Ok, if any of you have ever been on "Youtube" and found trailers for "Rammstein the Movie", well that's the creation of my sister and myself. I'm the choreographer for those trailers and I was going to be the writer too, so here's what that movie would be if only we could either animate, draw reasonably well, found enough clips, or got incredibly lucky. By the way, Rammstein are copyright to the band members and so on and so forth. So here's the movie for you in several action-packed and humorous parts. Please note, this story is not made from fact.
In a firehouse a long way away, there were six men shuffling through life like they didn't care, or did they? Their clothes were smutty and their faces and skin were tarnished with grime and soot. The days in this almost invisible small town somewhere in Europe, not far from mountains but cut off from the rest of the world, were filled with boredom but solace. They sat within the only room above the garage, some sleeping and some pondering amidst the grot of the house, if it could only be called a house.
Already one of the six had attempted to join a monastery, done quite well, until one of his companions had come along and kidnapped him. But Flake did not let this bother him as he carefully read over a very technical magazine about keyboards, muttering a few German phrases of affection at some of the items within the catalogue at the back of the manuscript. At the desk to his left, the tallest and youngest of the band was busy fiddling with a few spare wires and guitar strings, trying to sort them in their drawer by means of colour, shape, and size. It was not the same as fiddling with his base guitar, but it was at least something to do that boring morning. At the table to their left, beside a small pair of counters and an oven, two others sat, pondering in boredom. One sat spooning a mass of grey slop that the other had attempted to cook for them all. It was only porridge, but he hungered for something more substantial. Beside him, Paul was blinking in wonderment at the picture on the wall, an item that "moved" slightly as you turned to look at it. Christoph turned his head after a puddle of mushy squiggles that looked like vomit dropped off his spoon; he looked at the two remaining members, sleeping like babies. One was close to the mirror, his favoured position, fast asleep and cuddling his teddy bear clone. Christoph could not guess what Richard was dreaming about; perhaps it was just himself again. Then he turned to the massive man beside Richard, who was snoring and twitching his nose in his sleep, slapping his jaws occasionally as he thought of something. But within seconds the giant man had sprung forward and was shaking his head and blinking his bleary eyes in confusion.
"That's it, no more local alcohol for you Till." Till muttered to himself and he turned to look at the empty bottle on the small ledge beside his head, confusion smothering his face. He had just awoken from a dream, where he was dressed in a black suit that made him look like an ATM machine, and some guy in a black robe, somewhat resembling the current Pope, had told him to get up. He could not really understand this, but reckoned it was probably linked with the film Flake had managed to gain from a loyal fan amongst the villagers, that did not believe the rumours. But Till was not really sure if he was a fan of the more recent Star Wars™ films. But gently he drifted back to sleep, gripping his large beaten-up cuddly-toy bunny rabbit, named Mr Smooches tightly, to his chest. There was peace once more amongst the Rammstein Firehouse.
That was until a large orb above the doorway began to flash red and swirl in circles around the frame of the door. This was accompanied by a loud whooping sound that was hard to identify from Till's snores. Suddenly the firehouse was not alive with the movement of the men inside. Instead there were some confused glances and even one or two random items cast at the light to shut it off. It aroused Till at least, after he muttered quite suddenly within his disturbed sleep,
"I don't want to go back in the basket, the dog keeps farting!" A gentle thwack on the nose from a ricocheting pen Ollie had thrown knocked him awake and with a thud he hit his head on a nearby shelf, only to slip back onto the bed with a groan. Finally Flake realised what the purpose of the alarm was for and he quickly gathered up the mess of pens and spanners and other random bits below the alarm, beside the exit pole. Christoph had frozen in place, spooning the slop and his mind was suddenly racing with excitement, though his face seemed filled with scorn. Finally he had a chance to fulfil one of his childhood job dreams. However the excitement had frozen him into place as Till gave Richard a prod in the chest and followed Ollie and Flake toward their uniforms. Paul was still blinking nervously at the strange light, but then he spotted what the others were doing and turned to look at the frozen Christoph with a grin on his cheeky face.
"To the Rammstein Mobil!" With that said Christoph was up in a flash and they were all scrabbling into their uniforms. As Ollie approached the pole he realised that he had no need to swing down it, being taller then the rest and skinny he could just hop off the side. Before doing so however, he quickly called over to his companions.
"Geck, dieser ist so ehrfürchtig!" Then with a smile he disappeared down the hole and was racing into the giant bright red fire-truck. The others paused and gave a few complaints that he was showing off and that any one of them could do such a thing. Therefore Flake attempted to out-do the long-limbed surfer and hopped down the hole too. However, he landed with a thud after letting out a long shriek of surprise, it seemed the drop was longer then they had all assumed.
At this Till snorted with indignation, but he turned his head to check what Richard was up to. The guitarist had only just gotten off his bed, removed the facemask, styled his hair with a small amount of gel, and was removing his mudpack. Till roared a few insults at him for being a slow little girl and Richard simply retorted about having a cold as he thumbed into his coat. Then Till leapt down after Flake, gave a groan as his knees collided with Flake as the man stood up, and he crushed him into a Flake-shaped hole in the concrete floor. Ollie honked the horn impatiently as the giant and the midget tried feebly to get up when they were still quite exhausted through boredom.
