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by Scott Ian

Spielberg, Hanks, and DiCaprio, those three kind-of-but-not-as-famous-as Christina Aguilera stars, were there promoting their new movie, Catch Me If You Can.

  As a rule, I normally never approach anyone, but Spielberg and I had a mutual friend in Al, and I had to ask him about Anal Intruder. But I wasn’t going to just drop the Anal Intruder thing on him, because that’d be rude. I had to finesse this, so I came up with an icebreaker: Spielberg’s mother owned a restaurant right near my house in LA, and of course he’d want to talk about that, right?

  Spielberg was talking to DiCaprio, and when their conversation ended he was standing by himself. I walked over and introduced myself and told him I really liked his mom’s restaurant and that it’s right down the street from my house. At first he didn’t reply, looking past me, not paying any attention. I started to turn to walk away, I wasn’t going to push it, but then he looked at me and said, “Wait, what did you just say about my mother?” I repeated myself, and a big smile spread across his face, very excited and proud to talk about his mom’s restaurant. We had a nice conversation, and at some point he asked me what I was doing there. I explained that I was there with my lady and that she sang with Meat Loaf. He told me he was excited to see Meat perform and then asked me what I did. I told him I played in a heavy metal band called Anthrax. He told me he had heard of us, though he hadn’t actually heard our music, but he did know the name, and then he said to me

  STEVE: I know someone in a heavy metal band.

  ME: [playing dumb] Oh really?

  STEVE: Yes, Al Jourgensen from Ministry. Do you know him?

  ME: EE-Yeeeeeesss! [sounding like Frank Nelson from the Jack Benny show—Google it]

  STEVE: Oh great!

  And then Steve leans in a bit toward me and looks around the room like he’s about to tell a racist joke and says

  STEVE: Do you know he thought my A.I. movie was a porn called Anal Intruder?

  ME: [playing dumb again] No, you’re kidding! That’s hilarious!

  We were both laughing, and he told me to please say hello to Al for him and that next time I was at his mom’s restaurant to tell her that we met and to say hello to her as well.

  I walked off, thinking how the man who gave us E.T. and Schindler’s List had just said “Anal Intruder” and “say hello to my mom” in practically the same sentence.

  You’re welcome.

  BEWARE THE LESHY

  Once upon a time three friends named Scott, Whitfield, and Robert went on a snowboarding adventure to the greatest of all mountains, Whistleblack Mountain. The tallest, biggest, snowiest, and, some would even say, magicalest mountain in the world.

  Scott, Whitfield, and Robert were so excited to be together in this incredible place riding their snowboards and having an awesome time. They rode and rode and rode down every trail the mountain had to offer and then back up to the top on the gondola and then down again, racing each other and laughing all the while.

  The only thing missing from this perfect day was powder, that light and fluffy snow that made you feel like you were floating. But even without powder they were having fun and kept an eye out for that wonderful kind of snow.

  After an especially long ride the three friends decided to ride the gondola and take a break at the top of the mountain. It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky. The three friends each ordered a hot chocolate with whipped cream—yum!—to warm up their bellies, and they sat outside in the winter sun, drinking them and laughing about all the fun they were having.

  Hot chocolates finished, they were walking to where they left their boards when Scott noticed a sign a little ways down a path from where they were. The sign read: DANGER! OFF PISTE (which means snowboarding that is done on areas of snow that have not been specially prepared for riding on) BEYOND THIS POINT YOU RIDE AT YOUR OWN RISK! And below that in smaller, messier writing: BEWARE THE LE

  Scott said to Robert and Whitfield, “Hey guys, look at that sign. I know it says DANGER! But maybe there’s powder in the woods behind it?”

  “Yeah, maybe there is, but what do you think BEWARE THE LE means?” Whitfield asked. The three friends could see that LE was just the beginning of another word, but the rest of the word was covered with ice and snow. “Maybe it means there’s a ledge or something like a cliff?” Robert answered. They all agreed that’s probably what it meant.

  The three friends were very excited about the possibility of powder, so they strapped into their boards and rode over to the sign.

