PUSSY-FOOTING IN THE HEART OF THE BEST
Yanking the Ted Nugent LP off the specially-designed backwards-playing turntable, I hurled it on the corner with the others. No satanic messages on that one either. Not that I really expected to find any, of course—two years of this and all I've ever gotten were headaches and bad dreams of Neanderthals coming up to me saying "NEVAEH 07 YAWRIATS EHT GNIYUB SEHS DNA!" and "NAM NORI MA I!" Still, the Committee of Responsible Elders Enforcing Morality (C.R.E.E.M:) was paying me big bucks to help root out evil in rock music, so I couldn't complain (someone's gotta pay my Mr. Pibb tab).
IRON MAIDEN
PUSSY-FOOTING IN THE HEART OF THE BEST
by
John Neilson
"GNATNOOP TEEWS GAND GNAW!"
"GNATNOOP TEEWS GNAD GNAW!"
It was enough to drive me crazy. My job, that is...
"GNATNOOP TEEWS GNAD GNAW!"
Yanking the Ted Nugent LP off the specially-designed backwards-playing turntable, I hurled it on the corner with the others. No satanic messages on that one either. Not that I really expected to find any, of course—two years of this and all I've ever gotten were headaches and bad dreams of Neanderthals coming up to me saying "NEVAEH 07 YAWRIATS EHT GNIYUB SEHS DNA!" and "NAM NORI MA I!" Still, the Committee of Responsible Elders Enforcing Morality (C.R.E.E.M:) was paying me big bucks to help root out evil in rock music, so I couldn't complain (someone's gotta pay my Mr. Pibb tab).
A soft knock at my door drew me back to the present, and a gloved messenger thrust a package into my hand from the shadow of my doorway. Ripping open the wrapping, I found a neatly typed note:
"Good day, Mr. Neilson:," it read.