Meathead Summit Held to Determine Hardness of Nails Frontman After Twitter Tirade

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Chad Miller, CEO of Western Massachusetts gym “Cross Fight”, called an emergency summit yesterday to discuss with fellow Meatheads whether Todd Jones of Nails, looked like “The Wrong One To Fuck With” or a “pillow soft suck baby wuss” after his multi-week long smear campaign against Metal Sucks in response to a disparaging article they published about him in 2016. 

The meeting was held at an undisclosed Buffalo Wild Wings chain restaurant location with a dozen other equally loud and proud angry white males in between the ages of 17 and 48. 

“I’ve gathered you all here today to see if we can answer the question on everyone’s minds,” Miller opened, addressing the table of blank stares and agape mouths. “Is Todd Jones being a stone cold mother fucker right now or just a lil’ bitch boy?”

As is tradition, the attendants responded by loudly knocking their knuckles against the table in affirmation of the severity of this discussion, but also to interrupt everyone else’s meal and assure that all attention was drawn to them.

“I, for someone, have nothing but respect to Jones for what he has doing” insisted LordGoatRape999 in a heavy Dutch accent as he snapped a blurry under-chin look-down selfie while wearing sunglasses indoors. “Fake News Metal Sucks has been silenced bands and falsely accusing artist for too long. It’s about time someone stood and said things.”

LordGoatRape999 is notably part of an expansive community of metal artists and fans that dedicate hours a day to rebuking Metal Sucks and have been for years. Lord was not pressed for evidence regarding his assertion that MS was “lying” when they simply report accusations as would any news outlet.

“Quite frankly I don’t give a fuck what this Swiss fa–ot over here thinks,” chimed in Thad Kingston, wearing an Atilla hoodie to keep warm but then also gym shorts. “Todd’s crybabying is gonna go on about as long as his fucking period lasts and then he’ll go right back to writing emo pop punk again.”

The two then exchanged heated words, sparking an uproar among the meatheads until Miller banged his Bud Light gavel to restore order. Lord and Kingston asserted to “taking things outside”, but opted to silently threaten each other on Twitter for the remainder of the summit and then month instead.

“UNGA BUNGA, CROGNAR LOVE NAILS!” exclaimed Crognar, last known living Neanderthal, as he smeared wing sauce on his “Defend Death Metal” t-shirt. “CROGNAR LISTEN NAILS EVERY DAY, CROWD KILL EVERY SHOW.”

“I get what you boys are saying, and props to Todd for making some lying skank’s unrelated accusation all about him and his actual problems,” interjected Joe Lewandowski, former Marine and power lifter; whose golf shirt did little to contain his jutting muscle nipples, ”but I think what makes a real man is someone who can — you know — someone who can ignore the noise, someone who can say ‘fuck the haters’, you know?”

Crognar began screaming and thrashing wildly, chucking a full basket of Asian Zing flavored nuggets indiscriminately and remained inconsolable until convinced no haters were present.

“I think you gentlemen are forgetting about a little document known as — oh I don’t know — the FIRST AMENDMENT?” commented MAGA hat donning Samuel Adams O’Donnell, whose mother named him after the beer, not the founding father. “Todd Jones is within his god-given constitutional right to say what he wants, when he wants, where he wants and in doing so, should be free from consequence or rebuttal. It’s called AMERICA.”

“Actually this is all quite simple”, Martin Gammington, pasty-white, middle-aged, grey-toothed Englishman interjects. “These pillock twat minger wooly woodknockers from the Blast Beat Network are accepting quid from these bands to advertise and see it proper to be taking the piss out of the lot anyhow when they does wrong. So much for integrity, eh? The cheeky shite bellend telly tin tuckers. Sod off.”

“Who invited this ape?” Crognar replied.

A thick vape cloud fell over the proceedings as the trilby-headed Richard Dick, a heavy set man wearing a Philadelphia Eagles jersey (even though he’s from like… Arizona?) stood with the assistance of his pewter dragon cane. He presented the group with a handful of stapled packets to pass around.

“Here I have the article in question, written by Axl Rosenberg; so we may gain proper perspective at just how unfairly this Globalist propaganda platform has acted in their treatment of the esteemed Mr. Jones. You will find that the front man’s reaction is more than appropriate given the context.”

A silence hung over the restaurant as the eligible meatheads stared at the papers handed to them. This continued on for 17 minutes until one tried to sound out the first letters of the first words out loud.

The present committee then unanimously voted to take what they deemed the appropriate period for a typical meathead to read over and comprehend the Metal Sucks article: three entire years. The summit would then reconvene at that date.

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