Christoph meanwhile had dawned the uniform and went slipping down the greasy old pole, which creaked in a very disconcerting manner. Unfortunately there was a very large foot-rest in the shape of Till on the bottom and Christoph stood on him. With a grunt Till squashed Flake again, and this time the neat drummer lost balance and smashed his back into the lumbar region of Till's spine, causing a low squealing shriek from the invisible Flake. This just proved to be a form of entertainment for Paul and he leapt down upon them, making each of them grown as he strolled calmly toward the truck with a giggle. Richard followed, but unfortunately Till and Christoph had managed to get themselves up, though Flake was crushed once more.
Finally the truck was on the road and helter-skeltering through town with Richard at the wheel. This was quite upsetting for Christoph, but Richard had an un-canny manner of convincing him it was for the interests of the band. Though Christoph did consider himself a better driver then the psycho they currently had at the wheel. Instead he sat with Paul between him and the driver, fiddling with the radio. They passed a few attractive young girls and there was an earth-shattering honk as Richard pressed down on the horn a few times. The girls did not look pleased, but there was now a grin on Richard's face. Whilst they drove on Ollie was attempting to read a map, folding it out but finding it was twice his size and then fiddling to fold it back up again. Flake was busy playing with one of his many Yo-Yo's and Till was watching this with the bored fascination that most cat's had.
There was a crackling sound as someone tried to commune with them through the speaker. There was also a bridge coming up, so as Christoph went to grasp the speaker, the fire-truck erupted into the air and covered a fair amount of ground. There were a few screams from on-lookers however that found the whole ordeal terrifying. But finally Christoph could receive the message from some man known as Legolas.
"They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!" At this, Christoph blinked a few times in confusion and tried to talk to the man again, but Paul just rolled his eyes in annoyance. He grasped the speaker from the drummer's hands and screamed at the man on the other end to push off. However, they had already arrived at their destination and were staring at a small house owned by a little old woman, who was weeping because her cats were stuck up in the large beech tree. This made the band member's groan in annoyance. They'd all been so ready for a fire.
It took them a while to consider what options they could take, as Ollie was not tall enough to reach the frightened felines for once. So they took out a ladder that was taller then the bassist and set it against the tree. Then they began an argument about who would grab the potentially dangerous animals. Richard began to complain that he was allergic to the beasts and would come up in red blotches. This sparked off an argument as Till began to complain it was only about his skin and beauty! Paul however had no fear of the cats; he had not experienced being attacked by one yet and swiftly padded up the ladder and grabbed the first animal to come into his reach.
It was Paul's scream that broke up the argument and the band looked up to see the waggling arms of the little man as a ginger tabby stuck its claws into and around his face. The screaming was becoming more and more muffled as Paul began to ingest cat fur, but the cat was screaming with him. Christoph gave a grown of annoyance and leapt into the lady's kitchen as Paul managed to fall off the ladder and race around the garden screaming for assistance. Swiftly Christoph returned from the kitchen with a frying pan in his clutches and he began to race around after Paul. He was begging him to stay still so he could knock the cat off with the frying pan, but there were some things in life that Paul was not willing to do.
Flake watched the cats up in the tree and smiled sweetly at them, he removed a thin tube from his side pocket and stuck it in his mouth. With a few twiddling motions of his thin little pianist fingers he began to play a string of whiny but yet sweet music. This was some random piece he'd made up to suit this flute, and it was all in an attempt to charm the cats from the tree. However, from a large wooden attachment beside the house stepped a very large and drool-smothered mastiff dog. It let out a loud bark that made every ban member, except Paul and Christoph, jump in fright. But it had set its sights on Flake and with some sudden movements of his weedy legs; the little man was running off in a circle. The dog immediately began to chase him with a low rumble of delight. This must have been a dream come true for the dog, a stick that could run by itself.
As Paul continued to galloped around the garden, screaming at Christoph sung at him a few times to remove the cat, a frightened looking old lady with short, curled, silvery-grey hair emerged in the doorway. She looked at them nervously with a tray of cups of yellow liquid within her ragged old hands. Deftly she placed them on a nearby bench and proclaimed them as lemonade for their services, but then her eyes caught Richard's dazzling complexion as he stood with a mirror in his hand. His frame was silhouetted in the midday sun and she was compelled to go other to him and compliment his good looks. This triggered off an entire lecture from Richard. In the meantime the dog still chased Flake around, but this time it had a skateboard tied to the end of its docked tail. With a couple of whoops as he skidded around the tree and his comrades, Ollie skated after Flake and yelled out a few comments about some man named Tony Hawks, Flake was probably the only one out of the group that knew what Ollie might be on about, but even he was trying to climb the tree now.
Till watched as the cat was finally ripped off Paul's face, but his eyes were concerned with the two remaining felines. He liked cats, and kittens, and puppies, and bunnies, and goldfish, so he did not like to see such animals in peril. Although he guessed the cats would probably wander out of the tree on their own accord, there was no danger in taking over the situation. So he quickly removed the napkin and fold-up knife and fork he always kept in his pockets. After putting on the napkin, staring at the cats with the cutlery raised at them, he licked his chops and proceeded toward the tree. The cats did not appreciate this, and with a few shrieks they leapt out and landed on Richard. Richard began running around in circles, whilst both Till and Christoph watched in embarrassment as he yelled about his "beautiful face". Paul turned his eyes to one side, staring up at the nearby mountains and the blue skies above them in deep thought.
"How did it happen like this?" Paul pondered.
(For the benefit of those that don't have the time to translate, "Geck, dieser ist so ehrfürchtig!" this means "Dude, this is so awesome!")