  The sign was old, very old—painted letters fading and the wood was cracked and it was hanging crookedly from a tall wooden post. It looked like it had been there for a really long time. Behind the sign was a deep, dark forest packed with the tallest trees that went on and on as far as their eyes could see. Whitfield was staring into the trees and exclaimed, “The snow looks really deep in there! I think it’s powder!”

  “It is!” cried Scott.

  “Yeahhhhh, let’s do it!” yelled Robert, and the three friends rode beyond the sign, Scott bumping it with his board as they passed.

  None of them noticed the ice and snow that fell from the sign revealing the rest of its warning:

  BEWARE THE LESHY

  Scott, Whitfield, and Robert were ecstatic. The snow in the forest was the lightest, fluffiest, deepest untouched powder any of them had ever encountered. They were flying through the trees, floating on the snowy air cushion the powder created for their boards. Never had any of them experienced such perfect conditions. The snow was so pristine that it was like no one had ever ridden in the forest before the three friends discovered it.

  Because no one had for a very long time.

  If the warning sign wasn’t enough to scare people off, the rumors and stories about people entering the forest to ride the perfect snow and never being seen again certainly kept people away. But these were all local legends, and Scott, Whitfield, and Robert were from far, far away. They didn’t know that the forest on Whistleblack Mountain was the domain of the Leshy, an evil forest fairy that can assume any likeness, shape-shifting into any form, animal or man, and it likes nothing more than tricking stray travelers into entering its forest—or worse.

  As soon as the three friends crossed behind the sign into the forest the Leshy, sleeping in its cave, awoke. It knew there were intruders because the trees whispered to him right away so as not to incur the wrath of the Leshy. There was a time when the trees would keep quiet if someone accidentally entered the forest, not wanting some poor soul to be tricked by the Leshy—or worse. But when the Leshy found out the trees were allowing strangers into the forest he told the trees in his deep rumbly voice, “Trees, this is my forest, and let it be not poisoned by those who do not belong within. I demand ye reveal to me the very moment the sanctity of my ground is fouled. If ye do not, I shall pull and twist your branches until they are broken off and burn your wood to warm my cave—or worse.” And so the trees listened. And they told.

  The Leshy was not happy about being woken up as it was enjoying its winter hibernation. It had been a very long time since someone had dared enter the forest. Most people obeyed the sign. But Scott, Whitfield, and Robert weren’t most people.

  They were heavy metal dudes.

  Scott played in a band called Anthrax, Whitfield in a band called Ugly Kid Joe, and Robert, well, he played in the biggest band in the land: Metallica. The three of them were always going on adventures all over the world. They were fearless warriors looking to have the most fun they could have, even if it meant sometimes bending a rule, like disobeying a warning sign. The three of them were riding all over through the trees, going as fast as they could, and at some point Scott and Whitfield became separated from Robert. This was okay though: they’d either see each other on the way down or would meet up when they got to the bottom.

  The Leshy left its cave and quickly found the trails that the three amigos were leaving behind in the deep, powdery snow. The Leshy shape-shifted into very long legs and big-clawed snowshoe size feet so h
e could move very easily and fast through the deep snow. It laughed at how easy they were making it to be tracked. They weren’t even trying to cover their tracks, almost like they didn’t even know it existed! The Leshy said to the trees, “Everyone knows of the Leshy and how I trick intruders in my forest by leading them astray—or worse. Right, my woody friends?” The trees quietly agreed. They didn’t want the Leshy to pull their branches off and burn them. But under the ground where all the tree roots in the forest touched each other a feeling was growing. A feeling that they didn’t want the Leshy to hurt the three humans who were only having fun and weren’t hurting anyone. The trees were tired of the tyrannical Leshy and were not going to take its orders anymore. It was the right thing to do. The trees talked from root to root that they would do whatever they could to help the three friends and stop the Leshy.

  And some of the trees even whispered, “Or worse.”

  About halfway down the mountain Scott and Whitfield snowboarded up to a giant rock among the trees. It was a boulder the size of a house right at the edge of a cliff. If you went the wrong way around the boulder, you’d fall all the way down to the bottom of the mountain. They decided to stop at the rock and take a break, as their legs were getting tired from riding in the deep snow. The two of them unstrapped from their boards and sat with their backs leaning against the rock, catching their breath. It was very quiet, the only sound the whispering of the wind through the trees. Scott and Whitfield weren’t worried about Robert: he was an awesome snowboarder and would find his way down. They should’ve been worried.

