Slayer_Performing_at_Mayhem_fest_2009

Don’t Do It For The Pussy: Tales From The Pit

BY GABE BORGHINO

The first time I saw Slayer was at the Hordern Pavilion on April 17th, 2007. I actually bought my ticket so I could see the support band, Mastodon, but figured as I’d already dropped a fair amount of money I’d go for the Don, stay for Slayer.

For those unfamiliar with this type of scene, it is filled with less than reputable individuals, and Slayer fans time and again prove to be the nonpareil of the bunch.

On my way to the venue, I saw a middle-aged mother chunder her recently chugged Jägermeister onto the Fox Studios carpark cement, and then, with a wail of remorse that I can only assume was a response to the lost opportunity to forget that she ever existed in the first place, got down on her knees and lapped it up while her brother/father (one person) cheered her on.

T’was 6 p.m.

PULLQUOTE_1

We arrived early for some drinks and pole position and after a few Hahn Premium Lite, (a snip at $12 each) Mastodon enter the building, beginning with the opening track on what was then their latest album, The Wolf Is Loose.

Carnage.

They were truly amazing. During their closer Megaladon, the crowd formed into a fast moving whirlpool of bodies, and I saw a shredded skinhead get trampled trying to force his way into it like a gigantic fat Nazi Salmon heading South for the winter.

It’s safe to say that when Slayer finally took the stage, the crowd was well and truly ‘riled up.’In a lull between songs, the crowd in front of me began to dissipate into a small open circle.

At the centre of that circle were two people; one of whom is our boy from before, the trampled Nazi Salmon; the other is a tiny but no less tenacious bogan woman sporting a super sexy mullet. The two of them were screaming at each other.

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“You fucken piece of fat fucken’ shit. Fuck you you fucken’ cunt motherfucker, get the fuck out of my fucking face.”

I overheard someone behind me explain to his friend that the tiny Tenacious B has tried to throw down with our fishy fascist friend in a pit and has come off less than second best.

The Salmon surveys her as she gives him a spray and begins opening and closing his fingers in a bird motion directly between her eyes.
“Keep fucken squawking you stupid fucken bitch, we’ll see how much you’ve got to say after…”

“DON’T YOU THREATEN ME YOU FUCKEN’ CUNT. I’LL GUT YOU AND YOUR FAMILY YOU FAGGOT MOTHERFUCKER!”

She pushes him (staunch as fuck) and he steps back, bristling like Monstro just before he fucks Gepetto’s shit up:

Monstro+Cel

You can see the tiny cogs turning as he decides what to do. He steps to her, and her to him. In a parallel universe, they’d probably be the perfect couple.

Without really realising it, I find myself standing between them. For a split second, I broken the trance they’ve fallen into from their weird redneck courting ritual.

Seizing the opportunity, I counsel the newlyweds.“Hey er, guys… like… Slayer ya know? You guys… er maybe wanna chill and sing about genocide and serial killers and stuff?

They stare at each other then at me and then back at each other.

“Do you know this cunt?”

“I don’t know this fucking cunt.”

“I don’t know any of you cunts.”

The tension is as thick as their collective problem solving skills and in the distance the opening drums of Slayer’s 1984 opus, Raining Blood , echoes over the crowd.

Immediately the girl disappears and Nazi Salmon looks down with at me, an intense glint of madness in his eyes as hears his favourite band play his favourite song.

“Don’t do it for the pussy, mate.”

“Uh, sorry?”

“You want it do ya, hey mate? You wanna grab it ey!? DO YA!? Mate, the pussy, don’t do it for it.”

We stare at each other, my blank gaze meeting his own. Slightly frustrated, he repeats himself, hoping to reaffirm his point.

“Look mate, I know she might be decent looking, and yeah, sure, I’d probably go for it too if she wasn’t such a dumb slut, but look, mate, seriously, don’t do it for the pussy.

Disconcerted, I explain (while thankful for his advise) that I wasn’t trying to separate him and TB because of “The Pussy”, but rather because I thought he was going to beat the living shit out of a woman half his size.

The opening riff thunders in, the lights flash a dangerous crimson and Nazi Salmon’s eye’s focus as he begins to laugh. A mirthless chuckle at first, then big deep anti-Semitic belly rolls while he clutches his gut with his left hand.

“Haaaa haghAaha mate!” he wipes away a tear “I wasn’t gonna hit her!?”

He’s laughing really hard now and he grabs my shoulder with his other hand for support. I look at it and realise it’s bleeding profusely.

I stumble and look back at him. He’s regained his composure slightly, and is staring me dead in the eyes, with a huge evil grin on his face.

“I’ve got aids.”

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