metal goes to see his cousin, punk. they used to be good friends back in kindergarten, when punk and metal bands were making an impact over pop music and becoming the two greatest (imo stfu) genres together. but over middle school they distanced, metal moved to sub genres of death metal, black metal and was looked upon by the mainstream as evil, angry, goat-sacrificing people; punk was classified as rebels and outlaws, then soon diluted by pop punk, pitied upon by metal bands. the pop punk era covered up the true punk livelyhood and feeling of anger and social alienation, while hate and vibe of metal concerts printed the idea of bikers and tattooed beasts.

metal knocks on the door of the house punk stayed in. a short haired guy opens the door wearing a tie dye shirt and ripped skinny jeans. "can i help you, sir?" the guy says. metal realizes this isn't punk. punk wouldn't say this to his cousin. he expected at least a spit, or moshing behind this guy. "where's punk?" metal yells. "i... i'm punk..." stutters the hippie. "YOU'RE A POP PUNK PIECE OF SHIT, THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE!!!" growls metal.

the now terrified kid points to a sewer man hole. metal runs over and wrenches it open. he hops in and hears beating heavy drums, off tune , fast guitar and heavy angry riffs. punk? or was this, metal? they were so similar.

and there he was, yelling his guts out on stage, punk. the audience: skate punk, horror punk, hardcore and others headbanging along. "PUNK!" yells metal.
the crowd goes quiet. punk turned his head, scratching his off buzz cut. "cous?" he replies. he jumps off the stage and hugs his cousin. they both experience a warm feeling, either punk was pissing on him, or their genres were mixing, since they were so fucking similar.

they pulled apart, and punk spat on metal's black shoes. he scratched his head again, and metal grinned. the cousins grinned, both teeth yellow, uncleaned.

tell me if you want a part 2 or something with other genres