Chapter 1: A sad beginning...

Hello, and welcome the second exciting tale of two hideously unattractive social outcasts named Maven and Claven. Now, this is a fantastically pointless story of Maven and Claven's desperate search for a drummer for their new local thrash band called "The Growths". The story starts off in a grassy plain area just outside of D.C. (It doesn't really exist, but it does in the story...) So anyway, start reading.

"Ya know something, Maven?" Claven said sitting on the recently-soiled-by-a-dog grass in the grassy plain area.

"What's that, Claven?" Maven replied sitting on the recently-soiled-by-himself grass in the grassy plain area.

"I think we should start a band."

Maven stroked his chin pretending to actually think about it just to look smart.

"An interesting proposition," he said after about a half hour of stroking his chin.

"Yeah well I'm sorry if now ALL my ideas aren't as good as yours!" Claven was insulted at Maven's harsh words that were actually compliments.

"Whatever," Maven said. "I think we should be emo."

"Yeah and THEN what would we be called?" Claven asked doubtfully. "The whiners? We should be punk rock!"

"No way!" Maven quickly responded. "We'd be called the slap-happies!"

"Hmm..." Claven thought. "We need to compromise..."

"How 'bout thrash?" Maven suggested.

"Why that's a grand idea!" Claven began frolicking for joy.

"Please don't do that ever again..." Maven was taken aback by his gay reaction. "If we're gonna be thrash, what should our name be?"

"Well, it should probably be something about us... Something...unique."

Maven scratched his head. "Well I have this kind of growth thingy that comes out right where the shoulder meets the neck."

He lowered his collar revealing a lump right where he said it would be. It was pretty ugly, but Maven and Claven were both very ugly people.

"Are you serious?" Claven was surprised. "'Cause I have a growth, too! See?"

He took off his shoe and showed Maven what disgusting thing was on his left foot. A sixth toe...

"That settles it, then!" Maven said happily. "Our band name is 'The Growths'!"

"Hooray," Claven shouted.

He began to cackle wildly. But suddenly, he cackles broke into terrible sobs.

"What's wrong?" Maven shouted desperately trying to comfort his sorrowful friend.

"I just realized that," Claven gasped between sobs, "I play bass and you play guitar and do vocals, but we don't have a drummer!"

"Oh no, you're right!" Maven said as his face fell from sheer joy to utter sadness. He joined Claven in the cries of disappointment.

"Don't worry, buddy!" he said, tears streaming down his face. "We'll find a drummer with a growth! No matter what! Whatever the cause! The cause whatever! If it's the last thing we do! Or the first thing we do! It would actually be more convenient if it was the first thing we do! So! We are gonna find that drummer! If it's the first thing we do! Amen!"