  They didn’t know what was following him.

  Scott and Whitfield strapped back into their snowboards and slowly made their way around the left side of the rock because as they were riding toward it earlier, they saw from above that this was the correct way; the left side was the way down through the forest and the right side was a cliff. They weren’t sure whether Robert would see it, so, using pine needles, they made an arrow in the snow pointing the correct way and wrote, “GO THIS WAY.” Satisfied that their friend would be okay, they rode around the rock, dropped back into the forest, and made their way down the mountain.

  The Leshy came out of the trees and headed for the rock. It knew the forest better than anyone and knew they would stop at the rock. The Leshy saw the message they had left and decided to play a trick. An Or Worse trick. It kicked snow over the pine-needle arrow that Scott and Whitfield had left for Robert and made a new arrow pointing the wrong way around the rock. The Leshy knew that when Robert came upon this he’d think his friends left the message and would follow it right over the cliff, falling to his death. The Leshy smiled and growled, proud of this evil deception, and then crept back into the trees to wait for the doomed trespasser.

  Robert came out of the trees from a different place from where Scott and Whitfield had come earlier. He hadn’t seen that the right side of the rock was a cliff. He rode up to the rock, unstrapped one foot from his snowboard, and saw the pine needle message in the snow. Ah, cool! Scott and Whitfield left me a note telling me which way to go, he thought. Robert decided to take a minute to catch his breath like the other guys did, unknowing of the malevolent red eyes watching him from the forest, waiting for him to fall.

  The trees knew this was the moment they needed to act. It was now or never.

  One tree drove its roots up from beneath the snow and started to push the snow that the Leshy used to cover the real pine needle arrow off of it. Another tree lowered a branch and started to brush away the deceptive arrow. Robert saw the tree branch moving next to him and looked down to see what was happening. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The tree branch had cleared away the Leshy’s fake arrow and was pointing at the real arrow. Robert saw the arrow pointing in the right direction and was very confused. How was this happening? he worried. He thought, Maybe it was the wind? That seemed more believable than tree branches moving on their own with a purpose. Then the tree branch started pushing Robert in the right direction.

  The Leshy saw all of this as well. Furious at the trees’ betrayal, the Leshy charged out of the forest toward Robert roaring in anger! “YOU HAVE TRESPASSED IN THE FOREST OF THE LESHY!” he bellowed. “NOW YE WILL PAY!”

  Robert beheld the Leshy, a giant man-like creature with what looked like buck’s horns growing from all over its body. It had a face that looked like dark skin stretched too tightly over a long-snouted skull, with a mossy black beard hanging from its chin. Its long-clawed fingers were reaching for Robert as the monster ran through the snow toward him screaming. Robert immediately started pushing away on his board as fast as he could, but the snow was too deep and his foot kept sinking. The Leshy was almost upon him, just about to grab him with its filthy claws when all of a sudden the ground exploded with tree roots shooting into the air between them, blocking the Leshy from his prey. “HOW DARE YOU CROSS ME, YE COWARDLY TIMBER? YOUR DISLOYALTY SHALL BE REWARDED!!!” The Leshy flailed at the roots encircling it, tearing at them and breaking them into pieces. But for every root it tore, another took its place. The Leshy was whirling in a circle, fighting the roots as they grabbed at it, pulling at its limbs, trying to tear it down.

  Robert was amazed. He had stopped trying to get away and was watching, enchanted by this battle between the trees and the monster. As if sensing Robert’s distraction, the trees grabbed at his legs with their roots and started to pull him away from the fray and around to the correct side of the rock to get him down the mountain and out of the forest to safety. The Leshy, refusing to be denied his prey, furiously battled the tree roots, mangling and severing every root in its path as it made its way toward Robert.

  A whisper ran through the forest. The trees understood what needed to be done. They couldn’t just stop the Leshy because the Leshy was relentless and would certainly exact a terrible vengeance on the trees for their betrayal. It was going to need to be an Or Worse solution if they were going to save the human.

