A boy, 20 years of age, wakes up at 10:30am after a night of songwriting. He is still a little drowsy, yet he is eager because he knows where he is going to be within the next hour. Realizing he had not properly put it away, he puts his prized Jackson KV1 in its case. He stares at its beauty before closing the case he showers, eats breakfast, then gets dressed. He is a metalhead, so it is no surprise to his roommates what he is wearing. Below the bullet belt, he wears his favorite pair of jeans, his high-top Nikeâ€™s his Uncle gave to him, and his denim jacket with band patches ranging from Accept to W.A.S.P. Under his denim armor he wears his favorite t-shirt: his beloved Megadeth t-shirt; "Rust In Peace" to be exact. He wears it with pride. Thrash is his true calling.
After putting on his armor, he grabs his car keys and goes outside to great his black Ford pickup truck. He steps in and tosses an empty pizza box and soda can in the back seat, to probably never be picked up again. He starts the engine and reaches down into the center consul and fishes his sea of CD's. He is looking for no particular album or band, just whatever he happens to pick up. If its metal, he is happy. His emerges from the ocean of music with a little album called "Powerslave
". He eagerly puts his favorite Iron Maiden
record in the CD player and backs out of the driveway. As he speeds away from his house, he cranks up the volume only to hear the opening of "Aces High
's song "502
" easily describes his driving habits:
"Driving fast makes me feel good. Speed of light trapped under my hood. Breaking laws "cause there's nothin' to loose."
He jumps on the on-ramp and immediately goes from 60 to 90 mph. The line "Gathering speed as we hed down the runway" escapes from "Aces High" as he does this and the boy chuckles at the fact that it sounded Bruce Dickinson is narrating his driving session.
He cruises along the freeway without a care in the world. Halfway through "Powerslave", it comes into view. "It" is his favorite place in the world. There is nowhere he would rather be. That place is a music store called The Pick and the Pickup. It is a decent size store, bigger than a Guitar Center, smaller than a Wal-Mart. The boy pulls into the parking lot and shuts off his car during the "Rime Of The Ancient Mariner".
He hops out and does his routine of locking the car twice. He wants his beloved music to be safe and sound. He walks through the front doors and is greeted by his buddy James, an employee, flashing the horns at him and smiling. "Whats up my brother?" - says James with a grin. The boy flashes the horns back at him. "I've been doing well, man. Just finished a song I've been working on last night," he says. James eyes go wide and he grabs the boys shoulder saying, "That's great to hear man! You gotta give me a day when your band is rehearsing. I want to hear what you guys have been working on!" "I definitely will dude", the boy says.
The two say their goodbyes. The boy turns his focus to what he came for. He knows exactly where it is. However, he wants to fiddle around with the various weapons gazing down on him from the "Berlin Wall Of Guitars", as he calls it. He picks a Jackson Kelly off the wall and plugs into one of the Peavey amps. He likes the sound he hears, but the shape doesn't feel right to him. He's always liked the explorer shape, but V's are his weapon of choice. Finally, he walks around the Mesa's and hooks a left at the Randall's, and he sees it.
His newborn child: the gold plate of EQ knobs, the black material, and the unmistakable white cursive lettering spelling out the sacred name: "Marshall". It's a Marshall JVM 410 stack. He wanted one since he was 15. He's been saving for it ever since. He now finally has the money to purchase it. He makes the final purchase and exits his heaven. He gets the help of an employee to lift it into his truck and he straps his new fragile baby down. He drives extra carefully home, taking side streets so he does not have to go on the freeway.
He pulls into his driveway at around 3:00 pm. After getting his new amp set up in his room, he flips the power and standby switches on and lets the sacred Marshall tubes heat up. He takes his KV1 out of the case. "Say hello to your new brother", he laughs as he holds the guitar up to the amp. He tunes the weapon, grabs one of his always lost Dunlop picks plugs in, and flips standby to "off". He cranks everything.
Volume is at the max. He pauses, soaking it all in, then rips an E chord. The sound hits him and he is in instant euphoria. Finally, he experiences a cranked Marshall. He shreds through "Holy Wars" and finishes his session on the closing solo of "Fade To Black". When turns off his amp, he can't believe it's already 10:00. "I've been playing for that long?" he thinks to himself. He lays his head down and says goodnight to his beloved instruments. He falls asleep, dreaming of what will happen next in Metal Paradise.