, and oh my favorite, Snoop Dogg.”

Next they visited a weapons shop named Guns & Roses. An armored saint stood right outside the doors to usher folks in and out. Inside, among the smell of bullets and octane, they found rare items like a molly hatchet, an iron maiden, and a beautiful velvet revolver.

“Geez,” said Siouxsie, “these L.A. guns are really overpriced.”

Hell yeah,” agreed Björk, “I can barely afford those shiny toy guns, but this slip knot is only going for a fifty cent piece.”

Plus forty-four credits for the rope itself,” said Alice noting the unseen second price tag.

Jane added “And look at all the kinks in it. We need to be more pennywise, girls. It’s not like we’re some rich riverboat gamblers.”

* * *

“We’re in dire straits here, I’m afraid.” said Fred. “The Iron Butterfly is grounded.”

“We blew the hyper seal on the Lacuna coil,” Benjamin explained to the girls angrily with his head submersed in the bowels of their rented craft. “If I had a Tesla replacement, we’d be ok but I can’t run DMC pulses through the tubes now. It’ll hinder the flow from the alkaline trio cells.”

Fred said, “Sorry, ladies, he’s a pure motorheadBen folds five times the mechanical knowledge in his pailhead than any of those hybrid propellerheads have in their simple minds.”

“And Fred‘s fluent in bionic jive,” said Benjamin. Then to himself, “Damn gravity kills, man. The crossfade is all out of whack on the Powerman 5000 unit. And it looks like the AC/DC switch on the EMF unit is fried. In, fact all the used parts we bought from Fugazi are toast. The replacements are gonna take at least a day to arrive.”

“What he’s saying is without a thousand foot crutch we’ll sink like a lead zeppelin before we got a mile. I can call Starsailor and see if they can send out a Space Hog.”

30 seconds to Mars!,” blurted Björk, repeating the company’s slogan.

Alice said, “I’d rather rent a Chevelle or some Silversun pickups, but we’re damn near broke now.”

Fred was about to suggest they take a train when Benjamin said, “Brother, by default we at least owe them a ride. Call a deathcab for cutie.” He winked at Alice. “Our treat.”

“Thanks, big bad voodoo daddy,” said Alice grinning.

* * *

“Well I’ll be a daft punk,” said the cab driver. “Don’t I know you two damn yankees? You’re the brothers from Snow Patrol, right? They used to call you the Hawaii Mud Bombers. Last I heard you were flying for the Postal Service.”

“That was ten years ago. We’re strictly commercial now,” said Fred. “It’s a dark new day.”

“I heard that. I’m Harvey Danger from the FlyLeaf Astrocab Company, license number CKYMNMDMX at your service.”

What an airheard, thought Benjamin. He said, “Your fare are these fun lovin’ criminals. They’d like to avoid Republica agents, so if you could focus on remaining visible from space only… ”

Harvey nodded knowingly, “That’s cool. And the gang can climb aboard.” Harvey pressed talk-talk on his radio mike while the girls boarded. “Local H,” said the cabbie, “this is agent Orange. Going offline with a code Seven Mary Three.”

A voice blared from the radio, “This is Eve 6! Listen fall out boy, you have authority zero for a code–”

Harvey cut in, “Fine call it a Blink 182 if you want, sugar. Or a simple code seven, whatever…” He switched off the radio. “It’s all about Eve,” he muttered to himself.

Benjamin added, “And no effects that aren’t necessary, trick daddy.”

“Full effect killswitch, engage. Check,” said Harvey. “Well, that’s still a whopping sum: forty-one thousand credits.” Fred handed him a wad of new edition credits, which Harvey counted quickly. “Hmmm, there’s a lot of dead kennedys here, but where’re the benjaminsYou be forty large short.”

“We’re with Silver Tide Transport now,” explained Fred. “Suppose you give us three days grace.”

“Sure,” replied Harvey, “but it’s an unwritten law that it’ll be P.O.D, you dig?” Meaning payable on death. “Method Man runs the company now, and the mercy killers under his employ ain’t got no mercy. It’s a bad company to owe money to, man. Don’t want to end up dead, boys.”

“You aren’t looking at new kids on the block, Harvey. We’ve played the game before.” said Benjamin. “It’s no minor threat, I get that.. But right now, in this moment, I just want the girls to go have a day to remember.”

“Hey, you’ve got this badly drawn boy worked up into a fine frenzy,” said Harvey. “Don’t worry, I know a great orbital backstreet, boys.”

* * *

In the garden, they visited Qkumba Zoo because Siouxsie wanted to see the new deaf leopard. “It may be deaf but there isn’t a faster pussycat alive. And I hear it’s a pretty kitty.”