  All the branches from above the Leshy joined the fight. They were swinging at it, scratching and cutting it in a thousand places. The Leshy fought even harder, but now needing to defend itself from the roots and the branches, it was overwhelmed. Even with all its power, it was no match for the power of all the trees united as one against it. The branches grabbed the Leshy by the neck, arms, and legs, and they dragged the Leshy to the edge of the cliff at the side of the rock, holding it just over the precipice.

  “Hahahahaha” the Leshy laughed. “So ye think a fall can kill me? Nothing can kill me in this forest, for its magic is me and I am it. Set me free to catch my escaping prey, ye craven thicket, and I will spare ye a most terrible reprisal. Drop me and let yon interloper escape, and I will destroy everything that lives in this forest and poison the land so nothing shall ever grow upon it for time everlasting.” The Leshy finished speaking, and the only sound in all the forest was Robert’s snowboard cutting through the snow; by now he had almost reached the bottom of the mountain.

  The trees held the Leshy firm and the moment Robert left the forest they released the Leshy. The Leshy screamed its wrath and cursed the trees as it fell. Simultaneously as the trees released the Leshy they gathered all their strength, harnessing all their power into one mighty push and they sent the giant rock over the side of the cliff after the Leshy.

  Robert burst out of the forest, riding faster than he ever had in his life. All the tree branches were pushing him down the hill and making sure he didn’t fall. As soon as he was out of the forest he saw Scott and Whitfield standing and waiting for him in a clearing just outside the tree line. “RUN! GET OUT OF THERE NOW!” Robert yelled as loud as he could as he raced toward them, doing his best to save his friends like they had done for him when they left the message at the rock. Scott and Whitfield heard Robert yelling at them to move, so they did—and fast. The second they moved, the Leshy hit the ground and tried to scramble out of the way of the massive rock hurtling toward it, but it was too slow and was crushed under the weight of the bo
ulder, driven deep under the earth where the tree roots snaked all over and around it, grabbing and holding the Leshy in a perpetual chokehold.

  The Leshy was not dead but trapped for eternity.

  Or Worse.

  The three friends stood there in disbelief of what they just witnessed. Robert did his best to explain to his friends everything he had seen and experienced: the Leshy, the trees attacking the Leshy, and also helping him escape. He explained that the BEWARE THE LE sign actually meant BEWARE THE LESHY and that they should’ve paid more attention and been more careful when riding off-piste. Scott and Whitfield were amazed. They saw the monster hit the ground and get crushed by the rock. After seeing that, they could see that believing that trees were sentient beings with thoughts and feelings wasn’t very far-fetched. The three friends turned and faced the forest and thanked the trees for their help and for risking their own lives to help someone else. “You trees rule, and I am proud to have met you,” said Robert solemnly, and all three friends bowed their heads in respect for the forest.

  “Last one to the lodge buys dinner,” cried Whitfield as the three friends started to ride down the rest of the mountain back to the ski lodge where they’d sit in front of a roaring fire and talk about the craziest day any of them had ever had.

  And in the forest the trees whispered happily.

  THE MOST BORING TOUR STORY

  by Scott Ian, February 21, 2017

  OBERHAUSEN, GERMANY—Anthrax rhythm guitarist Scott Ian got a most unwelcome surprise today when the underwear he put into the band’s laundry bag after the previous night’s show in Antwerp, Belgium, did not come back from the wash-and-fold they used in Oberhausen, Germany, that afternoon. Mr. Ian, upon finding that his stage underwear was missing, immediately questioned William Jarvis, the band’s tour manager assistant and the person in charge of getting the laundry done: “Where is my underwear, Will?” Mr. Jarvis replied, “Are you sure you put them in the bag? Maybe you wore them back to the hotel after the show last night?” Mr. Ian, taken aback by such a nefarious claim, that he would wear his wet stage-worn underwear after the show, replied, “No, I didn’t wear my gross, wet, gig-butt underwear back to the hotel. I threw them in the laundry bag.” Mr. Jarvis promised he’d “get on it.”