My MANOWAR Internship

7068
200
Share:

A tale of POWER and STEEL.

In January of last year MANOWAR announced internship openings for their new Copyright Infringement Detection Division. On January 1st 2016, after 12 months of a grueling interview schedules and other tournaments, they released their final list of worthy candidates. 50 poser slayers and true metal believers. 50 of the most rag-tag, ruthless, leather clad warriors, and yours truly was on that list. My hair was long enough, my poser hate was strong enough, my steel melee weapon was sharp enough and most importantly my baby oil knowledge was broad enough. I was a shoo-in from day one, but I had to prove myself to these Metal Kings. This account is simply the first passage in a series of trials depicting how I have become known as the most infamous MANOWAR employee of all time.

The application process started at the beginning of 2015 with the recording of my falsetto scream and taking a full body picture for immediate judgment. I submitted my entry, and one month later I received a scroll by way of messenger owl telling me to arrive at MANOWAR’s Great Hall Headquarters in New York the morning of February 17th, the 28th anniversary of Fighting The World. I was overjoyed. I gathered my leather armour, leaped upon my horse of steel and headed to New York with great haste.

Upon my arrival to MANOWAR’s Great Hall, I was greeted by two burly men in loincloths with shaved and oiled chests. The larger of the two pointed to a welcome desk in the lobby where an even bigger man was signing in all applicants. There were only a few ahead of me, but more were piling in at an alarming rate. I immediately started weeding out my opponents, those that were worthy and those that were posers. After signing in we gathered in front of a stage. 300 denim and leather clad warriors in all. The lights went dark. A fiery explosion introduced MANOWAR onto the stage. “MANOWAR MANOWAR LIVING ON THE ROAD!” blasted through the speakers. I noticed a few people bleeding from their ears. I soon realized that this was the first test. Only True Metal Warriors can withstand the Power of MANOWAR. Bouncers were walking through the crowd pointing out the ear bleeding posers and escorting them out of the hall. Luckily my Metal training had prepared me for this day, and I moved closer to the stage. Next on the set was “Black Wind Fire And STEEL.” I shouted along, “FULL MOON’S LIGHT IS CALLING ME, MY KINGDOM LIES WITHIN.” Around me, I noticed only half of the crowd was singing along. These posers didn’t know MANOWAR lyrics. By ODIN’s beard, what was going on?!?! There was no way these posers could call themselves warriors. It was apparent that I was not the only one who believed this. A second wave of bouncers came through the crowd and led all non-singers out of the HALL. I had passed the second test. As the final “BORN OF BLACK WIND FIRE AND STEEL” was sung, MANOWAR left the stage. The lights came up, and there were only 200 of us left from the initial crowd. We looked at each other; nods of respect were shared. The screen behind the stage gave us our next instruction. It read “RETURN MARCH 6TH”.

We were guided out of the hall, through a different exit than the wimps and posers, and into a smaller room. After waiting a few minutes JOEY DEMAIO, leather clad and skin glistening, entered the room. “A date was shown to you, my METAL BROTHERS, who can tell me the significance of it?” he asked.

Before I could answer someone from the back shouted, “European Day of The Righteous.”

FALSE, LEAVE THE HALL,” shouted Joey. The poser left the hall, and we never saw him again.

“It is your birthday, sir,” I said with great confidence.

“Yes, warrior, it is my birthday, and also your next test of worthiness. You will return home for now and await further instruction. HAIL!” With that, JOEY DEMAIO left.

We stood in silence. Not a word was uttered. Then something rose within me, for I could not keep it contained.  I started to chant, “manowar, Manowar, ManOwaR, MANOWAR! MANOWAR! MANOWAR!” Soon the whole room was chanting along. The room started to vibrate, and as we left our shouts reverberated throughout the complex.

In the parking lot, we all bade each other farewell, leapt back upon our horses of steel and rode away into the sunset.

Did you dig this? Take a second to support Toilet ov Hell on Patreon!
Become a patron at Patreon!