Among the animals on display were oddities like a white snake, some stray catsa flock of seagulls, an exhibit of pixies, a great white Steppen Wolf, and a large papa roach with what looked like a zebra head. There was even an alien ant farm. The girls checked out the eaglesthe turtles, and the monkeys swinging on the vines in their cage; but went right past the gorillas because of the swollen members they were sporting.

“Oh no, look at the black crows,” said Siouxie excitedly. “They’re trapped in the scorpions cage!”

“It’s OK, they are immune to the venom,” explained Jane. “Although the poison of that Oleander shrub they’re eating will kill them.”

* * *

From the zoo they moved on to Linkin Park and enjoyed themselves by smashing pumpkins against the Jesus & Mary Chain statues and defacing the mural of Toad the Wet Sprocket.

Jane wandered off by the Marcy Playground and came across some natives in a hole having a feast. She hid behind a bush and watched. “Oingo boingo! What a sublime spread,” she said. From her dog’s eye view she could see cranberrieselectric prunesvirgin prunescorn, warm soup dragons, some angry saladmeat loaf and lamb of Godsponge cakepearl jam on crackerblack-eyed peas, some limp biscuits, and a huge blind melon. There were also lemonheads and sugarcubes from the Matthew Sweet candy factory. But the best part of all were the red hot chili peppers, which was Jane’s addiction. She loved to eat those in excess. In fact, she liked everything she saw but the soda because pop will eat itself.

Iggy pop,” said Jane in disgust.

Love spit love,” greeted one of the village people as he came up behind her.

Jane stood. “Love in reverse,” she greeted in return.

“We are a tribe called Quest and this is our block party,” informed the native. “I am Hootie, and the blowfish is delightful today, especially with a little veruca salt and some April wine. It is hand-prepared by our spice girls.”

“Oh, nada surf for me thanks. Fish gives me the hives,” Jane explained.

“Another fine choice is the toadies in green jelly sauce. It is the favorite of the Wolfmother and is loaded with vitamin C. But I suggest washing that down with some Everclear and tonic.” He turned and threw several sticks at a rare Sheryl crow which was flying around the food.

Jane was tempted but then recalled the string cheese incident back in blue October; the megadeath it brought to the dwarves of the town L7, and the widespread panic that affected the entire planet of Jurassic 5 . “I think I’ll just have a Fiona apple and some ice tea. That is if you are willing to share.”

“Of course, it’s all you can eat,” replied Hootie. “Then perhaps you will join me for some vanilla ice cream topped with a Buck cherry.”

* * *

Jane joined the other indigo girls near the statue of Our Lady Peace where they were gathered around a pile of garbage.

“Oh, hoobastank,” she exclaimed, for the smell was rancid. Then she saw it. Among many broken jars of clay in a large puddle of mud, an ugly adult rat sat upon a candlebox. It was covered in ash and wore an old air filter as a helmet. It appeared to be counting crows that stood around him in a perfect circle. “What an enigma,” said Siouxsie.

Suddenly, across the oasisten thousand maniacs came charging out of the Forest of Screaming Trees and down Cypress Hill. “Look! butthole surfers!,” exclaimed Björk.

Jane frowned. “I don’t think so. They may be giants.”

“Holy Schleprock!” cried Siouxsie. “They’re the presidents of the United States of America!” And promptly screamed.

The who?” said Björk with fear in her voice.

“Oh Primus,” barked Alice, “will you all shut up? They’re those idiotic lost prophets from the Church of New Order“.

Jane’s stomach tightened, “Dear Godsmack. I hear that’s a really bad religion.”

“Yeah, that motley crew is seriously disturbed. Stay sharp, they have many methods of mayhem.”

The parade of losers approached bearing torches, stone roses, and gin blossoms. They all had large misshaped talking heads.

Love equals death, ” greeted the one with the most massive head.

Love and rockets,” answered Alice.

The leader continued, “My name is Todd Smith and I am the Godhead, or high priest, at the Temple of the Dog.” A sonic youth came to his side. “And this is my prodigy son, Rem. That’s spelled R-e-m. But lately I’ve been calling him Dinosaur Jr.

“The kid rocks!” shouted the other men in synch.

The girls just stared at the Smiths, so Todd continued, “We and these other magnificent bastards have come from White Town, far beyond Ned’s Atomic Dustbinstabbing westward in search of the cure for our madness.”

Good Charlotte, you crossed that biohazard? What, are you third eye blind or something?” asked Alice.

