Generally it's no fun making fun of metal bands, like it's no fun to make fun of the elderly or disabled. Metal bands honestly don't know better. In their small universe, leather jackets with big zippers, sleveless vests and untied sneakers are considered cool. In that land, Metalopia, big-haired women rain down from the heavens and the wind blows with the sound of double-pedaled bass drums. Also in that land, these four dorkwads are not douchebags, they are princes.
In reality these four dorkwads are douchebags and get their underwear pulled over their heads every day in fourth period. Their hair care products are regularly stolen from their lockers and filled with superglue. Also they trip over their laces.
Look at them. The New Kids On The Parking Lot, trekking across the asphalt jungle towards their mother's Honda Civic, maroon, decked out with a pentagram bumper sticker and a woofer bought from three weeks of a cashier's salary at Kroegers. Then they will head out to the drugstore and goose-foot around until Shawna is done with her shift at Dunkin Donuts, then go to the local teen darkwave club and stand in the dancefloor pretending there are cobwebs in their hair that they have to brush off and spiders on the floor they have to stomp on.
Then in the morning they go to school and get their underwear pulled over their heads again.
Possible film still for a movie titled:
1) Man Hands and Horse Crotch get Rutty in the Motel 6
2) Give my Unicorn a Horn
3) The Androgytwins in: Curse of the Vibrating Bed
4) My Boyfriend has Genital Horses, But I don't
5) Why the Long Face?