“We have sought the legendary magic dirt since the days of the new,” replied Todd. “The powers of this special soil are said to end Soul Coughing disease. But, alas, the mission has been a failure. We found nothing but seven dust factories run by the Chemical brothers. Those circle jerks are out there using the crystal method to crank out anthrax. We barely survived the sense field that protects their largest plant in the land of Darlahood.”

“Didn’t your senses fail?” asked Siouxsie.

“Indeed, and social distortion transmitters affected each of us with eighteen visions.”

“Sir, I don’t think we can help you. If you am I, I would try the spin doctors,” Jane advised Todd.

“What is your name, my lucious Jackson?”

“The name’s Jane, Jane Jensen.”

“Well, Jane,” said Todd, “I’d like you to meet the head of my drill teamGeggy Tah.” Todd made a hand gesture and an ugly white zombie dressed in a deep purple gown with white stripes stepped forward. He carried the sacred tool of a ditch croaker.

Marry me, Jane,” moaned Geggy. Jane grimaced.

Todd smiled. “Geggy’s one of the gym class heroes from my high school. Oh and he’s type O negative; quite rare.”

You too?” Siouxsie asked Geggy.

Yes.” replied Geggy, a gob of saliva stuck to his fu manchu mustache. “Jane, may I have a kiss?”

Jane yelled, “What is this a sick joke?! I wouldn’t kiss this regurgitator if I were pumped with morphine, let alone marry him! Besides, he’s too short.”

Aha! Perhaps it’s a killing joke, my little jewel!”, interrupted Todd. “Listen up, for this is a material issue! I claim you meat puppets as the property of the ministry! You will serve as our gigolo aunts and provide ecstasy and porno for pyros. You will also be the breeders for the collective soul!”

Soul asylum more like it,” snapped Alice. “I can just imagine the offspring: some serious beastie boysno doubt.” The girls laughed. “I’m afraid you got the wrong goo goo dollsmister mister. Ain’t no way we’re gonna be your bare naked ladies. Now buzz off, ya weezer.” The leader glared at her and removed the Rollins band from around his huge head, causing the wallflowers that had been tucked there to fall to the ground. This was obviously a signal for instantly two members of the cult, oddly dressed like crash test dummies,  advanced and in seconds had Alice in chains.

“This one will become a concrete blonde and sleep on pavement.” said the leader as he came face to face. “In fact, you shall be my personal audio slave and you will know nirvana.”

“Yeah, and the dead can dance, pal,” she replied struggling in her confines.

“Only the grateful dead, my dear. Care to meet them?”

Enough is enough!!” shrieked Siouxsie, snapping out of depeche mode and jumping into urge overkill. In a blur, she grabbed a torch and lit the godflesh of Todd’s face on fire. Quickly, she pulled a fishbone from her hair and gouged the leader’s flaming lips.

Beck-k-k!”, sputtered Todd. “That was a cheap trick, you twisted sister! How dare you rise against–” he paused to put out his face fire, “–against me! This act shall be avenged sevenfold!”

“Oh yeah? Take that, Radiohead,” screamed Jane, raking his eyes with their nine inch nails.

“Woo hoo! Girls against boys!” cried Björk. “What should I do?”

“Just strike anywhere!” yelled Alice.

Adrenaline pumping through her veins, Björk planted a foot in the face of one of Alice’s captors. “I smash mouth!”

Jane poked an eye of the other captor with her bad finger. “Wham! That’s gonna sting.”

Big head Todd and the monsters, fearful of such strong foo fighters, made a mass exodus as they shed tears for fears.

* * *

Duran! Duran! We’re ‘live,” cried Björk, slurring from all the excitement.

Yes, they ran and we’re a-live,” corrected Jane. “I have faith; no more will they bother us. Triumph is ours.”

Alice, now free from her chains, jumped up on an old silver chair. “I’ll never be a black-eyed blonde!”

“Jane’s no blondie,” said Björk, “she wants revenge.”

Jane said, “That was extreme. Siouxsie saves the day!”

“Yeah, we’re not just an army of anyone,” said Alice. “From now on we’ll be known as Siouxsie and the Banshees!”

“Well, that’s better than ‘Ezra’,” said Siouxsie. The others laughed awkwardly.

“Hey, that was no little feat! It’s the story of the year!” exclaimed Jane. “I just wish we had some big audio dynamite so we could’ve blown that sprung monkey and his crew to smithereens!”

She glanced at her watch, “Heck, it’s only 3:11, it hasn’t even started dropping daylight yet. Let’s head into town and pick up some cowboy junkies.”

Full of new found glory, the girls pranced off like members of a teenage fan club as the now visible Mazzy Star rose just above the vertical horizon; completely unaware of the MC nine-hundred foot Jesus watching over them.

The End

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